Music has and continues to be a form of healing for Fancy Hagood. The Arkansas-raised singer who takes his forename from the Drake song – not the Bobbie Gentry and Reba McEntire hit – first began writing songs as a queer junior high student struggling to fit in before dropping out of school at 17 to chase his newfound dreams in Nashville.
Despite growing up listening to everything from contemporary Christian music to The Chicks, Shania Twain, Tim McGraw, Destiny’s Child, and Missy Elliott, it was choir and theatre that brought Hagood’s own creative aspirations to life.
“I really found myself in those classes,” Hagood tells Good Country. “I was dealing with a lot of bullying at the time and writing music became one of the few ways I could truly express myself.”
But upon his arrival to Nashville, Hagood was told that a career as a queer country musician was unlikely. This was followed by a move to Los Angeles, coupled with a transition to pop, that led to him to opening for the likes of Meghan Trainor and Ariana Grande as he juggled a day job at Forever 21. Those opportunities coincided with a decrease in creative control over his own work, something he’s taken back for himself on 2021’s Southern Curiosity and his most recent project, American Spirit, which released October 25.
“I was hell-bent on this album not being a breakup record, but instead one about healing, moving forward, and finding yourself,” Hagood says of American Spirit. “I don’t want to be on the road singing songs about my ex, but I do want to sing about reclaiming your story, bouncing back, and that being the most powerful thing after experiencing something like that.”
Speaking on the phone from his Nashville home, Hagood detailed his ambitious Music City move, experiences with gatekeeping, his work with Apple Music, and more.
What was it like for you moving to Nashville so young? I imagine on one hand it’s quite empowering, but it can also be overwhelming too.
Fancy Hagood: On my song “Fly Away” I sing, “You were scared as hell to take the highway/ You barely knew how to drive…” and that’s the truth. I got my driver’s license when I was 16 and I never drove on the highway until I moved to Nashville, so it was very much a culture shock. I know a lot of people don’t view Nashville as a big city compared to New York or Los Angeles, but when you’re coming from small-town Arkansas it felt like the whole world had opened up for myself. There were parts of it that were really intimidating, but for the most part I had so much enthusiasm that you couldn’t really tell me anything. I had this idea that I was going to be a country superstar and you couldn’t tell me otherwise.
I know things haven’t always been easy for you though. You’ve dealt with some gatekeeping and other hurdles along the way. What’s that been like?
Before I moved to LA, I was getting all this attention in Nashville, selling out shows on my own. A lot was going on for not having any music out in the world yet. I quickly got a publishing deal, but instead of things taking off from there I started getting a bunch of people putting their own opinions on me and putting their own stuff into my music, thus limiting me because of their own fears. That was something I never had going into all of this – fear. It’s a complicated thing when you start mixing art and commerce. The powers that be recognize you have talent, but in figuring out how to make money from it they start thinking of Middle America and who’s going to buy it, leading to a fear game rather than just letting the artist be an artist.
When I moved to LA and got a record deal, that’s where other people’s fears began sinking into my own train of thought and my delusion began slipping away. I was accomplishing all these things, from performing on Dancing With the Stars to hitting the road with Ariana Grande, but on the inside I felt miserable. I realized I’d sacrificed so much of myself and my art to get to a place where other people found it comfortable for me to be successful, but a year and a half into it I just imploded and lost all the deals.
It wasn’t until moving back to Nashville in 2016 that I was able to shake all that off. In 2018 I signed a new publishing deal and began work on my album Southern Curiosity, a slow burn that didn’t release until 2021. It was a really difficult transition having [to go from] a Top 40 hit and everyone treating you like you’re the king of the castle to no hits, no deals, and nobody wants to touch you with a ten-foot pole. It was a humbling experience that taught me that the industry in place was not set up for someone like me to be successful. Because of that, my train of thought stopped being about how do I fit into the industry to thinking about how to create my own, which is exactly what I’ve been doing since Southern Curiosity.
One way you’ve been building that community you speak of is through your role as the host of Trailblazers Radio on Apple Music. What’s that gig meant to you?
I’ve never experienced a company that puts their money where their mouth is quite like Apple. They were supportive of me and my first record before hosting a radio show was even a thought. They first came to me after I guest-hosted on the late Leslie Jordan’s Apple Radio show, which I did three or four times with him. After that, they approached me with the Trailblazers idea and threw me into the deep end. When they offered it to me in 2021 I’d never done radio before and just recently we were picked up for our fourth season. My idea is to feature artists who don’t typically get those opportunities, allowing country music to be for everyone. If you look at our playlist you’ll see all kinds of artists on there, not just what country radio suggests Nashville is.
It’s also been meaningful getting to sit across from actual legends and people who have shattered the glass ceiling in country music. Each artist that’s come through our doors has taught me that not one artist’s journey is the same, which has done a lot for inspiring, motivating, and informing me as an artist.
Are there any particular moments or guests from the show that stand out?
I’d never met Jelly Roll before he came in for his interview and his heart just blew me away. Who he is at his core is so full of joy and his philanthropic side was really inspiring to me. He had just sold out Bridgestone Arena and donated all the money to an organization that helps incarcerated youth. Even when we weren’t recording he was wanting to know more about me, my art, and what I do. He’s just a stand-up person.
