BGS 5+5: Bryan McDowell

Artist: Bryan McDowell
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland
Latest Album: Bryan McDowell (out November 7, 2025)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Red

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

Literature, and particularly the novel form, is where I’ve gotten more and more inspiration. I appreciate lessons in a sort of general creative craft that I’ve found by understanding, for example, painters’ processes, but I think since I’ve worked increasingly with lyrics, I’ve turned more to some classic novels for inspo. Some of the newer unreleased songs are from that source, like this laid-back song I have that draws on Crime and Punishment, the first psychological thriller I think it is. The entirety of the book is the suspense and mental anguish of knowing a person who’s committed a terrible crime and is momentarily suspended from actual accountability for it. They’re just tortured to illness by their thoughts. As it turns out, that suspension of accountability is gripping. At least, I think so. What we do in those moments or what we think we would do or think is worth a bit more exploration.

Most songs aren’t quite so directly inspired by another particular work as this, but I know I’ve often taken songs I had that seem unfocused and I’ll back up and try to imagine a central character and maybe even plot out a bit of a storyline, thinking about the main conflict. When I do that, I think I’m always trying to conjure up some feeling of a subtle and human and well-developed character in a book. A novel does this thing of pulling you in close to a character by sustained familiarity and rich development. And a good song might do something similar, it’s just that maybe it’s presented as more of a puzzle box using all kinds of literary devices, meaning-laden language, and rhythm, etc. But if it’s like a puzzle box, then you as the writer still have to be intimate with the characters so that you can unfold them with precision. You have to have everything in its right place.

What’s your favorite memory of being on stage ?

The first year I started touring back in 2012, I was playing with the Claire Lynch Band at MerleFest. I think we had a mainstage afternoon set on Saturday, maybe. Russ Jordan was there and all the usual Wilkesboro crew and there was a decent crowd out in the old Lowe’s lawn chairs. So we finished our set and I walked off and was striking the stage for the next act, which was the Tony Rice Unit. Well at some point I start hearing rumblings that Tony didn’t have a fiddler with him. He had planned on getting king Stu [Stuart Duncan] over for the set, but MerleFest had booked the Nashville Bluegrass Band on like the Creekside Stage opposite Tony’s mainstage set. As it turned out, all the names of great fiddlers being thrown around were over there watching Stu, of course.

Anyway, I was there at the mainstage. Right place, right time. He didn’t know me from Adam, but Tony’s bass player was bending his ear giving me a good recommendation, because he was also the bass player for the Claire Lynch Band. Tony got up there and did the whole line check with the band and walked backstage as if they would play the set as a four-piece, but Mark Schatz must’ve been selling me hard, because five minutes before set time he pulls me back to their little green room and Tony walks up and sticks out his hand and says in his kind of broken-up voice, “How would you like to be a member of the Unit?” He seemed really frail even then and I remember consciously kind of being careful shaking his hand. I got up and did a quick mic check and the tech put a wash of the band in the monitors. Russ announced the Unit and I walked up and played the set with my stomach in my throat and looking fresh off the turnip truck.

I really hope Tony enjoyed it, or at least that he didn’t mind me much over there. He seemed to be having a good time, anyway. It’s the only time I ever got to play with or even speak with him, but his albums were probably the single biggest influence on my musicianship. I was going to Rice Unit concerts before I was born and had played his tapes until the pitch was all messed up and then switched to CDs and played them until they were all scratched to hell – and on and on. Sometime later I found out that Sierra Hull had decided to hire me based on that set with Tony (she was listening out in the VIP section) and then as a result I think I ended up getting a lot of good work with people down the road. I’ve had a lot of good memories on stage now and been able to sit in with many of my heroes, but that one still stands out.

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

I got really into section hiking during and before COVID, when I was back in Carolina and I ended up doing some of the Appalachian Trail up in Pennsylvania. At one point I could’ve walked out my front door and a mile up the road was a hundred miles of trails I could link up with that eventually led up to Mount Mitchell, the tallest peak east of the Mississippi. Such a great use of a week or weekend. Woods, mountains, and the quiet are my home. I hear the sweet decomposing forest floor smell is particularly good for mental health.

It doesn’t take long walking like that before everything I should be doing just falls into place. Musically, in life, with people. It all works itself out. I have an important line of a song come to me or a new crooked fiddle tune just falls out. There’s an old-timey tune I haven’t named yet that came to me like that. I think we all have much better versions of ourselves – our more authentic selves – that come back rising up once we get out from under the weight of these daily intrusions.

The sociologist Habermas called it a “colonization of the life world,” crept up slowly over the last 100 years with all the markets reaching their tendrils into our daily lives, encroaching on the time that we have to just be human and experience the world without dealing with being persuaded by something or someone. Going to the woods for me is just a remembering of yourself as a person and who you are in the world, which is the thing I think that modernity would like us most to forget.

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

I’m a big fan of Wayne Shorter’s Witch Hunt. I used to listen to that album incessantly back in the day. He’s one of my favorite musicians, generally, but there was some strange and good voodoo happening with the crew on that recording. Everyone was at their most tasteful. That music was greater than the sum of its parts, and the sum of its parts is no small sum if you look at the album personnel. Great writing, great playing.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

If I didn’t work in music, I’d own a boutique cheese curds shop that’s word of mouth only and hard to find. I’d call it the Squeakeasy. Just need backers.


Photo Credit: Margarita Photography

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Gena Britt, Sammy Brue, and More

Happy first Friday of November! Let’s kick off a month of new music roundups with our first edition of our usual weekly collection for November.

To begin, banjoist Gena Britt – whom you may know from Sister Sadie – releases her brand new solo album, Streets, Rivers, Dreams & Heartaches today. We’re sharing “What Kind of Memory Will You Be” off the new project to celebrate its launch. It’s one of Britt’s favorite tracks from the album. Her Sister Sadie bandmate, fiddler Deanie Richardson, is also included in our roundup today, joining fellow fiddler Kimber Ludiker (of Della Mae) on a twin fiddle rendition of a rip-roaring original instrumental, “No-See-Um Stomp.” It’ll have you dancing and smacking the hell out of some sandflies, too.

Singer-songwriter and guitarist Sammy Brue previews his upcoming album that pays tribute to one of his creative heroes, Justin Townes Earle, by crafting songs from inhabiting and being inspired by Earle’s journals. Brue wrote “Lonely Mornings” based on snippets of unrecorded lyrics in Earle’s journals, before Earle’s own recording of “Lonely Mornings” was released on ALL IN last year. The tunes stem from the same source, and feel connected, but show the intricate ways a single origin point can grow into two distinct songs. Watch the video for Brue’s “Lonely Mornings” below.

