Artist of the Month: Tanya Tucker

Tanya Tucker is just as surprised as you are that she’s made a brand new record, While I’m Livin’. In an upcoming two-part interview with the enduring country artist, she talks about working with her producers — and new best friends — Shooter Jennings and Brandi Carlile, her friendship with icons like Tom T. Hall and Loretta Lynn, and the shock at seeing the overwhelmingly positive response so far to the new music.

From signing to a major label as a teenager, to rebounding with an award-winning career in her 30s, Tucker placed milestone singles at country radio throughout the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, and she’s earned her reputation as one of the most important female country artists of her generation. Enjoy some of her most significant musical achievements in our Essentials playlist.


Photo credit: Danny Clinch

WATCH: Tanya Tucker, “Hard Luck” (Feat. Brandi Carlile & Shooter Jennings)

It’s your lucky day, as “Hard Luck” is here — Tanya Tucker’s brand new video featuring Brandi Carlile and Shooter Jennings, who produced her upcoming album, While I’m Livin’. A 1978 cut from the band Josefus, “Hard Luck” was chosen for the new album by Jennings and personalized lyrically by Tucker. “This tune is really fun,” says Carlile. “If you know Tanya Tucker you know this is her song.” Try your luck and take a look.


Video directed by Chris Phelps

Jam in the Trees 2018 in Photographs

Black Mountain, North Carolina-based Pisgah Brewing hosted their third Jam in the Trees over the weekend of August 24 and 25, bringing together a harlequin lineup of Americana, alt-country, string bands, and bluegrass in the idyllic Blue Ridge Mountains. Whether you were on hand for every second of the musical magic or you couldn’t quite make it to the festival this year, relive the two day roots celebration with our photo recap.


Photos by Revival Photography: Jason and Heather Barr

Brandi Carlile: The Work, in Progress

“A lot of times, as artists, we don’t write about what we’re good at; we write about what we struggle with,” Brandi Carlile confesses, then adds with a laugh, “I think I tend to write a lot about forgiveness because I’m quite judgmental. I’m a work in progress.” As evidenced in that thesis statement and the work’s title, forgiveness — for ourselves and others — is the tie that binds her new musical masterpiece, By the Way, I Forgive You.

Co-produced by Dave Cobb and Shooter Jennings, and filled with ’60s and ’70s folk-rock flourishes, By the Way, I Forgive You is the album many of Carlile’s fans and critics — as well as Carlile, herself — have been waiting for her to make, as it captures both the expansive power and vulnerable intimacy that make her live shows so indelible and affecting. From the glory and gravitas of “The Joke” to the heart-warming humility of “The Mother,” Carlile — along with Phil and Tim Hanseroth — turned her gaze simultaneously inward and outward, weaving the political into the personal to achieve a new level of honesty in the songwriting and performances.

Carlile and the twins know very well the potency of the musical pen, alluding to exactly that on the album’s buoyantly sentimental opener, “Every Time I Hear That Song.” Aptly, the tune circles around the idea of having memories triggered by a song on the radio. Now 15 years in, Carlile and company have crafted quite a few trigger songs of their own. “I love when I hear that because I know exactly how that feels,” she says. “There are so many activities that, when I do them, I’ll make a playlist and only listen to, like, the Indigo Girls on that camping trip because it’s nostalgia and it’s so important. Certain times in your life are marked by a soundtrack. To be that for somebody else is insanely satisfying for me.

“But ‘Every Time I Hear That Song’ is a little bit different. It’s not really about a song, is it? That’s the least important thing, the song that conjures up those feelings. It’s the fact that they’re still in there somewhere that’s so irritating,” she laughs. This particular album, though, really is about the unique power of a song — or, rather, 10 of them — to conjure up feelings, each one building and bridging toward the next.

A noted activist and humanitarian in her personal life, the closest Carlile had come to drafting a political statement before By the Way was with “Mainstream Kid” (off 2015’s The Firewatcher’s Daughter) because she didn’t feel that she had the skill required to do it well. Then came November 8, 2016 and all that has followed. And, now, not all bets are off, but a lot of them sure are, with “Hold Out Your Hand” and “The Joke” serving as two particularly political rallying cries.

