What Is a Cowboy Ballad?

Sam Shackleton is a good example of the successful contemporary songwriter – a Scottish traditional folk singer with some formal education in musicology. He posts excellent, moody clips online; he goes viral enough to open for bands and artists like the Mary Wallopers or Willi Carlisle; and he releases music on Bandcamp. Though he could easily slide into a minor but culturally significant record label, he released his new album Scottish Cowboy Ballads and Early American Folk Songs independently; when a writer emails him, the answers come back on a plain Hotmail account, his avatar a famous 19th century painting of Robbie Burns.

There is something telling in this amalgamation: the 200 years of cowboy songs, the move between America and Scotland, the slightly old-fashioned email address. Even Shackelton’s very contemporary distribution methods envelop other kinds of tradition, the busker as troubadour or a work song floating across oceans. For example, when he sings “The Butcher Boy,” his framing includes that Mary Wallopers’ cover from a couple of years ago, the Sinead O’Connor version before that, and the Tommy Makem version before that. And he also echoes those who sang before them. “The Butcher Boy” is not even a cowboy song, though. When he offers songs like “Chisholm Trail” or “I Ride an Auld Paint,” something shifts in how he sings them.

The cowboy song is muddled – it is the expression of poor, often Black, Hispanic, or Indigenous agricultural workers, telling explicit stories about their lives – but like a shanty, it is also a song that aids labor, in passing the time and moving the livestock along. These dual instincts of work and entertainment gathered into an oral tradition, which was translated into grand public spectacles. These spectacles were later depicted on radio, film, and television, abstracted and cleaned up. When a singer chooses to return to these songs, their versions are always paratextual – they are making choices of interpretation. When Shackleton sings the verses in “Chisholm Trail” about punching bosses or selling cowboy gear, he is foregrounding a kind of economic subtext, which might be less fun and seems more serious.

It reminds me a bit of growing up in Alberta (maybe because on “Roving Cowboy” Shackleton sings about crossing the Rockies and the “cold and distant plains”), or my relations in Calgary, that city mostly named after Scottish figures, romantic still for a set of cultures that doesn’t exist. How much easier it is to consider the romance of the West without considering the isolation of it all. Men would be sent from places like Scotland to the prairies as part of a great colonial project; the rascal sons of minor aristocracy, rampaging across the land. That roving grew into myths of grand cowboy narratives. The big rodeo turned into a banal bacchanal. When Shackleton sings in “Roving Cowboy” about leaving “his good old father” or “his friends and home there,” he refuses the grandeur and returns to the profound isolation. A kind of homecoming in place and in time that may never occur.

Talking to Shackleton via email for Good Country, I learned that an album I first thought was a small jape was really a sophisticated conversation with these traditions, lands, and desires.

I am curious about why cowboy ballads and also how you define a cowboy ballad – some of the songs seem very clearly part of that tradition, but some to be an extension of it. Is “Butcher Boy” a cowboy ballad?

Sam Shackelton: I’ve always been a fan of cowboy music since spending many hours watching old Westerns, when I’d go through and spend the weekends with my dad as a kid in a wee Scottish town called Bridge of Alan. For me, the best part about them was the music, singing, whistling, and yodeling. Even to this day I think it’s pretty hard to find anything cooler than Dean Martin singing “My Rifle, My Pony and Me” in Rio Bravo.

Much of my early musical influences were inspired by my father. I remember vividly the first time he showed me the excellent Woodstock: 3 Days of Peace & Music documentary of the 1969 festival, which first led me down the path of learning to play and wanting to be a musician – though at the time I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough to step on a stage. In regard to the album title, I originally was going to just call the album Scottish Cowboy Ballads, but decided to throw in the “Early American Folk Songs” to allow me to add a broader range of songs to the album such as “The Butcher Boy” or “O Death.”

Could you talk a little bit about the loops of influence which exist in folk music circles. The Scottish ballads which end up in Appalachia, from the 18th century onward, but also the dual folk revivals in the 1950s and 1960s? Where do you see your place in the ebb and flow of these revivals or these conversations?

Mainly through my own research and watching many hours of old music videos and documentaries on YouTube as a teenager, I discovered the American and Scottish folk revivals of the 1950s and ‘60s and knew I’d finally found my musical home, so to speak. I strongly believe that what you put in is what you get out, as a musician, when it comes to inspiration, so I deeply immersed myself in this music for many years. Still to this day only really listen to music from this period or those who can capture a similar sound today. I was deeply inspired by Woody Guthrie and also by his close friend, Cisco Houston, especially his album, Cowboy Ballads, which was a big influence on my latest album and much of my earlier music too.