Our Missouri bluegrass pals the HillBenders bring us a brand new music video for their most recent single, a rock and roll and disco-infused string band version of Ola Belle Reed’s classic, “I’ve Endured.” The band leans into their genre-blending tendencies and highlight a couple of new members in the new studio music video, too. Plus, Americana-folk singer-songwriter Brendan Walter launches his new album, Disappearing Days, today and we’re sharing a new music video for his song “Pipe Dream.” Contemplating the realities and trials of building a career in the music industry, “Pipe Dream” and the album together demonstrate Walter’s goals in music are anything but far-fetched.

Make sure to check out a new single from guitarist-writer-archivist Cameron Knowler, as well, who covers Elizabeth Cotten’s “Wilson Rag” in a simple, pared-down arrangement featuring acoustic guitar, pedal steel, and kick drum. Knowler tweaks Cotten’s original arrangement slightly, continuing the age-old tradition of musical transfer and cross-pollination in bluegrass, old-time, and beyond.

It’s quite a nice roundup to get the month rolling, isn’t it? Check it out for yourself below, ’cause You Gotta Hear This.

Gena Britt, “What Kind of Memory Will You Be”

Artist: Gena Britt
Hometown: Star, North Carolina
Song: “What Kind of Memory Will You Be”
Album: Streets, Rivers, Dreams & Heartaches
Release Date: November 7, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This song was penned by one of my Sister Sadie bandmates Dani Flowers and co-written by Paul Sikes. She had actually sent it to us several years before she ever joined the band. I remembered it and pulled it back out when I was starting to gather songs for this recording. I asked her if she would mind if I recorded it one weekend that we were on the road and she graciously agreed. We had so much fun working this up and recording it in the studio. It ended up being one of my favorite tunes on the album. And, that Dobro ride at the end of the song by Jeff Partin is out of this world good! I hope everyone enjoys listening as much as we did recording it!” – Gena Britt

Track Credits:
Gena Britt – Banjo, lead vocal
John Meador – Guitar, harmony vocal
Alan Bartram – Acoustic bass, harmony vocal
Jason Carter – Fiddle
Jonathan Dillon – Mandolin
Jeff Partin – Resonator guitar
Tony Creasman – Drums, percussion


Sammy Brue, “Lonely Mornings”

Artist: Sammy Brue
Hometown: Ogden, Utah
Song: “Lonely Mornings”
Album: The Journals
Release Date: November 12, 2025 (video); January 23, 2026 (album)
Label: Bloodshot Records

In Their Words: “The song ‘Lonely Mornings’ was written in collaboration with Justin Townes Earle’s journals. After I wrote this song, New West Records released a new album of Justin’s called ALL IN which contained unreleased recordings and songs of his. I was ecstatic to find a song called ‘Lonely Mornings’; it was like a sign. Even though our songs didn’t sound similar, they are connected through a couple lines at the end of his last verse and a similar cadence on the tag line. I found the early rendition of his lyrics and they seemed to be almost a decade old, which goes to show how long Justin really carved a song like it was made of marble. I found inspiration and a whole song in just one verse of his true version of ‘Lonely Mornings’ before I even knew it existed. To me, this song holds the mundane scenes that go with living the artist lifestyle. It also holds a sentiment that we both share, which is the love of spending a morning alone… a writer’s heaven.” – Sammy Brue


The HillBenders, “Tradical Volume 1: I’ve Endured”

Artist: The HillBenders
Hometown: Springfield, Missouri
Song: “Tradical Volume 1: I’ve Endured”
Release Date: August 19, 2025 (single); November 7, 2025 (video)

In Their Words: “We’ve always leaned into ‘bluegrass meets rock ’n’ roll,’ a tag our late manager Louis Myers, co-founder of SXSW, gave us early on. So when we started talking about a new recording project, we didn’t feel the need to change course. Like I tell people, we blame our love for traditional roots music and classic rock on our parents’ vinyl collections. There are so many great legacies to pull from in that wax.

“Instead of putting out a standard album or EP, we decided to start a new series called Tradical, where we let those two loves live together. The first release is Tradical Volume 1: I’ve Endured. For the traditional side we went to Appalachian songwriter Ola Belle Reed’s classic ‘I’ve Endured’ and gave it a rock almost disco groove.

“This track also lets you hear our newest bandmates and singer-songwriters, Andrew Morris (banjo/mandolin) and Jody Bilyeu (keys/mandolin). Jody takes the lead vocal on this first Tradical release. This song is our nod to the rocky road that is show business and to the people who keep going against the odds simply because they love music and performing.” – Jimmy Rea

Track Credits:
Jim Rea – Guitar, harmony vocal
Gary Rea – Bass, harmony vocal
Jody Bilyeu – Mandolin, lead vocal
Andrew Morris – Banjo
John Anderson – Drums


Cameron Knowler, “Wilson Rag” 

Artist: Cameron Knowler
Hometown: Yuma, Arizona
Song: “Wilson Rag”
Album: East of the Gilas (Lagniappe Session)
Release Date: November 14, 2025 (EP)
Label: Castle Dome Records

In Their Words: “As far as anyone knows, Elizabeth Cotten composed ‘Wilson Rag’ and recorded it a few times on various projects. Though her performances often include a third part which changes slightly from take to take, I decided to focus on the first two parts, adding a bit of reharmonization to make the tune sing with my buddy Will Ellis’ pedal steel playing. Ellis also engineered this track at his home studio in East Nashville, where varied bird songs quietly spilled through a large window. I’m the one playing the ratty Lyon & Healy kick drum from the nineteen teens or twenties, which was performed live with an early-1900s Antonio Grauso acoustic guitar, tuned quite low. I’m also using one of Guy Clark’s old thumbpicks. This tune sure feels great under the fingers and is one that I’ve played for quite some time.” – Cameron Knowler

Track Credits:
Cameron Knowler – Acoustic guitar, kick drum
Will Ellis – Pedal steel, engineer


Deanie Richardson & Kimber Ludiker, “No-See-Um Stomp”

Artist: Deanie Richardson & Kimber Ludiker
Song: “No-See-Um Stomp”
Release Date: November 7, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘No-See-Um Stomp’ after meeting a flock of no-see-ums for the first time on the East Coast. As a PNW girl, I was mortified by their existence and the one billion bites I suffered. This tune came out of me very quickly. The first part is the swarm and the second part… human agony. I recorded it once with my band Della Mae and, although there’s an amazing ‘twin guitar’ moment with Avril Smith and Molly Tuttle, I always heard this tune as a twin fiddle tune. As you know, you never encounter just one of these bugs, so I’m very excited to have a twin fiddle version of this with Deanie Richardson. We took a mild ‘controlled chaos’ approach to this, which fits the tune perfectly. Instead of linear twin fiddle parts, we depart here and there, swarming around each other just like the little critters this tune was written for.” – Kimber Ludiker

Track Credits:
Deanie Richardson – Fiddle
Kimber Ludiker – Fiddle
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar
Hasee Ciaccio – Upright bass
Tristan Scroggins – Mandolin
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo


Brendan Walter, “Pipe Dream”

Artist: Brendan Walter
Hometown: Dallas, Texas
Album: Disappearing Days
Song: “Pipe Dream”
Release Date: November 7, 2025
Label: RECORDS/Sony Music Nashville

In Their Words: “I started writing this song while I was still in college, when I was figuring out if I wanted to pursue my majors or follow my lifelong dream of being a musician. At first, music felt like a pipe dream due to the fact that I knew nothing about the industry or how to get started. During college and for about a year after graduating, I bartended full-time to survive while nurturing this dream to make music my full-time gig. Those long nights definitely lit a fire under me to fully pursue music. I had no idea how I was going to accomplish my dreams in this wildly new world, but I knew I wanted it more than anything else and I wasn’t going to stop until I could make it a reality.