A moment ago you mentioned Leslie Jordan, whose loss you touch on (along with your grandmother’s) on the song “Good Grief.” I guess that goes back to songwriting being a method of healing?
Yeah, it came about during a writing session with my friend Jeremy Lutito on a particularly solemn day. We were both in sad moods, but in typical fashion when two guys are alone in a room the last thing they’ll do is ask, “What’s on your heart?” We got to talking about a situation with his family where their dog had passed away the night before, which led to a conversation about grief and having to walk his kids through it for the first time. As he was telling me this I just fell apart thinking of how grief is such a hard thing to come to terms with and reckon with, but sometimes it’s ultimately a good thing. We’d been struggling all day, but that song came about in only an hour or so. It was pure magic.
I’ve seen you refer to this album as a “breakup record,” and I feel like one song that really captures that essence is the title track, “American Spirit.” How’d it come about?
I wrote that with Gina Venier and Summer Overstreet. It started with this idea of cigarette season or a time in your life where you’re smoking and stressed. But with Gina, who’s also a queer artist, it evolved into a song about becoming someone else’s vice. It’s not an unheard-of story in the South, people not being able to fully speak to who they are or how they feel – there’s a lot of closet cases among us. I’ve dealt with that a lot in my time in Nashville and I know others have, too. The song is mostly a nod to those experiences and being an openly queer person dealing with others who aren’t open but are addicted to your openness and freedom and not being able to let that go.
What has music taught you about yourself?
It’s taught me that I’m resilient and can get through anything along with the power of believing in yourself. I’ve gone through a lot in this industry, but I keep coming back. This is what I love and I’m never going to stop.
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Carolyn Kendrick is known among folk and roots fans as a fiddler with legitimate trad bona fides and as a singer-songwriter prone to introspective, observational songwriting. In the podcast zone she has carved a place as producer, researcher, and composer for several shows, including the award-winning You’re Wrong About podcast hosted by Sarah Marshall and Michael Hobbes.
In fact, it was while Kendrick was researching the “Satanic Panic” of the 1980s for an episode of You’re Wrong About that she became obsessed with cultural panics in general. That obsession ultimately led to her haunting new album, Each Machine, which released December 6 on Occulture Records.
Last month, from her home in Los Angeles, Kendrick explained the album’s genesis.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about lineage and tradition lately,” she says. “… I’ve been thinking of all of these songs that have these deep traditional roots, that I’ve been listening to and learning and singing around campfires with, you know, friends at bluegrass festivals and folk festivals for years and years and years.”
The songs that were standing out to her all carried some darkness, a little shadow of the devil. She started wondering what might happen if she decided to reinterpret some of them in a way that asserted her personal instincts. “That includes things like more electric instrumentation, more sound design, more world building,” she says. “Not for it to sound inflated, but what if it was part of a more extended concept rather than just, you know, individual songs?”
To explore these curiosities, she enlisted the collaboration of her friend, multi-instrumentalist, and fellow Berklee grad Isa Burke (Aoife O’Donovan, Mountain Goats) to help her flesh out the sonic landscapes that are sure to envelop Each Machine’s listeners in a creepy, devilish fog.
Indeed, the album’s swallowing darkness even pervades on deceptively welcoming songs like “Sumer (Sing Cuckoo)” –sung here in the traditional round, a cappella except for some decidedly spooky timpani wallops. As a result, and in the context of so many songs about the devil, the duo’s approach feels particularly untouchable, like the story of a photograph of a memory of lighter times.
Then again, Kendrick felt compelled to include it amid her exploration of panic. As if to say: Perhaps the light is gone for now, but the nature of summer is that it returns.
To that end, she notes: “It was really, really fun to be able to take these older songs that have such a rich lineage and reinterpret them with the lens of … the issues that we’re going through as a people right now.”
This side of the 2024 election, most topical interpretations are probably incidental – she wrote the album long before votes were cast. But, while Each Machine implies a general warning about what happens when humans become wrapped up in an historical moment, it also becomes specific, for at least one track, on the topic of women’s health.
Track nine is a spoken-word piece Kendrick has titled “Sugar and Spice.” For fifty-five seconds, the listener is treated to a collection of recordings about what it is to be a woman in America. From the nursery school rhyme from which the track gets its name to a news report about the overturning of Roe v. Wade, the track ends with a distant crowd of protestors chanting about abortion. This is followed by the artist’s take on the trad song “Wind and Rain,” about a pair of sisters competing for a man’s attention: In pursuit of her prize, the one shoves the other into a river to drown.
Kendrick isn’t wasting anyone’s time being subtle about her views here. Then again, where’s the room for subtlety amidst panic?
As The New York Times reported in 1994, the Satanic Panic encompassed “12,000 accusations of group cult sexual abuse based on satanic ritual.” The same Times article clarified that none of these events seem to have actually occurred, but the fear they provoked in the public was definitely real. As a folk singer drawn to moments of cultural import, digging into the Satanic Panic caused Kendrick to consider the way these “panics” might be connected.
That she tied in songs about the devil; ruminations on a view of Earth from space; what womanhood requires of us; and even the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke means this is not an album meant to be background music. To be sure, the musicianship and arrangements are lovely, but the spoken word bits are necessarily jarring.