I’ve always been drawn to less commercially popular musicians, such as Walt Robertson or Alex Campbell, those with incredible talent but whose work went generally under the radar in favor of bigger, more commercialised folk artists. People often talk of Guthrie when referring to the folk revival, but even his songs were greatly aided by Cisco’s harmonies and Sonny Terry’s whooping harmonica, another huge inspiration of mine.

I also had the great privilege of studying at the School of Scottish Studies at the University of Edinburgh for 5 years, where I got both my undergraduate and master’s degrees. The School of Scottish Studies was founded during the Scottish folk revival in the 1950s and was based on a vast collection of field recordings collected primarily by Calum MacLean – brother of the legendary Gaelic poet Sorley MacLean – and renowned ethnomusicologist and poet Hamish Henderson. [Henderson] made many of his early Scottish recordings with Alan Lomax during his time in Scotland in the ‘50s.

I focused primarily on Scottish/Celtic studies, Scots-American emigration and musical traditions, and ethnomusicology, with a specific focus on the work of Alan Lomax – and what I identified as the new “digital folk revival,” which is happening right now on social media. In my masters thesis, I argued that modern online digital communications technologies (such as social media platforms like YouTube) are facilitating multiple new folk revivals. Lomax prophetically identified this in his 1972 paper “Appeal for Cultural Equity,” where he identified both the risk of mass communication technologies to traditional folk cultures, but also their extraordinary ability to preserve and facilitate folk revivals by allowing everyone to share and participate in folk traditions on a vastly more even playing field. All you need now is a mobile phone and you can participate in the digital folk revival, sharing and listening to songs from every corner of the world.

In relation to your original question, it is indeed true that many of the songs that were sung during the folk revival in North America at that time (and throughout American history) also had a very close and deep connection to the mass emigration of people from Scotland, Ireland, England, and Wales during the 18th and 19th centuries and beyond. This is evident in songs such as “Pretty Saro,” which is also on the album. This was a song sung commonly in England but was lost to time, only to be rediscovered being sung in the mountains of Appalachia by early song collectors. And, as such, the song became popular again across the Atlantic. This is a perfect example of how these early folk revivals facilitated this full circle of cross-cultural transfer.

How was this album affected by the large-scale American touring you have done in the last few years?

My time spent touring in the USA and Canada was certainly a big influence on this album. I traveled all over the states, starting in Nashville, where I then traveled through Kentucky and Tennessee with my good friend and director of the YouTube channel GemsOnVHS, Anthony Simpkins – his channel being another great example of the digital folk revival in action. We recorded a bunch of amazing music in the hollers and I met many amazing musicians during my time there, such as Benjamin Tod and Ashley Mae from Lost Dog Street Band.

[They] kindly invited us to spend the night at their house in rural Kentucky along with Jason O’Dea to shoot some guns (my first time doing so in the USA) and play some songs around the campfire. I remember playing Benjamin Tod an old Scottish ballad called “Tramps and Hawkers” on the banjo by the fire, to which he then responded that he was also aware of versions of the same song that had been sung in the American folk tradition. Again, highlighting this close cross-cultural connection between the Scottish and American musical folk traditions. I then toured all across the East and West Coasts of the USA and Canada with my good pals, legendary Irish folk band the Mary Wallopers, before selling out a couple shows of my own on the East Coast.

I noticed that the album’s songs are mostly very short – some under two minutes. Can you talk a little bit about that? Is that related to busking? How else does busking appear in these kinds of recordings? How does busking online relate to busking in person?

Since this is the first ever album I will be releasing on 12” vinyl LPs, I decided to try and fit as many songs on it as possible. Obviously, due to the physical limitations of the vinyl medium, I had to make sure my album was within a certain length of time, hence why some of the songs may seem shorter. Although there are a good few short songs on there, you will indeed find a few longer ones such as “Old Rosin the Bow” or “The Blackest Crow.”

I know that the Mary Wallopers sing “Butcher Boy,” and it is often a touchstone for Irish singers (the Mary Wallopers, Lankum, Lisa O’Neil, Sinead O’Connor, the Clancy Brothers), but also the Irish diaspora. In fact, in a live recording from the Clancys, Tommy Makem calls it, “Well known in America.” What is your relationship to both the song and the people listening to it? How do you make songs thought commonly to be American or Irish to be Scottish?