“Now, having a couple years in the industry under my belt, I still feel like I’m the new kid on the block, but I know a lot of other artists have felt that way so I thought it was fitting to show a glimpse of my struggles and aspirations along the way. I also worked in a strum pattern inspired by Mumford & Sons, because their music got me into playing guitar and writing songs. I had the opportunity to play with session musicians for the first time when making my debut album and, on this song specifically, I got to play with the very talented Kurt Ozan. Hope everyone enjoys this one!” – Brendan Walter


Photo Credit: Gena Britt by Tom Turk; Sammy Brue by Joshua Black Wilkins.

Briscoe Hit The Road and Wrote a Country Album

Through the windshield of their Ford Transit van, the duo Briscoe drew songwriting inspiration from the Southwestern landscape during a long, meandering road trip after graduating from the University of Texas. However, this trek was more than just a rite of passage, as band members Philip Lupton and Truett Heintzelman were launching their first national tour. In those seemingly endless miles between show dates, they would trade lyrical ideas to flesh out once they got back home to Austin.

Described by the band as “Texas folk-rock,” those cinematic songs have now surfaced on Briscoe’s second album, Heat of July. Produced by Brad Cook and released by ATO Records, the collection is a generally optimistic highway companion set against the backdrop of sunsets somewhere south of Alpine, Texas, long drives to Denver, and Mexican eagles circling overhead.

During a brief break from the road, Briscoe spoke with Good Country about how banjo fits into their sound, discovering bluegrass through YouTube videos, and the John Prine classic that set it all in motion.

I found it interesting that you were writing this album as you were driving around the country. You’re going 80 miles an hour as these songs are coming to you. Can you set the scene of what that looked like?

Philip Lupton: Yeah, that’s a great question. A lot of this record was written on the road just because we were touring hard on our debut album, West of It All. You’re in the van for so many hours a day that you eventually get tired of listening to music, no matter how much you like music. You just need some silence. I think that’s when Truett and I can find a little bit of inspiration. Like, “OK, cut the music.”

“Arizona Shining,” the second song on the record, is very much written as I’m taking in the landscape through the window. You just start to mumble a few things under your breath. And then you hold up your phone and take a little voice memo. You get back home in a couple weeks, you come back to that idea, and then, finally, get to put it to a progression and bring it to life.

When you’re out on tour, coming out of your hotel, and you see that van hooked up to a trailer, does it ever strike you, like, “We’re really out here making this happen”?

PL: Yeah, absolutely it does! There’s this old Hayes Carll song called “I Got a Gig.” I listen to that song and I’m like, “OK, we’re doing it. We’re road dogging it.” We’re staying at the cheap hotels and playing gigs for cash at the door and whatever. We’ve seen a lot of growth and success in a lot of markets, but when you’re taking it all across the country, up into Canada, there’s a lot of those same stories you can experience any time on the road.

The opening song, “Saving Grace,” seems to set a tone for the album. There’s a very positive tone in that song. Is that a fair statement, do you think?

Truett Heintzelman: Super fair, yeah. A lot of this record is written over the last year and a half to two years and one of the big components of that time for both of us is that we both got married. So that’s what we were wanting to convey. We view marriage in a positive light and, God willing, we’ll always view it in a positive light. “Saving Grace” was written about marrying our respective wives.

For me, that song was about meeting my wife and realizing early on, “OK, this feels different and I don’t want this to go away.” We just tried to write as much as we could about our lives and experiences and our time between now and the last record. And, obviously, getting married is something that takes up a lot of your brain, you naturally end up thinking about it a lot.

You’ve got a cool banjo vibe on “Saving Grace” and a couple other songs on the album, too. Philip, what pulled you into the sound of the banjo?

PL: It goes back to learning guitar when I was middle school-age. I just had a desire to learn an instrument that was different and would allow me to jam with my buddies. So, I bought a banjo at a secondhand music store in San Angelo, where I’m from, for like 150 bucks, and I ended up really falling in love with the Avett Brothers. Back in the day, when Truett and I were both learning to play guitar and sing, I’d play the banjo and Truett would play the guitar and we’d cover the Avett Brothers. That was how we fell in love with playing together.

The banjo always had a strong presence. When we started writing, it was almost second nature to incorporate the banjo in some way. If Truett was handling most of the rhythm guitar, I picked up the banjo in lieu of a lead guitar. We just kind of rolled with that, way back when.

You mentioned middle school. Is that around the same time you guys met?

PL: Yeah, I was a year older than Truett in school and we met at summer camp. We just hit it off and we were both learning guitar and both interested in similar music. We saw each other every year after that at camp and became really close in high school. San Angelo is a smaller town and we’d have to go to a major city for any big need, like a big hospital system. So, my family would go to San Antonio quite a bit. I’d get dropped off at Truett’s house and we’d play guitar until my family was ready to go back to San Angelo.

Do you guys remember the first time you sang together?

TH: Oh yeah, that first summer we met at camp, we met on the first day of the session, which was two weeks long. We both brought acoustic guitars, so it was like, “All right. You play, I play.” “What do you like to play?” “Oh, I like that song too.”

We started going back and forth, kind of jamming all throughout that week. At the end of that week, we played “Paradise” by John Prine at our camp talent show, which was really just for us. We joke that I don’t think anyone else in that camp auditorium had any idea what we were saying, but they were just excited that we were singing and we were too.

How did John Prine hit your radar in middle school?

TH: There’s a guy named Joshua Lee Turner who’s in a band called the Other Favorites and he has this YouTube channel, it’s like a gold mine. He’s super talented, an awesome artist, and he and his buddies cover all these incredible songs. I owe watching Joshua Lee Turner on YouTube for a good chunk of the artists and the music that I love. I consume a ton of bluegrass music and a lot of that is because of him. The song “Old Home Place” is one that I fell in love with after watching him. When Philip and I put it together that we both loved him, that served as a blueprint, too, for us to start posting videos on YouTube.

How did you come up with the name Briscoe?