“I think we all woke up, rather disturbingly, in November of 2016, just to realize that certain epidemics still exist, and we live alongside really damaging forces in the world, especially in our own country,” she says. “Becoming a parent has been a part of it, and wanting to do as much as I can to make the world a better place for my kids, while also recognizing that what got me to where I am and gave me a platform in the first place isn’t being political. And trying to honor that — that people want to listen to my music and have real feelings about interpersonal relationships and love and parenthood and loss, as well. So striking that delicate balance and just honoring the times we live in were really important motivators for me, on this record.”

The humanity required to see and strike that balance is, perhaps, Carlile’s greatest gift. It’s in the way she connects with people en masse and in private. It’s in the way she pours everything in her into every note. It’s in the way she exudes sheer joy every time she steps on stage. And it’s in the way she tackles topics almost too tender to touch.

Tales of addiction, abandonment, depression, and suicide have often cropped up on Brandi Carlile records, and By the Way is no exception. Here, “Fulton County Jane Doe” sweetly memorializes an unknown woman found dead in Georgia and “Sugartooth” sympathetically recounts a high school friend’s lost battle with drug abuse, while “Party of One” compassionately resolves to live up to personal promises made to a partner.

Carlile can tell these stories because she has lived these stories. “There’s nothing unique, really, about me,” she offers. “I’ve got all that in my family and all that in my life, too. I’m coping with it right alongside you and everybody else in the world. I think that God gave me the privilege and gift and ability to write about it, and I’m just really happy to be able to do that.”

Because of all she has dealt with in her life, one of the tools Carlile employs in a lot of different situations is the Al-Anon philosophy of love and acceptance: “I find it to be a really versatile philosophy to love someone just because they are worthy of being loved and not because they are meeting your expectations. That is easier said than done, but so important to experience growth.”

Confusing co-dependency with commitment is another addiction-related thread that has run through multiple albums. In keeping with the spirit of forgiveness and signaling a spurt of growth, Carlile takes that on in “Whatever You Do,” albeit with a newfound confidence that comes from counting yourself in the equation rather than succumbing to invisibility. “It’s all there — all of that gravity around having a savior complex and realizing how, subconsciously, we decide at a young age to love each other within the boundaries of what sustains us personally,” she says. “Realizing how necessary it is to let go of that is sort of groundbreaking.”

Across the final 45 seconds of the song, Carlile wails into the wind. What did that symbolize for her? “That it’s not easy,” she says with a laugh.

But Carlile didn’t sign up for easy. She signed up for real … in all its unfathomably beautiful and inestimably horrible glory.

“The kind of white-washing of humanity and saying that everyone’s just doing the best they can and trying to exist at any given time means that we’re not really capable of great things, either,” she explains. “Because, if we’re not really capable of awful things, we’re not capable of great things. It’s the high-highs and the low-lows that are real life. That’s why forgiveness is so necessary — and accountability is so necessary — in our little speck-of-dust lives. That’s what makes the really good shit happen.”

That philosophy of living up to our highest potential against every possible odd is what pulses so profoundly through “The Joke,” the album’s centerpiece. The stunning cut serves as an anthem of empowerment for the marginalized and vulnerable who face bullies and barricades in life. Forgiveness is found there, too. In order to rise above those who would hold us down, it has to be.

“That’s the thing about transgression and grief and fallibility: There’s going to come a time when you and I and all of us are going to be in dire need of forgiveness for some things we can’t believe that we did. And hoping that it’s there is a real shot in the dark because it’s an easy thing to talk about and a hard thing to do,” Carlile says. “At the end of the day, though, if we do it, we have longer lives and we’re happier people.”


Illustration by Zachary Johnson

The Producers: Dave Cobb

Dave Cobb is the man with the Midas touch. Since the Savannah-born guitarist/producer started working his magic in the studio more than 10 years ago, he’s produced some of the very best Americana records of the decade, including Sturgill Simpson’s High Top Mountain and Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, Chris Stapleton’s Traveller, and both of the brilliant solo recordings from America’s best songwriter, Jason Isbell. Cobb took time out from a session at his home studio in Nashville to speak with the BGS for the first in our series of interviews with producers about making records.