“The Butcher Boy” is a class wee ballad and you are right in noting that it is indeed popular amongst Irish artists such as The Clancy Brothers, their version being my favorite. However, the history of this ballad and its origins are far more complex, as this ballad is actually derived from multiple old English broadside ballads such as “Sheffield Park,” “The Brisk Young Sailor,” and “The Squire’s Daughter,” to name but a few. Many versions of this song have been collected across England, Ireland, Scotland, and North America. It is perhaps one of the best examples of a cross-cultural folk ballad I can think of.

I had actually stopped singing this song for a long time after what happened with my dad, as the later verses were far too similar to what I had experienced with my father’s suicide. But, despite how hard it was for me to sing again, I felt it absolutely needed to be included on this album. If anything comes from people hearing that song in particular, I hope that they show some love to the people in their lives who may be struggling. It’s not easy being a human on this cruel old rock hurtling through space, so we all need all the love and support we can get.

I noticed that you dedicated this album to your father – what was your relationship to him?

Yes, I dedicated this album to my father, as it’s my first major release since he tragically took his own life in the summer of 2023. We also used to sing many of these songs from the album together when I was younger. As I mentioned at the start, my father has always been a huge influence on my music and I can say for certain that I wouldn’t be a musician today if it weren’t for him. From buying me my first guitar to constantly taking me on stage to perform with him as a child.

My mother and father actually used to be in a band together before I was born called Big Shacks. My mother, Kim, was the singer and my father, Norman, was the lead guitarist. I have many fond memories of busking with my dad on the streets of Edinburgh and Glasgow as a child, too. It was something that brought us very close together over the years. When he died, it really took a huge toll on me. I was actually down in England opening for Willi Carlisle when it happened and I was also in the process of getting my American O-1 visa at the time. I decided to still go ahead with the first American tour a few months later, regardless. However, afterwards I was in a really bad place mentally, so I decided to take a long break from performing until I finally felt ready to return. In that time, I recorded this album and as such I have dedicated it to his memory. I’ve now also returned to touring in the last few months and will be announcing a really big tour of my own in the very near future!

What makes a Scottish Cowboy different than other cowboys?

Scotland has a very long history of cattle droving, going back many hundreds if not thousands of years. There is indeed much to be said on the topic of Scottish cowboys and their influence on the conceptualization of the American cowboy and the Wild West. A good place to start, if you want to research this fascinating topic further, is the fantastic book by Rob Gibson called Highland Cowboys: From the Hills of Scotland to the American Wild West. In it, he details the links between the two cultures, as not only did the thousands of emigrants from the Scottish Highlands and Lowlands bring with them their musical culture and songs to the New World, they also brought with them their unique way of life and cattle-herding culture and practices. Not to mention the practice of cattle rustling, which although not unique to Scotland was a very common yet serious crime throughout Scottish history.

To further emphasise this connection, I included the song “Chisholm Trail,” as this song is sung about the historic cattle trail that runs from Texas to Kansas, which is named after the famous half-Scottish, half-Cherokee cowboy, Jesse Chisholm.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

BGS 5+5: Cat Terrones

Artist: Cat Terrones
Hometown: San Pedro, California
Latest Album: Shelter in Our Beauty

Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Cat is the nickname my best friend as a kid gave me in junior high. It got lost in the shuffle for a while in college. I went back to Cathy, or Catherine, and for a time Ginger when I sang in blues bands. But I readopted it eventually. I thought, let’s make this simple. But also it’s just more fun and direct, and brings me back to a more essential spirit I like.

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

My whole life I’ve spent a lot of time around the ocean. I think the ocean teaches you to respect depth, power, mystery, and wonder. It naturally encourages curiosity, while also helping you understand there’s always more you can’t know or see. I consider myself a pearl diver — but for songs. And there’s just certain passageways, dangers, challenges you understand you’ll have to deal with, if it’s going to be anything other than an easy surface level experience. Being okay with the unknown, open and curious to see what comes next.