PL: Briscoe was my grandfather’s middle name. I never met that granddad, but I always loved that name. It’s a name that goes back in my family on that side a few generations. It was in consideration for my name before I was born, but my grandma on the other side of the family didn’t like it. I always liked the name and I started Briscoe in San Angelo before we got to UT, just as a name to put music under. I knew someday Truett and I would be able to do it together, so I just chose Briscoe and rolled with it and then we never had any reason to consider changing it. And that was that.

You guys have seen the whole country by now, touring coast to coast. What is it about living in Texas that makes you want to settle there?

TH: I’ll just get this out of the way now – when you’re born in Texas and raised in Texas, you’re just inherently proud of that. So, from the get-go, you probably have an inflated sense of pride to be from Texas. But we’re now at this place where we’ve gotten to see everything in North America, pretty much. There are so many beautiful parts of this country, and of Canada and Mexico. In all these cities, you’re like, “Wow, this is such a great city. It would be fun to live here.” But I have never found a place where I’ve been like, “I would rather live here than where I live in Texas.” This is where our roots are.

Philip, how about you?

PL: The older I get, the more I appreciate Texas’ contribution in the music world on all different levels, and especially this Texas country/outlaw kind of thing. To name a few guys in particular, Jerry Jeff Walker, Guy Clark, Lyle Lovett, and Robert Earl Keen. The more we appreciate them, the more that we want to resemble what they did. No matter what level of popularity or success they achieved as musicians, they never forgot where they were from. We respect those guys a lot for that, and how they blazed their own path.

We are very proud to be part of the greater Texas subgenre of Americana, folk, and country music, and we feel like that’s where we’re always going to want to be.


Photo Credit: Justin Cook

BGS 5+5: Liam Kazar

Artist: Liam Kazar
Hometown: Chicago, Illinois
Latest Album: Pilot Light (out November 7, 2025)

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Recently I was on the Outlaw Country Tour with Waxahatchee. Sheryl Crow had invited us all to join her on stage for the last night. Her production folks started passing out little percussion instruments, I think I traded the tambourine with Spencer (drummer) for something reasonable I could play. We all stepped up on the drum riser, me with a drumstick and a cowbell. Then Sheryl turned around and took her guitar off in one smooth motion. She passed it to me and whispered, “D.” Once I made it through the first chorus and got the nod from her guitar player that I was hearing the right chords, I knew this would be the peak of my entire life.

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

The next one. Not to be cliché, but it’s true. I’m constantly in fear of having written my last song. I always start from a place of “how the hell do you do this?” I’m on tour right now and I’ve been working on a song whenever I have a guitar in my hands. I oscillate between knowing exactly what I think should happen next and feeling like starting over. Both can be the right answer and that’s pretty par for the course. But every once in a while they fall out of you like a dime from your pocket. Wish I knew how to make that happen every time.

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

Flaubert said, “Madame Bovary, c’est moi.”

It’s all me and none of it’s true. I don’t think I could avoid myself if I tried, but I also pull little visions and observations from the people around me all the time. I think you have to be curious about people to be a good writer.

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

I would say 50% of the music I listen to is instrumental. Jazz from the ’40s and ’50s in particular. Hard bop and big band music is a constant. Duke Ellington is my favorite American artist. Endlessly inspiring and a huge influence on my melodic sensibility.

Although, recently I have been listening to a lot of Romantic symphonies. Beautiful and mind-altering!

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

I think Woody Guthrie might have said it better than I ever could: take it easy, but take it.


Photo Credit: Alexa Viscius

Basic Folk: The Barr Brothers

In the eight years since The Barr Brothers last released an album, Andrew has been drumming with people like Feist, Mumford & Sons, and Broken Social Scene while Brad released a solo record and underwent incredible personal change. Brad made the huge decision to get sober, which he talks about candidly in our Basic Folk interview.

Anything you read about the new record, Let it Hiss, might allude to his newfound sobriety while not mentioning it directly. The band made a conscious decision not to include it in any press releases specifically so that their audience could have their own relationship with the new music. It seems like getting sober has impacted every aspect of the album, but one could listen and project just about any personal pivotal shift onto these songs. Regardless, I am so appreciative that Brad opened up about his sobriety, so we could better understand the music and the incredible relationship that he and Andrew share.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

Elsewhere in our conversation, we talk about Brad’s deep connection to the number 216, its origin, and why he’s kept that number close to him for most of his life. He shares his reflections on the music lessons given to him and Andrew from visiting Malian musicians, who exchanged their services for free dental work from their father. Those lessons completely changed the musical trajectory of the brothers and still impact them today. We also talk about their former band, The Slip (who are actually still active every now and again), a much-loved Boston group that was fully embraced in the jam band world. I find the music of Andrew and Brad Barr to be completely transformative and not of this world – and I’m so grateful for the new record. Please go see them live, especially if you are into celestial experiences!


Photo Credits: Lead image by Sarah Melvin. Alternate images by Meghan Sepe and Pappy’s Portraits.

Singer-Songwriter Madi Diaz is Metal as Hell

Hitting play on singer-songwriter Madi Diaz’s latest album, Fatal Optimist, one wouldn’t automatically identify her close-to-the-mic, chunky strums and anxious, confident vocals as “metal.” But keep listening and trust.

Fatal Optimist is heavy on numerous elements of metal – fantasy, humor, darkness, anger. For much of its runtime, it feels like the inside of a clenched fist, slowly but surely letting go. With songs that are, this time, centered around her solo voice and acoustic guitar, Diaz turns her liminal songwriting further inward than ever. This is saying a lot for an artist who’s no stranger to personal narrative. While her prior album, 2023’s Weird Faith, brushed up against hopeful optimism, this follow-up proves that earned optimism is perhaps the better version.

After all, Diaz chose to open the disc with the wordplay stunner “Hope Less,” a stiff shot of reality that reorients us to a heart at least as full of darkness as light. If the LP’s vibe is “clenched fist,” its songs play like spokes in a wheel rolling us toward the jubilant title track – a progression Diaz admitted in our recent BGS interview was equal parts intentional and inevitable.

This album starts out very quiet. It feels very close and very intimate, then it slowly opens up. Was that the intentional vibe and arc of the album for you?

Madi Diaz: It definitely ended up being a much more lean-in [kind of] record. The further I got down the road, the more it felt very obvious that was just what the song content needed. It’s kind of heavy stuff, I think. It was a lot of mining of the self, which I did a lot privately. So I felt like I wanted the songs to match that [vibe], in the end.

I was listening to it this morning, thinking about your song “Everything Almost” from the last record. Like, how optimistic and full of hope that song is and then this album starts off with a line like “hope less.” Obviously, when you’re writing about personal events in your own life, it’s easy to see connection in the rearview. But I’m wondering if there’s something more to what feels, to me, like a connection between that song and this project.

That’s funny. I was just talking about this. I do feel like a lot of the songs in the last record … are about following that gut intuition. That gut feeling. So a lot of the songs on Weird Faith are absolutely going like, “I think this is it. I think this is gonna work. I think we’re really gonna get there.”