Over and over, the disc interrupts itself with interludes that pull one’s attention back – from feeling to meaning – before moving into another song. This tennis match between the heart and the head reaches its apex about halfway in, when Kendrick pivots between two separate recordings, “Are You Washed” and “In the Blood.” Between them sits a spoken word piece (the title track) which feels intimidating and disorienting.
Her decision to include two interpretations of the one song was inspired by Naomi Klein’s Doppleganger. That book, Kendrick explains, “really changed how I’m thinking about how we receive information.”
“As Americans,” she adds, “our media diets are so different and atomized from one another. And there’s also this confusion within the conspiracy landscape that we live in right now. … How can we be receiving the same information and interpreting it so differently? … [So that song is] an experiment. How do I approach one thing and look at it from all different angles? And how will that make me feel differently?”
Indeed, Each Machine is clearly trying to get through a whole lot of questions. And in just eight songs, it somehow achieves its goal. In addition to the questions already mentioned, there’s the Satanic Panic of it all. What, then, does fear – of the devil, of freedom, of technology, of one another – teach us?
As she sends Each Machine out into the world, Kendrick is clear that the lesson she learned is that she’s grateful to have a creative outlet to help her find light in darkness.
“I had been going through all of this really difficult subject matter,” she says. “… I had so many feelings of distress and worry – and also of hope. [I was in] this flurry of all the big emotions that we go through [when] we’re dealing with reality. I needed a place to put all of my feelings about moral panics, I guess.”
Our last premiere roundup before the holidays – and therefore, our last of the year! – is full of country, folk, new acoustic, and more. Here are the songs and videos you gotta hear.
In the country camp, check out “Don’t You Dare” by singer-songwriter Ben Chapman from his upcoming Anderson East-produced project, Downbeat, which releases today. Plus, Joel Timmons (of Sol Driven Train, Maya de Vitry, and more) brings a heaping helping of his Psychedelic Surf Country with a fun, true-to-life track, “Guitars, Guns, and Pickup Trucks” that features fiddle by the award-winning bluegrass ringer Jason Carter.
A. Lee Edwards continues in a country vein with “Moving Up to the Mountains,” inspired by his and his wife’s own journey moving from Charlotte, North Carolina, up into Nantahala National Forest. And, Ramona and the Holy Smokes debut a brand new video for “Til It’s Over,” a redemptive song with a music video inspired by the stories of Vivian Cash and Johnny Cash.
Folk legend John McCutcheon is included below, as well, with a new song “Here” written at the vital Highlander Center in East Tennessee that’s all about being present in the moment. Meanwhile, new acoustic, bluegrass-meets-classical duo Scroggins & Rose premiere their out-of-this-world single, “Space Samba,” from their upcoming January release, Speranza.
It’s all right here on BGS and You Gotta Hear This! Happy holidays and we’ll be back with plenty more new music in 2025.
Ben Chapman, “Don’t You Dare”
Artist: Ben Chapman Hometown: Lafayette, Georgia Song: “Don’t You Dare” Album:Downbeat Release Date: December 13, 2024 Label: Hippie Shack
In Their Words: “It’s a simple but rough-edged love song about two lovers sitting on their back porch, thinking of how good they have it and how they’ll never know a love stronger than what they have at the moment. It’s a song for that once-in-a-lifetime, growing old together while sitting in rocking chairs type of love, true love. I wrote this song with my long-time cowriter and girlfriend, Meg McRee. It was one of those songs that just found us. We didn’t even have to go looking. The whole thing took us about 20 minutes to write, and we both knew it was such a special song. Most of the time, the best songs come to you when you least expect it, and in this case, it couldn’t be truer.” – Ben Chapman
Track Credits: Gregg Garner – Bass Darren Dodd – Drums & percussion Anderson East – Electric guitar, mellotron, organ Ben Chapman – Acoustic guitar & vocals Meg McRee – Backing vocals
A. Lee Edwards, “Move Up to the Mountains”
Artist:A. Lee Edwards Hometown: Franklin, North Carolina Song: “Move Up to the Mountains” Album: Interpreting Heart Sounds, Vol.I Release Date: December 13, 2024 (single); February 28, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Move Up to the Mountains’ in the late ’90s after moving from the Virginia mountains to Charlotte. The song came out of feeling stuck in the grind of city life and wanting to escape to the peace and simplicity of the mountains. Inspired by the Bob Dylan line, ‘He not busy being born is busy dying,’ it’s about longing for something different. In 2017, after 22 years in Charlotte, my wife and I made that move to the Nantahala National Forest. The song reflects that desire to leave the chaos behind and find a quieter, more meaningful way of life.” – A. Lee Edwards
Track Credits: A. Lee Edwards – Acoustic guitar, electric guitar, lead vocal Matt Royal – Electric bass, backing vocal Amanda Neill – Electric piano, backing vocal Tom Mayo – Drums Matthew Smith – Pedal steel
John McCutcheon, “Here”
Artist:John McCutcheon Hometown: Smoke Rise, Georgia Song: “Here” Album:Field Of Stars Release Date: December 13, 2024 (single); January 10, 2025 (album) Label: Appalseed
In Their Words: “I well remember writing ‘Here.’ I was conducting one of my Songwriting Camps at the Highlander Center in East Tennessee. I knew the protagonist in the song well. I had seen him in a lot of my friends and, even occasionally, in myself. Mostly, in those times when creativity and drive give way to a kind of ambition that causes you to lose perspective and purpose. I wanted to start with simple, childhood dreams: that special sandwich, summer vacation. By the time he’s at the altar, he’s sure his dreams have come true, only to realize that he’s still unsatisfied and anxious… failing to simply be present. The pandemic really focused my meditation practice and led me to this song, I guess.