The ocean has somehow also taught me about time, about energy waves, sound, imagination and being able to hold whole worlds in your imagination that you may never see, building worlds, building models. Then there’s the aspect of Mother Ocean; the impermanence, the movement, the immense creative waters of the earth, getting perspective, being able to zoom in and zoom out, that natural power can be intense. The deep presence to individual life being so precious and precarious, rare but also vast. It’s rare I write a song that doesn’t at least have a water reference, whether I leave it in the lyrics or not depends on how I think the song needs to stay connected to water.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

The blues. I don’t consider myself a blues singer but for a while I was trying that on and learning from local blues musicians in Southern California. I love Koko Taylor’s song, “Voodoo Woman.” Sometimes I just need to put that track on and hear her shout and own that song. The horn riff on it is so funky. Also, Memphis Minnie. I found her music and guitar playing fascinating and enigmatic, even as the songs were pretty straightforward lyrically, as per the genre. She was a real original and an originator, and I appreciated that about her.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Sinead O’Connor. I was thirteen when her big song with Prince came out, “Nothing Compares 2 U.” I sat on the floor, cross legged and read the liner notes, discovering that she wrote almost all the other songs. I remember very clearly thinking the words, “I want to do that.” It took until almost graduating high school before I realized I could sing and write my own songs. I wanted to do what she was doing: telling stories, being vulnerable and singing the truth telling. So she’s who I learned that songs are where we can say whatever we need to; painfully true things, fleeting things, big emotions or stunningly small yet profound emotions.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

I have a song on my previous EP called Josephine, and I’d say that song was probably the toughest to navigate writing. On the one hand, the emotion was very palpable, and I think I needed to write that song (I’m sure I did) to process some aspects of grief. But it was a really heavy song for me. It tells my own story and the story of someone in my community we lost. It’s about a family who tried everything but their daughter succumbed to a tragic accidental death that was preventable. At the start, I felt compelled to write a song celebrating the beauty of these women we lost. Instead what came out was a song about the grief, survivor’s guilt, and the sense of connection that goes beyond the physical world. How it feels when tragedy cleaves into our lives and communities and changes the fabric of our experience forever. I can’t say it was comforting writing it. But now it feels somehow grounding and cathartic for me when I sing it.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

In the making of this album, I had many ideal days. Sitting down with a song, being in a natural environment, like near a river or the ocean or lots of trees, playing music, singing, letting a new song come through. Then a good healthful lunch with lots of fresh veggies and tea. Then another session of working on a song before cooking dinner with friends and watching the sunset. And then a song circle with songwriters gathering around a bonfire or running off to catch fireflies.


Photo Credit: Jo Babb

Kris Kristofferson’s Most Human Moments

After passing away on September 28 at the age of 88, Kris Kristofferson has rightly been eulogized as a renaissance man without compare. It makes sense, since the colorful character’s legendary resume includes time as a Rhodes scholar, Golden Gloves boxer, U.S. Army Ranger, Golden Globe-winning actor, janitor at Columbia Studios, and helicopter pilot who once brought Johnny Cash a demo by landing on the superstar’s front lawn.

In fact, it was only after all of these accomplishments that Kristofferson became the icon we remember – a songwriter’s songwriter, and one of the most authentic and impactful artists to hit country and roots music since its development. Yet his longest-lasting gift to all of us may prove to be his humanity.

Emerging onto an American landscape just beginning to feel the pangs of decay – the “Sunday Morning Coming Down” of its post-war glory – Kristofferson’s work found beauty in even the ugliest moments life had to offer. He broke every mold of what a country star “should” be, choosing substance over style, embracing the unwanted, and cutting a trail for generations of artists to follow. Stunning empathy seemed to be his primary tool and as a man of many lives, he was well suited to put himself in the shoes of whatever characters he conjured up.

That deep well of human empathy might be the source of his gravity on camera and on stage. Maybe that’s why his songs came alive for the 450 other artists who covered them. But whatever it was, Kris Kristofferson accessed emotion and compassion without pretension. His humanity will live on now like a beacon, guiding others away from the shallow posturing of country songcraft and toward the authentic depths of the art.

In honor of his life, legacy, and impact, here are eight moments where Kris Kristofferson’s humanity shined bright.

“Help Me Make It Through the Night” on The Old Grey Whistle

After his debut album in 1970, Kristofferson made frequent TV appearances with duet partner and soon-to-be-wife Rita Coolidge – with one capturing his tender side especially well. Singing “Help Me Make It Through the Night” on the UK variety show The Old Grey Whistle in ‘72, Kristofferson and Coolidge were just a few months away from their marriage and seem enchanted with each other. Sharing a microphone and never more than a few inches apart, you can almost feel the sensual spark.