There was a really funny moment I had recently. I was practicing for this tour and putting [together] the set list. I wrote this song called “This Is How a Woman Leaves” for my friend Maren Morris, her last record that she put out [Dreamsicle, 2025]. I am planning on releasing a version … at some point down the road a little bit. But I was practicing “Everything Almost” and then I wanted to go into “This Is How” because in “Everything Almost,” I’m packing the boxes and moving in. In “This Is How” I’m fucking moving out.

Like, “How it started, how it’s going.”

It’s the “fuck around and find out” journey right there, in a nutshell.

Nice. I was reading that you went to an island when you were writing the album. Can I ask what island you went to? And did you know that’s what you were going to do when you started your trip to that island, planning, like, “I’m gonna get it together.” Or was it just kind of like how life happens?

There were, actually, many islands. Physically, mentally. … I started off coming off of this European tour. We finished this tour in Italy, so I went to an island off the coast of Italy and was there by myself. I did a lot of journaling and walking – so much walking. I’m a big processor by walking and talking, so I would kind of record myself as I was processing things out loud. I really wanted to be in a space where I felt safe to do that. It felt like the safest thing was to just take myself away from everybody, so as to not barrage people with [my feelings].

I started off in Ischia and then I ended up, really wonderfully, being asked to be a part of this [songwriters’] colony in Nantucket. So I did that. I ended up going to Long Island with my dad, to Noyack, and just [did] a lot of journaling there.

Also, [I was] feeling very much like I couldn’t tell whether I was the island or the island was the island. It was just this very unescapable lonerism. Solo mission, you know. Like in a spacesuit, kind of feeling. I just couldn’t shake it, so I just took it with me everywhere I went.

Can you talk a little bit about the process of songwriting? Your songs are so personal, almost uncomfortably so. I wonder if that’s the result of writing in an actual journal on paper and if that’s a different kind of creative experience for you than voice memos on your phone, which so many people do now instead of journaling.

I definitely rely on journaling still. A lot. Sometimes, if I’m in a pinch, I’ll text myself an idea. Or, I have [the] Notes app open. A lot of Fatal Optimist was pulled from about a year’s worth of pretty serious journaling and going back over certain words that kind of stuck out. I love journaling. I think it’s like a life scrapbook, you know? There’s a funny thing that happens. Sometimes I’ll open a journal and I don’t even know what year it’s from, because some of the issues [are] so consistent. … But it’s kind of like a sweet reminder, of survival, I guess.

Totally. Do you remember writing the couplet at the beginning of “Lone Wolf”? “Lamb’s gotta lamb, god planned it/ Wolf’s gotta wolf, goddamn it.” It’s such a perfect little song, but it doesn’t feel trope-y. It feels, really, like a strike of inspiration.

Well, I remember it was dead of winter. I was sitting on my couch with Stephen Wilson Jr. and I was going through my journal. I was talking about what was on my heart that felt so difficult, about reaching this person who chose to be a loner. I mean, he literally said to me, “I’m a loner. I’m a lone wolf kind of guy.” And I [thought,] “You just said that. That’s ridiculous.” Like, have you not seen the Pee-wee Herman movie where he’s like, “I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel!”

But it was this thing, you know, that I almost didn’t take seriously, because it was such a crazy thing to say. And I should have [believed him], obviously, because here we are. I was talking to Stephen about it and we were laughing about this wolf character and the lines just fell out. In the aftermath of it, it’s funny.

You know, when you push somebody that wants to be alone away, they tend to want to be less alone. They feel very confronted. I mean, I’ve been there. All of a sudden, you’re confronted with your loneliness and wishing that you actually had that connection. So, when I pushed him away initially, he would just kind of show up and stick around. I really wanted him to leave me alone. Damn it. “Goddamn it” definitely came from that.

The lyric on that song is so simple. You don’t go into a lot of poetry, you don’t go into a lot of storytelling. The wolf keeps showing back up, looking good, trying to get back in. Can you talk a little bit about trusting yourself to keep it so simple? Does that come from editing or did it just feel like that’s what the song was?

I try to say it in a way like we were just talking about it sitting in the bar. I’m trying to not be misunderstood. I’m trying not to feel misunderstood even to myself. So I think I try to keep it clear and cutting, and [the way] it comes out. If it’s possible to get even closer to it, I’ll edit, but I don’t really edit a lot.

Oh wow. So it just comes out that way. That’s impressive.

Sometimes it does just come out that way. Not all the time, but sometimes it mostly does.

The other line on this album that I really wanted to unpack is in “Heavy Metal.” The line is, “In some religions, repetition is spiritual.” I wanted to unpack it a little bit, because music is often a place where people will repeat words or phrases, for a whole bunch of reasons.

But that line made me really listen to the words and phrases you were repeating elsewhere on this album: “Whose move is it to move on.” “I always love you.” “God knows how long.” “Ambivalence.” Can you tell me a little bit about how you decide what to repeat? Is it a conscious choice or just part of the process?

I think when I’m repeating something, it’s because it feels different on every lap. I’ll repeat something when the feeling is lingering in a way that– maybe if I say it enough, some magic spell will break and I’ll be released by this thing. Sometimes I feel like the repetition of it comes from a bit of a desperate [place] like, “Just get it out of me.” Maybe if I do this ten times, I’ll never have to do this ever again, which is why the [line,] “In some religions, repetition is spiritual.” …

You’re always going to carry it with you. You can learn how to hold this. I can learn how to learn from it differently every time, you know.

I guess that’s why repeating “ambivalence” is really interesting to me, because it seems like repeating that particular word is a contradiction.

I guess that’s true. Ambivalence means “caught in the middle.” Feeling in so many different directions. For me, ambivalence feels like a very desperate feeling. It almost feels like it should come with a bit of an alarm bell. Like, “Oh God. I’m feeling all of the feelings at the same time and I don’t know which one to choose.”

That makes sense. The other thing in the song “Heavy Metal” – I wanted to ask about your mom. I feel like you have mentioned your parents in other songs on other albums. But this made me wonder about your relationship with your parents. Somehow, I don’t think people talk about their parents much in music. I can’t figure out why. Do you have any thoughts on that?

I think it’s scary. It’s so scary. When I know a song is about me, I definitely tend to listen with a microscope. No one is trying to hurt anyone, but we’re all really trying our best to process love, pain, joy. I don’t know. Our effect on each other. What’s mine, what’s yours. So yeah, it’s not an easy thing to write about. …

I feel like I’ve felt the most loved and I’ve felt the most hurt by both of my parents. I think that that’s pretty normal. Or maybe not? Maybe it’s not normal.

I think it’s pretty universal.

It always kind of ends up that way. The people closest to you hurt you the most, which is why you really have to trust the people closest to you. So that when they do hurt you, you can [heal].