“Interestingly, this was the last song to make the ‘cut’ for the album. And here it is as the opening track. I owe it entirely to my stellar band of brothers (JT Brown, Jon Carroll, Pete Kennedy, ‘Jos’ Jospé, and Stuart Duncan) who’ve become my studio band. I purposely send them bare-bones demos and we jointly create the arrangements live in the studio. They gave this song whatever spark it needed to open this collection.” – John McCutcheon
Track Credits: John McCutcheon – Vocal, guitar Jon Carroll – Harmony vocals, piano, organ JT Brown – Harmony vocals, bass Pete Kennedy – Electric guitar Robert “Jos” Jospe – Drums Stuart Duncan – Fiddle
Ramona and the Holy Smokes, “Til It’s Over”
Artist:Ramona and the Holy Smokes Hometown: Charlottesville, Virginia Song: “Til It’s Over” Album:Til It’s Over (EP) Release Date: November 22, 2024
In Their Words: “‘Til It’s Over’ is a song about knowing a relationship is doomed but not being ready to let go. I wrote this song after I had a terrible fight with someone I was dating at the time. I saw all the red flags and basically chose to keep going until the relationship self-destructed rather than being brave and ending it as soon as I knew it wasn’t right for me. I have done this more than I would like to admit, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.
“The music video was inspired by the life of Vivian Cash, Johnny Cash’s first wife. I really feel history has done her dirty, most notably by her portrayal in the 2005 film, Walk the Line. I tried to honor her in a number of ways in the video with nods to her Catholicism, her amazing fashion sense, and her strength while her family was falling apart. ‘Til It’s Over,’ couched in the context of her life, becomes a much sadder song. Divorce was against her religious beliefs and even though she was basically abandoned, she loved Johnny Cash until she died. In our video, she reclaims her agency by picking up a guitar and writing her own song, but this is our way of wrapping up our version of the story with a redemptive moment.
“This video was directed by the incredible Elizabeth Culbertson, who also directed Marley Hale’s ‘Dear Girl’ music video. We worked together on creating the visual differences between the two time periods in the video (the 1950s and 1960s), with Elizabeth focusing on light and color, while I focused on hair, makeup & wardrobe. Our concept was incredibly ambitious, and Elizabeth’s cinematography elevates the work from run-of-the-mill music video to full-on cinema. ‘Til It’s Over’ also stars fellow musician Red McAdam as country singer ‘Red McAdams,’ who knocks his first dramatic performance out of the park. Neither Red nor I had ever acted on camera before, and I think we both showed up with our A-game and convincingly captured love gone wrong.” – Ramona Martinez
Scroggins & Rose, “Space Samba”
Artist:Scroggins & Rose Hometown: San Francisco, California Song: “Space Samba” Album:Speranza Release Date: January 10, 2025 Label: Adhyâropa Records
In Their Words: “‘Space Samba’ began, like many of our pieces, as a fragment recorded in our voice memos. From there, it grew into one of the most playful compositions on Speranza. We took the syncopated rhythm and expanded it into a dancing melody and contrasted it with a spacious, flowing second theme that we thought evoked the image of astronauts floating at a Hawaiian-themed party in space – hence the name. This whimsical retro-futurist imagery guided us as we worked to intertwine the different rhythms and the melodies together into a cohesive piece. By experimenting with standalone patterns and interlocking parts, we developed a tune that combines the energy of a cosmic dance party with moments of suspense. The result captures not only the joy of movement but also the quiet, frozen beauty of space, the urgency of space shuttle alarms, and – of course – more dancing.” – Scroggins & Rose
Joel Timmons, “Guitars, Guns, and Pickup Trucks” (Featuring Jason Carter)
Artist:Joel Timmons Hometown: Charleston, South Carolina Song: “Guitars, Guns, and Pickup Trucks” (featuring Jason Carter) Album:Psychedelic Surf Country Release Date: December 13, 2024 (single); February 7, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “Before I met my future father-in-law, I was warned by my girlfriend, Shelby Means, about ‘the list.’ It was my first visit out to Wyoming to meet her parents and she told me he would pepper me with a series of questions to gauge my suitability. On the truck ride out to their property from the airport he began the inquisition, marking my responses with his finger on an imaginary scoreboard. Over the years, I’ve learned that this tough-guy routine and good-natured teasing was a sign of endearment and sort of a cowboy love language, but at the time I was intimidated. Mr. Means has a favorite expression: ‘A man can never have too many guitars, guns, or pickup trucks.’ That felt like a country song that needed to be written. In a nation that feels so politically and culturally polarized, I hope this song encourages the listener to look for common ground with the other side. Jason Carter’s brilliant fiddle and rich baritone vocals give the recording some real country swagger.” – Joel Timmons
Track Credits: Joel Timmons – Vocals, harmony vocals, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, mouth harp Jason Carter – Harmony vocals, fiddle Shelby Means – Harmony vocals, background vocals Brett Resnick – Pedal steel De Marco Johnson – Organ Ethan Jodziewicz – Electric bass Mark Raudabugh – Drums, percussion
Photo Credit: John McCutcheon by Irene Young; Scroggins & Rose by Lenny Gonzalez.