“Help Me Make It Through the Night” on The Muppet Show

Same song, different duet partner – and a totally different view of Kristofferson as an artist. Fast forwarding to 1978 and Season 3 of The Muppet Show, the respected singer-songwriter showed he was good sport by doing “Help Me Make It Through the Night” with none other than Miss Piggy. Clean shaven and re-creating the close proximity of the first clip, Kristofferson could barely hold back the laughs as he serenaded a swooning swine – then lost it completely as Miss Piggy broke into the chorus. Hopefully he and Kermit patched things up later.

“Sunday Morning Coming Down” on The Johnny Cash Christmas Special

Later in 1978, Kristofferson had the chance to perform alongside an idol and show his respect for the artist who had done more to popularize his work than any other. Joining Johnny Cash for the Man in Black’s yearly Christmas special, Kristofferson was left almost speechless as Cash introduced the vivid “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” which they then took turns singing. After Cash noted he’d been making the song his own for years, Kristofferson responds, “Up until now that was the proudest moment of my life. Now this may be the proudest.”

“Me and Bobby McGee” on Austin City Limits

Kristofferson appeared on Austin City Limits a few times, but in 1981 he had a hot band behind him and that led to a rollicking delivery of his biggest rock hit, “Me and Bobby McGee.” Made famous by the late Janis Joplin 10 years before, the freewheeling anthem put Kristofferson’s range – and a sense nostalgic joy – front and center. Although, there’s still a tinge of sadness embedded in the tone. From our perspective now, the iconic line “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” is matched only by “I’d trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday.”

“For the Good Times” with Tanya Tucker

Kristofferson always looked more comfortable in a flannel shirt than a black tie, but in the long run, that only made him more endearing. Joined by Tanya Tucker on a 1982 awards show, Kristofferson climbed into a tux and delivered the one-last-time anthem “For the Good Times” in classic pop style. Backed by an orchestral score and with Tucker taking the lead, it was a rare ballroom-country presentation of a song also recorded by Ray Price, Al Green, and more, which proved the Hollywood heartthrob would truly rather be hanging out with friends at the local dive.

“The Hot Dog Tree” with Pee Wee Herman

By 1988 Kristofferson had built up decades of acclaim as an actor, artist, songwriter – and as an international sex symbol. But he was never too big to have fun. Playing opposite Pee Wee Herman in the kid’s comedy Big Top Pee Wee, Kristofferson slipped into silliness with an easy charm. The iconic scene sees Pee Wee unveiling his top-secret Hot Dog Tree to Kristofferson, and the star’s initial skepticism – and then child-like awe – will brighten any day. Despite being held up as a talent of rare caliber, he never took himself too seriously.

Encouraging Sinéad O’Connor at Madison Square Garden

If you want to know about Kris Kristofferson’s character, look no further than what he did for Sinéad O’Connor at New York’s Madison Square Garden in October 1992. A few nights earlier, O’Connor had shocked the nation by protesting the Catholic Church’s still-under-wraps sex abuse scandal on Saturday Night Live, ripping up a photo of Pope John Paul II as cameras rolled.

When she then took the stage for Bob Dylan’s 30th anniversary concert, the crowd erupted in boos. As O’Connor stood there, unable to begin her performance through the rain of jeers, Kristofferson stepped beside her and spoke the famous words of encouragement, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” He didn’t try to save her or get her off stage, or diminish her in any way – he just let her know she wasn’t alone. For her part, O’Connor went on to scream sing an a-capella rendition of “War” over the crowd, before staring them down as she left the stage. She said the moment created a lifelong appreciation for Kristofferson.

“Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again)” with Rosanne Cash at Willie Nelson’s 90th Birthday

Kris Kristofferson made his final public performance in 2023, appearing at the Hollywood Bowl in honor of his longtime friend Willie Nelson’s 90th birthday. The moment was filmed for a special airing on CBS and gave us one last moment with an icon.

After a shaky walk to the microphone, Kristofferson joined Rosanne Cash for an arm-in-arm rendition of “Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again),” a devastating ballad first released at the start of his career. Following Cash’s lead with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eye – one armed raised in triumph – Kristofferson soaked up the moment, while the rapt attention of the audience evolved into a thunderous applause. As Cash adapted the song’s hook to address Kristofferson himself, the whole world seemed to send him out on a high note:

Loving you was easier than anything I’ll ever do again


Photo Credit: Scott Newton, courtesy of New West Records.