I think “Heavy Metal” felt right to start you talking about my mom, because she’s kind of a badass and kind of a hardass. In all the best ways and all of the hardest ways. There are some things about being tough and resilient that I wouldn’t trade for the world. It helps me survive in so many corners of my life. But also, I’ve had to really undo some of the damage that being tough does. You start to weaponize that toughness against yourself and others in a way that I didn’t even know I was doing for a long time.

Then [again,] you just don’t want to piss them off because you also want to be able to go home for Thanksgiving and stuff.

Right. That’s what makes it such a metal move, you know, to comment on your mother in this way. I’m assuming she’s still alive. Has she heard the song? Does she have any feedback for you?

I haven’t heard [feedback] yet. I really don’t know. But I’m so grateful to my mom for raising me the way that she did and giving me and my brother the lives that she gave us. I feel so lucky that she’s my mom. It’s hard to have a song like this. … But that’s just fucking art, man. It’s so hard, at the end of the day. You know, we can make it as personal as it is or as just-about-me as it is.

The last thing I want to ask about is the song “Fatal Optimist,” which is sort of a sonic departure from the rest of the album even though it’s obviously very on-topic. As a listener, it feels like we just went on this long, arduous, emotional journey, and now we’re suddenly above the tree line and the drums are here and everybody’s in the room. Not to get too nerdy about sequencing and stuff, but was there any world in which that song could have been anywhere else on the album?

It would have been a nice break, wouldn’t it have been? I just couldn’t do that. I couldn’t interrupt the intensity of this record.

I do know that optimism is a soothing balm. When it hits you, it just hits you. There’s no explanation for it. And I knew that, for me, I want a reason to listen to a record again. … This whole record feels like one step after the other. It’s like my attempt at a gift or something [for] going through it. Hopefully, these [songs] can all be like little lights on the path that lead the way to this finish line of fatal optimism. Then we can run it all back again.


Photo Credit: Allister Ann

Finding Lucinda: Episode 12

After the conclusion of their journey, Ismay tours the nation with screenings of Finding Lucinda, inviting local artists to play Lucinda Williams songs in the round. Following a show at Chico Women’s Club in California, Ismay interviews Chuck Prophet, a celebrated musician who co-produced the film. The pair discuss the origins of the project, what surprised them about making this documentary, and how Lucinda has influenced their songwriting and careers. They also discuss Chuck’s time opening for Lucinda in the early 2000s.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

Produced in partnership with BGS and distributed through the BGS Podcast Network, Finding Lucinda expands on the themes of Ismay’s eponymous documentary film, exploring artistic influence, creative resilience, and the impact of Williams’ music. New episodes are released twice a month. Listen right here on BGS or wherever you get podcasts.

Finding Lucinda, the documentary film that inspired and instigated the podcast, is now available to purchase, rent, or stream via video on demand. (Watch the film, listen to the soundtrack, or find a screening near you here.) Both the film and podcast showcase never-before-heard archival material, intimate conversations, and a visual journey through the literal and figurative landscapes that molded Lucinda’s songwriting.

Credits:
Produced, recorded, and mixed by Avery Hellman for Neanderthal Records, LLC.
Special thanks to: Rick Anderson, Gavin Jones, Joel Fendelman, Rose Bush, Liz McBee, Mick Hellman, Chuck Prophet, Jonathan McHugh, Sydney Lane, Jacqueline Sabec, Rosemary Carroll, Lucinda Williams & Tom Overby.


Photo Credit: Peter Dervin

Find more information on Finding Lucinda here. Find our full Finding Lucinda episode archive here.

Watch Finding Lucinda, listen to the soundtrack, or find a screening near you here.

You Gotta Hear This: Eddie Barbash, Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, and More

Saxophone, mountain dulcimer, mandolins, banjos – what else could you need? Our weekly new music roundup is here!

Today, we complete our mini-series with saxophonist Eddie Barbash with a video for “Fort Smith Breakdown,” an old-time fiddle tune performed exquisitely by Barbash on sax in a lovely, natural setting. You can find links to watch all four of Barbash’s live performance videos from his upcoming project Larkspur, below. On the other end of the roots instrument continuum, perhaps the South’s most accomplished and technical mountain dulcimer player Sarah Kate Morgan teams up with fiddler Leo Shannon on a new album, Featherbed, out today. To celebrate, we’re sharing their track “Belle of Lexington,” which they first sourced from a Library of Congress recording made in 1941 before crafting their own arrangement.

Bluegrass stalwarts Chris Jones & the Night Drivers offer a delightful play on words with “Under Over,” a song Jones wrote with broadcaster-songwriter Terry Herd. The uptempo, straight-ahead bluegrass single is available today wherever you stream music. Jones’ labelmate, mandolinist and singer-songwriter Ashby Frank, also launches a new single today. “Mr. Engineer” is a Jimmy Martin and Paul Williams classic that Frank has performed for years, but only just recorded for the first time.

Alt-Americana rockers Keyland release their new EP today, so don’t miss the title track to Stand Up To You below. As you’ll hear, this soulful Oklahoman outfit blend so many roots genres together into a melting pot style all their own. Singer-songwriter Jon Danforth then takes us just across the state line to Arkansas with his new single, “Arkansas Sunrise,” which will be included on his upcoming 2026 album, Natural State. Dripping with childhood memories and nostalgia, it’s an homage to his home state and its moniker, from which he pulled the title of the new LP.

Plus, don’t miss the new music video for a just-released single from singer-songwriter Abby Hamilton “Fried Green Tomatoes” was inspired by a line uttered by Idgie Threadgoode of the novel (and film) Fried Green Tomatoes. The vibey country-folk track explores relationships and friendships – and the parts of ourselves we display or keep hidden away.

There’s plenty to explore and enjoy from all corners of the roots music landscape! You Gotta Hear This…


Eddie Barbash, “Fort Smith Breakdown”

Artist: Eddie Barbash
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Fort Smith Breakdown”
Album: Larkspur
Release Date: November 28, 2025 (The album will be released one song at a time with the last track coming out Nov. 28).

In Their Words: “I learned ‘Fort Smith Breakdown’ from a great Floyd, Virginia, old-time fiddler named Earl White. My favorite old-time guitarist Danny Knicely was playing with him at the time and called it ‘that tune that goes to the 4 all of a sudden.’ This practice of adding or dropping beats in unexpected places is one of my favorite things about the old-time tradition. Four of the nine tunes that I chose for Larkspur are ‘crooked’ like this. We made this recording on a trail through the Larkspur Conservation area’s natural burial ground. After two days on the grounds, I’m completely sold on natural burial. I’d much rather feed the forest and donate my body to the preservation of wild land than to rot alone in a concrete box under a lifeless lawn.” – Eddie Barbash

(Editor’s Note: Watch all the videos in our mini-series with Eddie Barbash here, here, and here.)