It’s 2024 recap time on Basic Folk! Cindy & Lizzie dive into a most special year-end reflection, featuring highlights from our honest conversations with folk musicians. We revisit the top episode of the year, Anna Tivel & Jeffrey Martin’s insightful discussion on navigating artistic challenges and living a simple life. Cindy shares her favorite episode featuring her co-host Lizzie No talking about her career-defining album, Halfsies (our 250th episode!). In turn, Lizzie’s favorite honest convo came from Leyla McCalla onboard the Cayamo cruise. We sat in the ship lounge and dug in with Leyla about the “folk process” and her thoughts on cruising, as a Haitian-American, as we ported in Hispaniola aboard a luxury cruise line. (Spoiler: it is complex!)
Basic Folk also checks in with friend Jontavious Willis about his biggest lesson of 2024 and what defining success as an independent artist looks like as he has just released his latest, West Georgia Blues. We also welcome Rose Cousins’ heartfelt words on embracing change as she prepares to release her next record, Conditions of Love – Vol. 1 (out March 14, 2025). As the episode ends, Lizzie leaves us with some words of wisdom:
“We are at a time of year where your body wants to be doing less. We’ve just survived a chaos clown show of violence in the election. Our culture is shifting rapidly. It’s okay if the things that used to work for you don’t work anymore. You’re allowed to start over. You’re allowed to try new things. You’re allowed to tell people in your life, ‘I’ve changed.’ You’re allowed to listen to new artists. You’re allowed to change how you dress. You can do it all. 2025 is a new year and you have freedom. And that’s my blessing to you.” – Lizzie No
Photo Credit: Lizzie No by Cole Nielsen; Rose Cousins by Lindsay Duncan; Leyla McCalla by Chris Scheurich; Jontavious Willis courtesy of the artist; Anna Tivel by Cody Onthank; Jeffrey Martin courtesy of the artist.
Each year, when we begin the process of curating our year-end round-ups with our BGS and Good Country contributors, our prompt is never about superlatives or true “best of year” selections. We don’t strive to craft these lists based on “shoulds” – what record should be considered the best of the year? What should a list of the best bluegrass, old-time, Americana, and folk music include?
We perhaps couldn’t be less interested in such a list. Are they entertaining to read? Oh, yes. There’s almost no better year-end pastime than quickly scrolling through a “best of” list to find if you agree or disagree, or if your favorite album is included, or if your obvious choice is another’s glaring omission. But the beauty of music – especially these more traditional and folkway-adjacent forms – isn’t objectivity; it’s the intricately personal, particular, and subjective that’s hardest to capture.
Still, each year, as fall transitions to winter, we try our best to capture just that. In 2024, we tasked our BGS contributors with collecting their most favorite, most impactful, most resonant, and most persistent albums, songs, and performances. A quick Google search will reveal dozens of collections of the “most important” music of the year, but rather than wading into that very crowded space we hope our BGS Class of 2024 reflects the most ethereal, intangible, and fantastic music we encountered this year.
As such, our Class of 2024 has ended up with a lovely variety of albums and songs spanning the entire, expansive American roots music scene. You’ll hear picks like troubadours Willi Carlisle and Amythyst Kiah, there are straight-ahead grassers like Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, AJ Lee & Blue Summit, and Brenna MacMillan, and we’ve got buzzworthy acts like MJ Lenderman and Katie Gavin represented here, too. It’s not all bluegrass – it’s not any one thing, really! – but we hope you’ll find plenty to love and, hopefully, much exemplary roots music you might not have found anywhere else.
Scroll to find a playlist version of our BGS Class of 2024 below, plus stay tuned for more year-end collections coming your way, including our favorite musical moments, 2024 Good Country, our music book picks for the year, and more. – Justin Hiltner, editor, BGS and Good Country
Willi Carlisle, Critterland
I didn’t catch on to Willi Carlisle until this year, which might be because he’s only just beginning to garner more broad commercial success – or, if I’m being honest, it could be because I mistakenly assumed he was just another white guy with an acoustic guitar and a microphone. But I was wrong.
Carlisle is a rare storyteller, a poet, an openly queer man from the South, and one of the most meticulous folk songwriters releasing music right now. This year, he dropped his third full-length album, Critterland, underlining his status as all of the above and proving he can masterfully weave old-time, country, folk, and honky-tonk influences into a cohesive style all his own. Whether he’s singing about spiritual existentialism, rural queer experiences, or his many meandering journeys across the U.S., Carlisle’s lyricism is captivating, rich, and alive. If you haven’t already listened to Critterland, don’t let the year roll over without doing it. – Dana Yewbank
Jake Xerxes Fussell, When I Am Called
Jake Xerxes Fussell’s version of the work song “Gone to Hilo” on his 2024 album, When I Am Called, is gorgeous. It reveals part of how he revitalizes and contextualizes new folk songs. Fussell is a man of great learning, but he wears it loosely and with pleasure. “Hilo,” the song, has a number of versions – some are about Hawaii and some are about Peru (a town called Ihru). Some are about a sailor named Tommy, others are about someone named Johnny. Usually it’s Johnny in Hawaii and Tommy in Peru; Elijah Wald’s 2024 book about Muddy Waters suggests that it might not be Hilo or Ihru, but “the Hollow,” and could originate from the vernacular of enslaved people.