Basic Folk: Ana Egge

Folk singer Ana Egge’s 13th album, Sharing in the Spirit, came out of the musician one song at a time. She didn’t even think about moving onto a new song before the writing and production of each song was complete. Working with her friend and collaborator Lorenzo Wolff, the songwriting process and music arrangement plan was to just work on a handful of songs. Their creative partnership manifested an entire record’s worth of indie folk, acoustic, and new folk music. The record includes eight originals and two covers: one by Biloxi songwriter Ted Hawkins and one by Irish musician Sinead O’Connor.

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Ana gives a huge songwriting credit to her dreams, which started getting more and more intense when she began her sobriety journey four years ago. Since then, she’s recorded her dreams, especially those with music segments and full songs, on her voice memos app. We go through the new album track by track, addressing themes in the songs like not sleeping through the revolution, the importance of telling the truth, feelings on mortality and how we’re gonna feel when Bob Dylan dies. Also: Ana was the VERY first guest on Basic Folk! I can’t go back and listen to myself four years ago, but I encourage you to check it out and then dive into her great new album.


Photo Credit: Lorenzo Wolff

Out Now: Joh Chase

This week, we’re excited to feature Joh Chase in Out Now. Joh is an artist from Seattle, Washington now rooted in Los Angeles, California. They’ve spent the past two decades developing their craft as a songwriter and performer and they’ve opened for artists like Noah Gunderson and David Bazan. Joh’s music steps outside the lines of any single genre and blends influences of blues, folk, pop, and indie rock.

Joh Chase’s brand new album, SOLO, was released today. It features diverse sounds, intimate lyrics, and an exploration of love, loss, self-discovery, and independence. Our conversation touches on why they create music, their greatest fear, and their process of self-funding tours and crowdfunding albums.

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

I create music because I am lucky to have claimed music as something that I do. I just do music as much as humanly possible, because it makes me feel alive and helps me know who I am and how much I love the world and life and others. Both the outcome and the process are satisfying. The payoffs for showing up always feel rewarding, but the long game reward of gaining muscle memory around showing up when it feels like the last thing you wanna do, is its own kind of reward.

Do you create music primarily for yourself or for others?

I’m very “Oliver Sacks” about music. I unabashedly create music for selfish reasons – coping, pleasure, and connection. And then I love playing music for people or hearing the music of others because everyone has a “secret public song space” in their bodies and minds and they want to be there as much as possible.

Your songs cover a wide range of genres with traces of blues, pop, folk, and indie rock influences. How do you navigate genre diversity while maintaining a cohesive sound throughout the album?

I think the genre diversity and how that comes across in the different sounds is a reflection of the kinds of music I used to make and the sounds that have stuck with me throughout the years. Using the baritone saxophone, finding a way to express some soul music as well as some Americana licks amongst folky tunes indie folk/rock sounds are endemic to my musical expression. Over the years people have said, “Oh your voice would sound good singing… country, bluegrass, blues, soul…” and in this record I found a way to fit the genres to my voice, a bit. The surprising Flaming Lips-sounding party that is “Daniel” or the more jammy “Smoother” with its less Western sounding scale, are consequences of me feeling 100% happy with creating and releasing music that genre melds, as opposed to making sure I stay in some sort of shape, genre-wise.

The lead single, “Avalanche,” is both explosive and personal. What is the inspiration and significance of this track?

I honestly cannot remember the exactitude of where or when I wrote “Avalanche.” It was in the same set of songs as “Gone” when I first wrote it, but I can’t remember that session as well as I can remember the writing of “Gone.” The song centers itself around the powerful polarity of belonging and loss. Love is not just the “hot fire sex flame” of pop bangers, but also the unexpected mountain shelf of love that you didn’t know you had until it was gone.

This album, SOLO, reflects your do-it-yourself perspective as an artist. Could you share the challenges and rewards of self-funding tours and crowdfunding projects?