Jon Danforth, “Arkansas Sunrise”

Artist: Jon Danforth
Hometown: Dallas, Texas
Song: “Arkansas Sunrise”
Album: Natural State
Release Date: October 24, 2025 (single); January 23, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Arkansas Sunrise’ is about the countless, lazy Saturday mornings I’ve spent in my home state with family and friends. Arkansas is a beautiful state and a wonderful place to be, especially in the fall when the hot temperatures finally drop. There is nothing better than waking up to cool weather, leaves changing, and bacon crackling alongside the people you love. My goal was to capture that warmth and nostalgia in a song that hopefully honors my home state.” – Jon Danforth

Track Credits: 
Jon Danforth – Vocals, acoustic guitar, songwriter
Will Carmack – Bass
Aaron Carpenter – Drums, percussion
Bobby Orozco – Piano
Melissa Cox – Fiddle
Hannah Brooks – Background vocals


Ashby Frank, “Mr. Engineer”

Artist: Ashby Frank
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Mr. Engineer”
Release Date: October 24, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I started performing this Jimmy Martin and Paul Williams classic on stage with Mashville Brigade years ago and recently started adding it to the set list of my Yachtgrass band’s shows. I have wanted to record it since I started singing it live and I am so proud of the finished product. I just love the old-school vibe and super lonesome content of the lyrics and melody, and of course Matt Menefee (banjo) and Jim VanCleve (fiddle) added some wicked and bluesy solos that made the whole track gel. I can’t wait for everyone to hear it!” – Ashby Frank

Track Credits:
Ashby Frank – Mandolin, lead vocal, harmony vocal
Seth Taylor – Acoustic guitar
Travis Anderson – Upright bass
Matt Menefee – Banjo
Jim VanCleve – Fiddle
Jaelee Roberts – Harmony vocal


Abby Hamilton, “Fried Green Tomatoes”

Artist: Abby Hamilton
Hometown: Nicholasville, Kentucky
Song: “Fried Green Tomatoes”
Release Date: October 24, 2025

In Their Words: “‘I’m as settled as I’ll ever be’ is the line from Idgie Threadgoode in Fried Green Tomatoes that inspired this song. It’s about the inner dialogue in relationships and friendships as you never show the world what you question from within. The world sees you as secure and confident, which you very well may be in some ways, but inside you feel a sense of doubt that no one else knows. Maybe just the most intimate of friendships or relationships get questioned. That in whatever you’re carrying on about inside or out, it’s still ‘look at those fried green tomatoes’ in the middle of ‘she’s trying to teach me how to cook.’ Chaos and joy and confusion. You can be all out of sorts about whatever’s in your brain and it’s still just ‘fried green tomatoes.’ The right person will make you laugh and ground you, remind you that you’re not so alone.” – Abby Hamilton


Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “Under Over”

Artist: Chris Jones & The Night Drivers
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Under Over”
Release Date: October 24, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I have no idea where the phrase ‘file it under over’ came from; it was just one of those things that popped into my head one day. Aside from the play on words, I just got to thinking about the idea of filing something away for good, whether it be a bad relationship or an addiction of some kind, and I pictured a file with ‘over’ on the tab. I’ve been friends with songwriter and bluegrass broadcaster Terry Herd for many years and he’s written all sorts of award-winning and hit bluegrass songs with a range of writers. But we had never written one together and it’s been something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. We discussed the song concept together when I was at his house in Nashville and we got right to work on it. He was the one who came up with the phrase ‘in a little box of pain,’ which I think is my favorite part of the song. The uptempo, straight-ahead bluegrass feel really fit with the uplifting feeling of filing something negative away and moving on.” – Chris Jones

Track Credits:
Chris Jones – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Jon Weisberger – Bass
Mark Stoffel – Mandolin, harmony vocal
Grace van’t Hof – Banjo, harmony vocal
Tony Creasman – Drums
Carley Arrowood – Fiddle


Keyland, “Stand Up To You”

Artist: Keyland
Hometown: Tulsa, Oklahoma
Song: “Stand Up To You”
Album: Stand Up To You (EP)
Release Date: October 24, 2025
Label: One Riot

In Their Words: “I’m hoping this song feels like you’ve heard it before and you can’t remember where or from whom. I think most of my favorite music has this effect on me – whether it’s from 1965 or 2025. When I listen to music like this, I feel like I’ve known it forever. And not in a redundant, boring sense, but in a way that feels as though that particular song has just always existed in some deeper, elusive but still tangible reality. Like you’ve always known it, but you can’t exactly remember how.

“I’m unsure if we’ve actually accomplished that, but hopefully it is somewhat close. I also love music that makes you feel like you are in the same room as the artist. I think live-tracked recordings have a lot to do with this particular effect, so we leaned into that with this song – as well as a few others on this EP. I was listening to a lot of Ray Charles, Stones, and Faces (and will always be) when I wrote this one, so I’d guess that will come through as well. In the words of Taylor Goldsmith, ‘Anyone that’s making anything new only breaks something else…'” – Kyle Ross


Sarah Kate Morgan & Leo Shannon, “Belle of Lexington”

Artist: Sarah Kate Morgan & Leo Shannon
Hometown: Hindman, Kentucky (Sarah Kate); Whitesburg, Kentucky (Leo)
Song: “Belle of Lexington”
Album: Featherbed
Release Date: October 24, 2025
Label: June Appal Recordings

In Their Words: “This is a very old fiddle tune which I learned as a teenager in my mom’s living room in Seattle, Washington. The source is a recording of fiddler Emmet Lundy made by the Library of Congress in Galax, Virginia, in 1941. (Many thanks to the Slippery Hill archive for facilitating this transmission.) Eighty-four years later, our performance of the tune was recorded live at The Burl in Lexington, Kentucky, by the intrepid Nick Petersen. We dedicate this track to all the beautiful people in all the Lexingtons around the world.” – Leo Shannon


Photo Credit: Eddie Barbash by Jeremy Stanley; Chris Jones & the Night Drivers by Brooke Stevens.

Tending to Fires,
Getting to Truth

New days and clean slates keep coming for singer-songwriter Caitlin Canty. She is sharpening her skills, raising a family, and continuing to build a body of work that reflects resilience, quiet strength, and resolute honesty. Her new record, Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove, is a testament to her evolving artistry – an album that turns natural solitude, domestic change, and hard-earned wisdom into a collection of songs that sound both grounded in the earth and untethered from time.

Canty was born in Proctor, Vermont, in 1982 and grew up surrounded by rural landscapes and the gentle rhythms of small-town life. Raised by a schoolteacher mother and a housepainter father, she found song in ordinary moments – singing in chorus and playing trombone in school before receiving her first guitar and VHS-tape lessons at age 17. After earning a biology degree from Williams College she moved to New York City, where she worked for the Emmy-nominated series Live from the Artists Den while pursuing music on her own terms.