Dave Cobb: What’s happening?

Michael Verity: Not much. I have you down on my calendar for a chat.

Yeah, I remember, man. I’m a big fan of the Bluegrass Situation. You guys do some awesome shit.

Aw, thank you, man. We feel the same way about you!

You guys are one of the only real publications out there. It’s awesome, man.

Thank you! That’s always nice to hear. So, ever since I was a pup and I looked at the back of my first record album, which which was Bridge Over Troubled Water 

… oh, wow.

… and saw "Produced by Roy Halee" …

… one of my heroes …

… I’ve been fascinated by record producers. And then I read that Bridge Over Troubled Water was a template of sorts for Jason Isbell’s Southeastern.

Absolutely. I’m a huge fan of Roy. He’s kind of it for me. And yeah, about Southeastern: We met about two weeks before we recorded and it was hilarious because all I did was talk to him for a second then go, "Let me play you a record." And I played “The Only Living Boy in New York.”

That’s one of my favorite songs of all time. I think it’s one of the most brilliant productions ever. I pointed out that when you think of Simon and Garfunkel, you think of acoustic guitar. You never think of a band or of production. But, if you listen to that record, it’s so badass. They’re singing in cathedrals, there are loops going on. The kitchen sink’s on that record — harpsichords and bells — but it still feels like an acoustic record. And that was the template for Southeastern … to make a record that feels acoustic but not be purely acoustic. It’s awesome that you pointed that record out because it was absolutely the template. [Laughs] Even though Southeastern sounds nothing like it.

Sonically, Bridge Over Troubled Water really summarized much of what was created by the Byrds, the Beatles, and the Beach Boys, and then took it to the next logical step. And opened the door for the kind of productions Gus Dudgeon did with Elton John, for example.

Absolutely. I love those records, too. Tumbleweed Connection is one of my favorite records of all time, as well. You’re absolutely right. Man, you know your stuff.

In my opinion, “Cover Me Up” is one of the best Americana songs to have been recorded in the last 20 years.

Oh, wow.

If I were to put it under a microscope, how many of your fingerprints would I find on that song, do you think?

I had read about the recording of “Mrs. Robinson.” They said the guys recorded that song minus the band and then, after they got the track, they added the band — the Wrecking Crew guys — and that’s why the song feels so good … and moves. So I thought, "I don’t want to influence Jason at all. I don’t want anybody influencing his timing. I don’t want anybody influencing his ebbs and flows, his getting loud and getting quiet."

We were recording at this little tiny studio in the back of my house and it’s a little bit small, a little bit confined. We wanted him to be able to stretch out. So we ran lines into the house and put him in the kitchen, where’s he’s looking out over Nashville. There's nobody else around; he’s in the house completely alone and we’re down in the studio, listening.

So we had him record the song — as well as two or three other songs on that record — completely by himself, acoustic. After we got the track, we added the slide and the Mellotron and the bridge, things like that. 

It’s very simple and it’s supposed to be simple. I think, normally, when people try to record that kind of thing, they get everybody together, and they have a click track. They’re trying to get a really great take and then comp it to go. “Cover Me Up” is a pure performance, a one-take track with just a little bit of sweetening, which was my contribution.

With a Mellotron. Which was an Elton John instrument, right?

I think a lot of people used it. The Beatles used it. The Bee Gees. Back in the day, if you couldn’t afford strings, you got a Mellotron. I think it’s a wonderful instrument and a great way to create some atmosphere. We keep coming back to the same record, but on Bridge Over Troubled Water, there are strings and all kinds of stuff — like the Mellotron. It's an affordable way to get ahold of a glockenspiel or a marimba or whatever crazy instruments you can think of.

The funny thing about “Mrs. Robinson,” as you tell the story about adding the band afterward, is that Paul Simon supposedly didn’t even know they did that. He had gone off to Europe and, when he landed back in New York, he heard it on the radio and was like, "What the hell?"

He probably smiled all the way to the bank on that one.

Not to overstate the whole Bridge Over Troubled Water thing, but on the new Jason record, you can kind of draw some dotted lines between the two albums … the reverb on the drums on “Children of Children,” for example.