Fussell, playing live in Toronto, didn’t interpolate the Hollow, but in a perfect three minutes, traded lines and verses, sometimes about one place, sometimes about the other, in a delicate blending of received wisdom. The smartest and most moving moment highlighting what it means to make music that I heard this year. – Steacy Easton
Katie Gavin, What A Relief
For years now I’ve been making an incredibly silly joke about how “MUNA are my favorite bluegrass band.” With her first solo album, the group’s lead singer and central songwriter, Katie Gavin, brings their resplendent and queer musical universe decidedly into our roots music realms. Producer Tony Berg (Nickel Creek, Molly Tuttle, Amythyst Kiah, Andrew Bird) in the control room and Sara & Sean Watkins as session players are just two of the inputs that make What A Relief delightfully folky, fiddley, and string band-infused. MUNA’s acoustic set at the iconic Newport Folk Festival this summer – and Gavin’s totally solo, side stage Newport performance of much of this material – further solidified the dancey, club-ready group as a true folk ensemble.
At first it was a joke, but I don’t think it’s a joke anymore! Like all of Gavin’s work, these songs are both fun and gutting, poignant while light and convivial. What A Relief is a standout for 2024. – Justin Hiltner
Liv Greene, Deep Feeler
Liv Greene is a huge cry baby – and a liar. She even comes right out and admits it on the first line of her new album Deep Feeler:
“I’m aware I’m a liar. Always lying to myself about my expectations/ I’m aware I’m a crier, and I know. All this crying doesn’t help the situation…”
Greene, who is the Deep Feeler in question, has grown tremendously on her sophomore album. She’s become one of the most promising young artists to create songs that tap right into the center of your heart. This is enormously true on her 2024 album through songs like “Wild Geese,” “Flowers,” and “Made it Mine Too.” She attributes that growth to honestly writing about being queer for the first time. Deep Feeler crawls in and stays with you. Who knew honesty could feel this good? – Cindy Howes
Brittany Haas & Lena Jonsson, The Snake
On their second duo album of fiddle tunes (their first, self-titled collab dropped in 2015), Brittany Haas of Nashville and Lena Jonsson of Stockholm went even deeper into what’s possible in the blending of their native countries’ fiddle traditions. This time, they leaned far more on the Swedish end of the collaboration, emphasizing harmony over chord progressions, exploring the possibilities inherent in “second voice” dueting. They also tried their hand at writing a suite in the style of J.S. Bach – no small feat. The result is an utter delight for music geeks and casual fans alike, as folks can appreciate the languid lines and danceable moments they weave together throughout. – Kim Ruehl
Humbird, Right On
I remember where I was the first time I heard Siri Undlin sing, “There is an old barn on a ghost farm / Hollowed out and filled with stars…” the opening couplet of Humbird’s take-no-prisoners roots rocker “Cornfields and Roadkill.” I will reluctantly admit to some initial resentment that a songwriter who wasn’t me had written a song of such poetic efficiency and political potency. Undlin’s songwriting shines throughout the nine tracks of 2024’s Right On: the quiet earnestness of “Quickest Way” would have been at home on an early Kacey Musgraves album, and “Song for the Seeds” lays out both practical and spiritual methods for liberation, Farmer’s Almanac-style. But the palpable chemistry between musicians playing in a room together is the star of the show here. Humbird is an essential band to listen to as we watch the American empire crumble in real time. – Lizzie No
Katelyn Ingardia, “Silence”
This year, Katelyn Ingardia’s “Silence” got me feeling some type of way. I don’t know what they injected into this song, but I’m quite literally addicted to it. Bad day? I’m playing “Silence.” In a long line for coffee? I’m playing “Silence.” Cooking up girl dinner? I’m playing “Silence.” I scream a little on the inside every time I hear the fiddle kickoff.
The timbre of the song is so nostalgic of an early Union Station or Sierra Hull record, but Ingardia’s performance sets herself apart as something completely fresh and original. The writing, delivery, and production are all impeccable and her voice is like honey. And if all that wasn’t enough for ya, Ingardia just dropped her debut record, entitled Getaway. Some of my favorite tracks are “Lost Love” and “Talk to Me.” Y’all keep an eye on this gal as she continues to blossom into her career so we can all say we were here at the beginning. – Bluegrass Barbie
Cris Jacobs, One of These Days
Within the rock and jam realms, the name Cris Jacobs has been well-regarded and sought-out for many years, especially with his early project The Bridge, a vastly popular Baltimore-based rock ‘n’ soul ensemble up and down the Eastern Seaboard in the early 2000s, only to disband in 2011.