Her early releases – including Golden Hour (2012) and the breakout Reckless Skyline (2015) – drew acclaim for her “casually devastating voice” and “hauntingly urgent” Americana ballads. She won the Telluride Troubadour songwriting competition in 2015 and began touring extensively across the U.S. and Europe, collaborating with artists like Peter Bradley Adams and Jamey Johnson, and earning praise from Rolling Stone, NPR, and No Depression for her gritty lyricism and radiant poise.

In recent years, she and her husband, musician Noam Pikelny, moved back to Vermont, settling on a mountaintop near her childhood home. There, Canty continues to record, tour, and write – with the same battered 1939 Recording King guitar that has accompanied her throughout her career.

One of the album’s most tender tracks, “Don’t Worry About Nothing,” carries the voice of a mother consoling and encouraging against the endless churn of small anxieties. It is at once lullaby, sermon, and reminder: that one bad thing does not mean the whole world has collapsed.

“There is a mom’s voice and perspective to focus and worry about the things that do matter,” Canty explained. “But also how little worries and little jealousies can work against us… Tornadoes, awful things, [they] remind you how short life is and what’s actually important.”

The song’s origins stretch back to a small mishap – her young son’s toy castle tumbling down – but its weight comes from deeper, darker places. In March 2020, a tornado tore through her East Nashville neighborhood, missing her home by mere yards. Not long after, the pandemic upended the world. The castle was a metaphor, she realized, for the way everything can crash at once, yet perspective offers a way forward.

For Canty, who released Reckless Skyline a decade ago, the test of time has reshaped her relationship to both music and ambition. “My real goal is to be writing more and better songs,” she said. “My real goal is to be connecting with more people through those songs, playing with musicians that I adore, and getting on good stages. Not worrying about courting people, but to do right by the music.”

Doing right by the music has meant widening her scope. Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove reaches for longevity, not trends. It sits comfortably in a lineage of songwriters who, like Canty, trust the songs to outlive themselves. “I look to musicians who have had longer careers, like Dolly Parton,” she said. “She is singing songs that she wrote in her 20s. There are so many who have a gorgeous output of songs that are their lifelong friends. It’s not about when they were written or how people liked them then.”

Canty doesn’t wait around for the muse. To her, waiting for inspiration is “a fool’s errand.” She compares songs to photographs – fleeting impressions that must be captured before they fade. “You take a picture and you remember it as notable and beautiful and there is something about it that makes you want to share it. That type of inspiration sparks a song. It happens countless times a day.”

But the challenge, she says, is to honor the purity of that first flash. “You are lucky if you have the time from start to finish to complete the song and make the world go away. The fewer co-writers the better, including myself. If you open it up again in two weeks, or a year, you have different eyes… and that brings too many people and opinions into the room rather than one solid voice.”

Some of her most recent songs arrived in just such a spark – like during a violent rainstorm in Vermont. Alone in her cabin as thunder cracked over the mountains, Canty felt a song arrive like lightning. Hungry, shivering, and unable to leave, she turned to the page. “That’s when it is about honoring your craft and keeping your calluses hard,” she said. “Writing songs and tending to those fires.”

Much of the new album reflects Canty’s sense of place. After years of calling Nashville home, in Vermont the woods, weather, and solitude shape her work. Songs like “Electric Guitar” hum with what she calls “domestic noise” – the sound of home life creeping into the music. “Examining what home means is another strong thread in a lot of these songs,” she said. “There is a lot of domestic noise in ‘Electric Guitar’ of a life settled and tied to the home front.”

The landscape also plays a role. Birds, trees, and storms become metaphors for transformation and survival, grounding her reflections on motherhood and the passage of time.

Every songwriter brings along artists who came before them and for Canty, one such artist is Lucinda William and her landmark album, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. Canty first heard it in college while working as a server to make ends meet. Living in a big house with wide kitchen windows, she found herself singing along to those raw, unvarnished songs. “The sound, the songwriting, the singing – it all was a high-water mark for me,” Canty recalled. “It had the mystery of how something so simple could be so powerful. Why is this message of another person hitting my heart and staying embedded? How do I do that?”

Since Reckless Skyline, Canty has been described as gentle, quiet, restrained. But she resists those labels. “I don’t think that that is what this record is,” she said. “There might be fingerpicked and more solitary numbers, but a lot of the songs are more electric and grittier, and closer maybe to Reckless Skyline or Car Wheels in that regard.”

There’s grit beneath the quiet, steel beneath the lull. That mix – of softness and resolve – has become her artistic fingerprint. At the core of her music lies a devotion to truth.

“I could never act,” Canty admitted. “As a kid, I loved band and singing. Music is getting to truth and getting yourself out of the way of a song. If it’s the truth, then I feel comfortable singing it.”

That truth may be wrapped in storms or in stillness, in the clatter of home or in the electric hum of a live stage. But it is always there – steady, unpretentious, and deeply human.

With Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove, Caitlin Canty has crafted more than an album – it is a meditation on resilience, a love letter to songwriting itself, and a statement of intent. She is not chasing spotlights or trends, but tending her fires, shaping her craft, and writing songs that might someday be her lifelong friends.

“My real goal,” she repeats, “is to be writing more and better songs… to do right by the music.”

For Canty, that’s enough. And for those who listen, it is everything.


Photo Credit: Noah Altshuler

BGS 5+5: Sam Burchfield

Artist: Sam Burchfield
Hometown: Seneca, South Carolina (now Jasper, Georgia)
Latest Album: Nature Speaks (out October 24 on Cloverdale Records)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Sammy B. Rejected band name: Sam & The Samwiches.

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

Around the same time my older sister started playing electric bass, I saw O Brother, Where Art Thou? and I heard “Eruption” by Van Halen for the first time. These memories all felt very important to me wanting to start playing guitar. As soon as I started playing guitar there was no going back. It consumed my life in the best way. Started my first band in 7th grade and ever since I have been writing songs and putting out records. (Long live Kelly Sparks The Fuse, my experimental garage rock band from middle school.)

What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?

Becoming a parent. Ha!

But for real, it has so drastically changed who I am. It feels like I have finally unfolded from within myself. The past 3 years – we just had our second child six months ago – have shown the biggest overall life challenges as well as growth that I’ve yet to experience. My wife and I have been pushed in every way to dig deep and push forward. It’s beautiful, it’s painful, it’s meaningful. Creatively, it has really focused me and helped me to cut away some of the fluff.

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

Going off the last question, it has been so hard to keep pursuing being an artist as a “career” over the last decade. I think it has also made me really value the core reason that I’m doing all of this and putting myself and my family through so much chaos sometimes.

Ultimately, I want to inspire people to see the truth, beauty, and goodness of the world.

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

Without a doubt, but only when it’s next to that ham, babayyyyy!

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

Well my first dream job was professional Lego builder. So probably that.

Although, nowadays I really love a good home project. Currently building an addition on the house and there is nothing as satisfying as throwing up a freshly framed wall. So maybe a carpenter!


Photo Credit: Erin Burchfield