Oh, for sure. It’s old chambers — like the echo chamber at Sound Emporium, the studio that Cowboy Jack Clement built back in the '60s. It’s a really beautiful sound; you really can’t fake that. On “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” they were using an elevator shaft.

I know, right? Isn’t that cool? I was looking at the video about the making of [Isbell’s] “24 Frames.” Was your input as we saw it in that video indicative of how you work with musicians?

Yeah. When I go into the studio, I’m kind of the "fifth member." I like to be in the room with the artist and have an instrument on, whether I play on the record or not. It’s a tool to speak the language, to suggest melodic ideas, and push and influence the tempo and the like.

There’s a guy, Jimmy Miller, one of my favorite producers ever, who produced the best Stones stuff — from Let It Bleed to Exile [On Main Street]. The Stones really found their swagger with him. He’d get out there and play percussion or drums or whatever it took to get the groove. I think I kind of do that, as well, whether I have an acoustic guitar on or play percussion or whatever. I try to guide like that, without using clicks.

And with Jason, he’s really open and always very cool. He always has the songs; the songs are done because he’s an unbelievable writer. But with the little themes, the beginnings and ends and bridges, he’s always welcoming to ideas. We always have fun.

“The Life You Chose” and “Hudson Commodore” are my favorites on that album. The things I love about “The Life You Chose” are the idea of being “lucky” by losing three fingers — what delicious irony. And, right as he sings that line, there’s a cello that sneaks into the mix. It just floored me. I thought, “Dude, that is IT.”

Thanks, man. He always let’s me mess around and I love orchestrating. That’s the Mellotron again. That’s not even a real cello. The Mellotron lets me conduct a symphony in my own little studio.

Lindi Ortega did something cool — she recorded a little in Muscle Shoals, did a few tunes with another one of my favorite producers of all time, Colin Linden, and then tracked three of cuts with you. And it’s easy to tell which ones are yours. Just rock 'n' roll, baby. Did you have fun with that?

I love Lindi. I did her previous record, and I think she is such an amazing talent. Every time we work together, those vocals are live. Her songs are pure performance and we were just trying to capture lightning in a bottle. She’s so exuberant and alive and fun to work with … dancing while she sings, jumping around. I think you feel that on tape.

My other favorite you’ve done is Chris Stapleton’s Traveller which is a whole lot different than Lindi and Jason. To me, it has a much more glossy, rock 'n' roll sound. Should I trust my ears on that one?

Yeah. The guy who who engineered and mixed it was Vance Powell, a tremendous talent who did all the Third Man stuff, like Jack White’s records. We wanted a real simple, pure thing; that was driven by Chris. I love strings and stuff like that, but Chris was like, “Nah, no keyboards.” I think there’s like one hit of piano somewhere on the record.

But the way we did it was a really good idea. That guy's such an insane singer so we didn't want to let anything get in the way of the vocal. And he’s a phenomenal acoustic guitar player so we tracked it with him, a bass guitar, and drums, me on acoustic guitar, and his wife on harmonies. That’s pretty much what you hear, other than a few solo overdubs.

We had the privilege on working in RCA Studio A for much of that record and we had a blast. We’d show up at noon and goof around and talk and maybe order some food, talk over some drinks. We didn’t track until maybe 8 o’clock at night but, when we did, we’d get two or three masters. That’s what you hear on the record. It was such a fun session and a real lesson in recording when you’re inspired — not recording because you have a deadline. The label was great. They really let us stretch out. They were really supportive about it all, about having everybody in a good mood.

We talked a little about Jimmy Miller. Now let’s talk about Glyn Johns.

Glyn is my favorite engineer of all time. One of my favorite producers. His records were so hi-fi and beautiful. I think he made a great record with Ryan Adams with Ashes and Fire. I hear that record it makes me want to give up. I think I’m kind of a fake engineer. I work on the records, but I’m more of a songwriter kind of producer. His albums sound like music to me: guitar amps sound like guitar amps, singers sound like they're singing to you. I’m heavily influenced by him, especially by his rock 'n' roll records.

A good place to ask this question: Do you play with Europe? As in “The Final Countdown” Europe?