But, for the guitar wizard himself, it was Jacobs’ 2024 release, One of These Days, that really catapulted him into the national scene, especially in the Americana, bluegrass, and folk arenas. Produced by Jerry Douglas and featuring the Infamous Stringdusters as its backing band, the album includes appearances by Billy Strings, Lee Ann Womack, Sam Bush, and Lindsay Lou. At its core, One of These Days circles back to Jacobs’ early bluegrass, folk, and blues influences. But, more so, the record finally tells the rest of the world what a lot of us have already known for some time now – Cris Jacobs is one hell of a talented singer, songwriter, and musician. – Garret K. Woodward
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, I Built A World
The longtime fiddler for Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway shows off captivating songwriting alongside her impeccable playing skills and impressive vocals on I Built A World, her first album in nearly four years. Featuring the likes of Tuttle, Sam Bush, Dierks Bentley, Brit Taylor, and her husband Jason Carter, the 11-song adventure from Keith-Hynes – up for Best Bluegrass Album at the 67th Annual GRAMMYs – follows her journey from being homeschooled to making a living as an independent musician on her own terms.
Standouts range from the frenetic, longing “Will You Ever Be Mine” to the waltz-like, Dobro-heavy “The Last Whippoorwill,” proving that Keith-Hynes is poised to be a power player in bluegrass and country music for years to come. – Matt Wickstrom
Amythyst Kiah, Still + Bright
The sparkling singer-songwriter Amythyst Kiah sought a different direction this year for her third solo LP. She’d previously shown her ability to deliver emotionally powerful, socially relevant, and poignant material. But she wanted her music to reflect other aspects of her personality in her latest work, both her warm and humorous side, plus her interest in Eastern philosophy and spirituality. All these things are nicely balanced in Still + Bright, with Butch Walker’s production touches incorporating unexpected musical contributions like nifty pedal steel licks or fuzztone guitar riffs, plus Kiah’s own supportive and inspired banjo colorations and edgy lead vocals.
It was a tour de force that was even more impressive in live performance, and Kiah got rave reviews throughout her tour that included highly appreciative responses from the crowds who saw her performances during Americanafest in Nashville. In addition, Kiah’s been part of Our Native Daughters (an all-women-of-color supergroup also featuring Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell). She extended her collaborative outreach on Still + Bright, working with such co-writers and features as punk legend Tim Armstrong, Sadler Vaden (a guitarist-vocalist for Jason Isbell’s 400 Unit), former Pentatonix member Avi Kaplan, and Sean McConnell (a singer-songwriter who’s also written with Brittney Spencer and Bethany Cosentino). All this reveals a dynamic artist willing to continue exploring new areas, while making some of the year’s most intriguing and exciting music. – Ron Wynn
AJ Lee & Blue Summit, City of Glass
In case you have any doubts about the absolute magnitude of AJ Lee & Blue Summit, I will personally fund your one-way ticket to this transparent metropolis. City of Glass presents precisely what its title suggests – an entire ecosphere generated from its contents. The 12 tracks on this album cultivate a moving array of sensibilities, from tender love ballads to humorous narratives to honeyed poetics to grade-A yodeling. Brimming with multi-hyphenate talents, AJ Lee, Sullivan Tuttle, and Scott Gates all contribute lead vocals and songwriting credits to the compilation. Jan Purat’s fiddling serves as a raconteur, always perfectly delivering each narrative. Tuttle’s sister, Molly, even makes the trip from her City of Gold to join in for a tune. All in all, this album is a wondrous sonic journey that anyone would be remiss not to make! – Oriana Mack
MJ Lenderman, Manning Fireworks
From Hurricane Helene-ravaged Asheville, North Carolina, singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman has always been more than solid in the field of twangy indie-rock. Nevertheless, he took a quantum leap forward this year with the spectacular Manning Fireworks album, especially the song that falls in the exact middle of the track list. “She’s Leaving You” is the heart of Manning Fireworks, with verses that sketch out a tawdry Las Vegas hookup. But the part that resonates is the chorus, sung by Lenderman in a raw voice that falls somewhere between deadpan and shellshocked: “It falls apart, we all got work to do/ It gets dark, we all got work to do…” Lenderman repeats the line a half-dozen times and you would, too. If ever a chorus summed up the exhausted anguish of a moment in time, it’s this one. – David Menconi
Brenna MacMillan, Dear Life
Bluegrass, as an industry, operates about a decade behind the curve. As such, it feels more than remarkable when you find a straight-ahead bluegrass artist who’s not only on the cutting edge, but may be the actual blade. Brenna MacMillan’s debut solo album, Dear Life, displays all of the ways this picker, songwriter, singer, content creator, and online personality is pushing the trad envelope and establishing new models for success in the genre. Bluegrass has always felt like a direct-to-consumer business, but never with this level of intention – or with such ease on new media and social media.
Dear Life is a gorgeous collection, filled with MacMillan’s Nashville community and several legends, too – like Ronnie McCoury, Peter Rowan, and Sarah Jarosz. It’s down-the-middle bluegrass, but it’s entirely fresh and unique, with engaging songwriting and often surprising contours and melodies. There are many exciting things about MacMillan’s artistry, but the music is the most entrancing of all. – Justin Hiltner
Andrew Marlin, Phthalo Blue
This quietly-released full-length instrumental album from Watchhouse’s Andrew Marlin was far and away the record I found myself returning to over and over again in 2024.
The name Phthalo Blue refers to the family of blue and green pigments most often used in painting (I had to look this up). At first I wondered why Andrew might choose a title so obscure and hard to pronounce, but the more time I spent digging into both the music and the color family, the more they took me to the same calming, centered place.