One of my favorite books that I was reading around the time that I decided to do the crowd funding that led to this record is the book Real Artists Don’t Starve. The book inspired me to go back to school while I was making this record. The record business is tough and very uncontrollable, but I will never stop making music. So it’s not a question of “do I want to keep making music”, but rather how and at which costs? I think some artists or bands are in a place where they feel comfortable sharing the financials of their music business with fans and some do not for many valid reasons. I feel comfortable sharing with my fans, I need $x to do this, will you help me make it happen. It’s much more acceptable now to have folks follow your Patreon or Substack or subscriptions than it was, so I feel grateful that there are things like Kickstarter and Patreon etc.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

Eating a Berliner from Black Forest Bakery in Los Feliz with my coffee, going home to the studio and making music or playing out with my band.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

I’m sitting behind some tape machine or TEAC-2A, coming up with my next record and building more beautiful songs. I’m walking my dog and going to queer line dancing and the LA women’s soccer games with my city and then touring and meeting wonderful people and getting to play music for them. Definitely going back to Europe for more shows – I’d really love to do that.

What is your greatest fear?

My dog dying when I’m on tour.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

Get pet insurance.

What is your current state of mind?

I’m so deeply excited about playing these new songs for people this year and for people to hear this record. I couldn’t sleep last night after doing my taxes, ’cause I was so buzzed from the band rehearsal.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

Brittany Ann Tranbaugh. Brennan Wedl. Bitch. Melissa Ferrick. Perfume Genius. Hand Habits. Sasami. Rhett Madson. Rachel Mazer. Ryan Cassatta. Brittany Howard. Sinead O’Connor. Jonnie Reinhart. Hurray for the Riff Raff.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

Willie Nelson’s “He Was A Friend of Mine” – I think struggling to come out of the closet or living in it or the aftermath of coming out revolves around loss of community and friendships. Nelson’s version of this song helps me still deal with some of the sadness around that loss. I was lucky enough to get sober and it was through the 12 step community that I met lovely, strong, vulnerable queers in LA who showed me the beauty and joy of what it’s like to be out and to be sturdy in your own way. I’m also spoiled with LA’s LGBT center – it’s an incredible organization with so many resources and events. Find the queers you want to be when you grow up. And then be the queer you want to be when you grow up.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

I think it means that my music gets to be a safe LGBTQ+ place. That my shows and my music centers the queer experience.

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

After touring this summer to promote the record on the West Coast, I’ll head east later in the year and jump into some Folk Alliance conferences. No release plans on the radar yet after SOLO.

How do you find a balance between the business and artistic aspects involved in your career as a musician?

I honestly don’t totally know. It’s intuitive and chaotic and intentional and has been part of my personality or my way of life for so long, now, that I don’t know if I can pinpoint one precise center of gravity. I have to protect my creative time, nurture my playfulness in life, let myself ditch friends or ditch overworking or ditch over-cleaning to let those creative moments remind me of who I am. I am lucky to have a manager, a team at Kill Rock Stars and friends who support me and my music. Inside of community, the glaring nature of the music industry is dulled out quite a bit.


Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

16 Summer Reads: New Books by Brandi Carlile, Mary Gauthier, and More

My summer essentials list is pretty simple: A ball cap and sunscreen for a hike, driving directions and a trail map for a day trip, and more than a few reading options for the couch that’s inevitably waiting for me at the end of a long hot summer day. Gathering together all the new memoirs and taking some tips from my BGS colleagues, here are 16 top tomes to get us all — even the kids — through this sweltering season of 2021.

Rob Bowman, The Last Soul Company: The Malaco Records Story

Generous in its photography and its scope, this overview of Malaco Records explains how a pioneering independent label founded in 1962 brought a wealth of African American music to the world via artists like Mississippi Fred McDowell, Bobby Blue Bland, Z.Z. Hill, Johnnie Taylor, Little Milton, and James Cleveland.


Brandi Carlile, Broken Horses

This memoir satisfies the longtime fans who will learn what inspired the songs from her early albums, yet it’s also a candid and conversational statement about what it’s like to be a queer woman in roots music today. The cast of characters is charming, too, particularly her exchanges with Elton John and Joni Mitchell.


Brent Cobb, Little Stuff

Country tunesmith Brent Cobb has said he writes every album with his kids in mind, so transforming the song “Little Stuff” into a children’s book came naturally. But how many children’s books get their own music video? Whether you read it or watch it, the Georgia musician’s homespun wisdom shines through.


Robert Owen Gardner, The Portable Community: Place and Displacement in Bluegrass Festival Life

This scholarly look at bluegrass festival culture in the American West comes from sociology professor Robert Owen Gardner. It’s also an examination of how arts and music grapple with social and environmental change. A digital version of the academic textbook allows more room in the backpack for sunscreen and guitar strings.