No, I don’t play with them. I produced their last album. I don’t play in the band Europe, no. [Laughs]

I was a little confused by that one.

Every once in awhile, I’ll jump on stage and play with them. When I was a kid, I used to play along with that stuff. Everybody did in the '80s.

The way that happened was, I produced this band called Rival Sons — they’re more of a traditional rock band. They do really well overseas, and the guys from Europe heard the record and called me about a year-and-a-half ago, asking me about working together. They called me thinking I’d be too cool to work with them, but I was really excited about it. I went over to Stockholm and we made a record that was awesome. It sounds like Black Sabbath or something. It was a lot of fun. We’re going to make another record again. They’re really good guys.

Has production always been in the back of your mind, even while you were in your own band … well before you did your first record with Shooter Jennings 10 years ago and started making a name for yourself?

I always wanted to be in a band and get a record deal and do it as a career. And my band did get signed and did a lot of heavy touring. But we signed a bad deal and got stuck, and if I recorded anything new with the band, it would go directly to the label that we hated. So that’s when I started taking production seriously. I’d met my wife by this time and I was ready to stop touring. I enjoyed playing shows and enjoyed recording records but I hated the road.

And I think when I was in bands, I used to drive everybody crazy trying to tell them what to play. Maybe I was douchier back then and production was a logical thing to do — start being a producer so people would actually start listening to you.

You've found your natural space.

Being a producer is like getting to be in a different band all the time. It’s a lot of fun. When you first join a band, it’s the most romantic thing. Then, after two or three years, you start hating each other. Being a producer, I get the first date kind of feeling all the time.

Stetson and Mitra Khayyam Create Custom Waylon Jennings Hat

Waylon Jennings devotees know that the outlaw country pioneer was a bit of a devotee himself … to Stetson hats. Now, fans can get their own recreation of the Stetson hat Jennings wore on the cover of his 1979 Greatest Hits collection.

Stetson teamed up with the Waylon Jennings Estate, clothing company Midnight Rider, and Midnight Rider's Creative Director Mitra Khayyam to create "The Lash," a custom Stetson that incorporates all of the details from that original Jennings hat. 

"The Lash" is made of 6x fur felt, a slightly upturned brim, a braided outer band, and a roan leather inner sweat band embossed with Jennings' signature and "My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys." The collaboration, which has been in the works since 2012, was recently released for purchase to the public.

"Working with Stetson has been a real treat," Khayyam says. "I had the opportunity to design the hat from the ground up with their team. They were true to every detail — from the sweatband with 'My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys' stamped on it with foil to matching the leather braided hat band to Waylon's original. Stetson's team knew that Waylon's fans would want a hat they could both wear and keep as a collector's piece, and worked with me to ensure that customers were getting quality and authenticity in their product."

Khayyam, whose Midnight Rider manages all merchandise licensing for Jennings, initially connected with Jennings' team via Twitter. "I was the founder and curator of the artist-based clothing line Blood Is the New Black (since sold) and Shooter Jennings, Waylon's son, was a fan of the line," she explains. "We became 'Twitter friends' and, after a few months, he sent me a message asking if I'd be interested in being Waylon's merchandising manager."

Khayyam keeps pretty busy these days, as Midnight Rider's licensing collection continues to grow. "We currently hold licenses for Jennings, Bob Dylan, the Band, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Townes Van Zandt, Nudie's Rodeo Tailors, John Wayne, the MC5, Roach Studios, Billy Joe Shaver, Janis Joplin, and Woodstock. I launched Midnight Rider in 2012 with Waylon Jennings as our first licensed artist, and have added about a dozen artists to the mix. I'm a huge collector of vintage t-shirts, specifically country music ones. I was finding that it was harder and harder to nab them after a while, so I decided to make my own."

As for future outlaw-inspired projects? Khayyam has her ideas. "I would love to do more collaborations going forward," she says. "We have nothing on the books right now, but I think home fragrance is high on my list. I mean, can you imagine a Waylon Jennings- or Billy Joe Shaver-scented candle?"

Buy your own Waylon x Stetson hat here


Photos courtesy of Mitra Khayyam and Stetson