Mary Gauthier, Saved by a Song: The Art and Healing Power of Songwriting

More of a memoir than an instruction manual, Mary Gauthier tells the stories behind original songs like “Mercy Now” while leaving the mystical and magical aura of writing them intact. By sharing her intimate conversations and co-writing experiences, she offers both a creative and compassionate point of view.


Howard Grimes with Preston Lauterbach, Timekeeper

Known as Bulldog, Memphis drummer Howard Grimes has propelled R&B classics like Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” and Ann Peebles’ “I Can’t Stand the Rain.” In this autobiography, he also explains how he wound up homeless for a time and how he’s been guided by the Bible. Fans of Stax and Hi Records won’t want to miss this one.


Chris Hillman, Time Between: My Life as a Byrd, Burrito Brother, and Beyond

You can’t tell the story of country rock without Chris Hillman. Time Between entered its second printing earlier this year, proving there’s still a curiosity about near-mythical bands like The Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers. Start at page one and turn, turn, turn to the get the whole story from this prolific Rock and Roll Hall of Famer.


Johnnyswim, Home Sweet Road: Finding Love, Making Music & Building a Life One City at a Time.

The ever-endearing Johnnyswim found an even larger following when Chip and Joanna Gaines chose the duo’s anthem “Home” as the theme to Fixer Upper. Now, Amanda Sudano-Ramirez and Abner Ramirez give fans a deep dive into their own family life with Home Sweet Road, their debut book brimming with photos, recipes, stories, and poetry.


Kimberly Mack, Fictional Blues: Narrative Self-Invention from Bessie Smith to Jack White

The story of Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil isn’t the only larger-than-life narrative in blues music. A scholar of African American literature and American popular music at The University of Toledo, Mack writes about how similar self-made personas resist racial, social, economic and gendered oppression.


Richard Marx, Stories to Tell: A Memoir

A late ’80s pop star whose catalog still holds up, Marx writes about his life and career, including a few interactions with era-defining figures like Olivia Newton-John and Kenny Rogers. He also gives his candid perspective of what the music industry is really like. By the way, can’t you totally hear Alison Krauss covering “Right Here Waiting“?


Willie Nelson with Turk Pipkin, Willie Nelson’s Letters to America

At 88 years old, Willie Nelson is a living legend with a modern point of view. Yet, rather than ranting on social media, he’s channeled his thoughts into a series of letters, even writing one to Texas and another to marijuana. With his classic lyrics reprinted alongside these letters, the book captures his conversational charisma.


Sinéad O’Connor, Rememberings

This Irish artist made an iconic music video by tearfully emoting into the lens, but there is much more to her story than “Nothing Compares 2U” and her infamous appearance on SNL. As The Guardian notes, “O’Connor also doesn’t need a ghost writer because she has, throughout all of it, rarely been at a loss for what to say.”


Sarit Packer and Itamar Srulovlich, Honey & Co: Chasing Smoke: Cooking Over Fire Around the Levant

In this cookbook and travelogue, the founders of London restaurant Honey & Co. are seeking out savory smoke flavors in Egypt, Jordan, Israel, Turkey, and Greece. And it’s not just grilled meat! Fruits, vegetables, breads and “Unmissables” are make their way into these pages, too. Find out more about the authors on BGS’s The Shift List.


Kim Ruehl, A Singing Army: Zilphia Horton and the Highlander Folk School

An activist and song collector, Zilphia Horton finally gets her due. Ruehl (also a BGS contributor) explains how Horton adapted folk music and hymns for empowerment and social causes, with “We Shall Overcome” as just one example. Considering the school’s ties to civil rights, this piece of Tennessee history merits the attention.


Bobby Rush with Herb Powell, I Ain’t Studdin’ Ya: My American Blues Story

A favorite on the blues scene since the 1950s, Bobby Rush remains a beloved figure in the genre, winning his second Grammy for Best Traditional Blues Album earlier this year. A well-traveled entertainer at age 87, this memoir follows his remarkable life journey from Louisiana to Arkansas, on to Chicago and ultimately the Blues Hall of Fame.


Paul Simon, The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy): A Children’s Picture Book

If you gotta make the morning last with little ones around, try this imaginative picture book. With song lyrics from the 1966 Simon & Garfunkel classic and vivid illustrations by Keith Henry Brown, the 24-page book captures the small details of city life by following a bunny on a bicycle — how groovy is that?