I have loved all of Andrew’s non-Watchhouse endeavors over the last few years – from his multiple 2021 releases to Mighty Poplar to his recent release, Wild Rose of Morning with Jordan Tice and Christian Sedelmyer. Hopefully he continues to deliver more of this prolific, purely creative output, seemingly unfettered by commercial expectations; simultaneously reverential to the instrumental traditions it pulls from and inherently perfect for our modern age. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs
Middle Sattre, Tendencies
Middle Sattre are part of a movement of queer artists brewing down in Austin. Their brand of indie folk is as devastating as it is finely crafted. Tendencies is a painful autobiographical work, presenting vignettes of growing up queer and Mormon. The collective navigate these stories with care and delicate musicianship, building a portrait of sorrow – and a determination to survive. This kind of documentation, of people who stay true to themselves no matter the cost, are essential now more than ever. There is a deep and serious artistry in Tendencies, haunting, beautiful, and impossible to forget. – Rachel Cholst
Aoife O’Donovan, All My Friends
It was difficult to imagine what would follow Aoife O’Donovan’s Age of Apathy, her reflection on living through the pandemic. However, with All My Friends, O’Donovan shows how well her creativity and artistic style can thrive in new musical and lyrical territory. I love how this album includes guest artist, orchestral, and choral collaboration, making the music itself feel as grand and complex as the album’s themes: the women’s suffrage movement and one of its leading figures, Carrie Chapman Catt. O’Donovan’s wordplay is as sharp as ever and she doesn’t shy away from historical details or present-day truths, whether celebratory or sobering. The production and arrangements do everything possible to complement and enhance the impact of the songs, even if that means turning everything down to let the implications of O’Donovan’s words sink in. Be prepared to feel so much, but then want to start it all over again. – Kira Grunenberg
Katie Pruitt, Mantras
Katie Pruitt possesses a voice for the ages. In 2020, the powerhouse made an incredible splash with her debut album, Expectations, a raw and cosmic set that drowned out all others. Her songwriting pen proved to be as potent and razor-sharp as her vocal cords. Four years later, Pruitt still defines the soul-crushing Americana genre on her own terms. With Mantras, she expands her musical sensibilities and stretches her creative muscles in impressive ways. Such moments as “Jealous of the Boys” and “Blood Related” serve as needle-prick moments of sheer vulnerability, woven together with her signature mountain-rattling peaks (“All My Friends”). Pruitt pieces together a tattered photo book, one that gives a glimpse into her very soul. – Bee Delores
Photo Credit: Amythyst Kiah by Photography by Kevin & King; Katie Gavin by Alexa Viscius; Bronwyn Keith-Hynes by Alexa King Stone.
In her dynamic, restless career, Becca Stevens plans to never repeat herself, like the proverbial waterway that’s never the same river twice.
Since being noticed by New York Times jazz critic Nate Chinen in 2008 as a 24-year-old “best kept secret,” she’s collaborated with: David Crosby and his Lighthouse Band; jazz orchestra Snarky Puppy; the modernist ensemble Kneebody; pianist Brad Mehldau; harmony genius Jacob Collier; the neo-classical Attacca Quartet; and others. Her five solo studio albums, especially the mind-stretching and richly grooving Regina (2018) and Wonderbloom (2022), have mingled folk-grounded melodies and jazz-deep harmonies with pop dazzle. The common denominator has been her uncommon voice, which is conservatory-trained, but utterly unique and enthralling. She is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest overall musicians making song-based music today, a peer to 21st century savants St. Vincent and Madison Cunningham.
One frontier that remained for Stevens was, ironically, the most obvious for a singer-songwriter – the solo acoustic album. Her version of this venerable format finally arrived in late August with Maple to Paper, a 13-song collection that was shaped at every level by a series of landmark life events. After marrying Nathan Schram, violist in the Attacca Quartet, she gave birth to daughters in 2022 and 2024. Their family moved from New York to Princeton, New Jersey. Her mother died, as did her close collaborator and friend David Crosby.
Stevens alchemizes this season of change, love, and loss through songs that challenge conventional forms with rich and fearless lyrics that play at times like Emily Dickinson set to classical guitar. On the cover, she’s demurely naked behind a guitar. In the grooves, she’s as vulnerable as we’ve ever heard her. As she told me of her emotional multiverse of the past few years, “I felt uncomfortable about sharing it, but I also was like, well, if I’m going to do this, I might as well make it completely exposed.”
It’s easy to suppose that the changes of the past few years – moving, having children, losing your mom – made a solo acoustic record sound more appealing at both artistic and practical levels?
Becca Stevens: Absolutely, yeah. You’re spot on. Two things can be true. So the choice to do this album completely solo and from home both served the concept and integrity of the album. But it also was maybe the only way that I could have gotten it done during that time.
Just to put that into perspective, you know, there was the logistics of the grieving. The loss of my mom was super fresh, and I had a six-month-old who was part-time in daycare. And then towards the end of the recording and writing process, I was pregnant again. So there was the logistics of being a new mom, of having morning sickness, of being in a new place, of grieving my mom, and all of that was so much more possible to do from home. But I resisted it.
For a long time, I had the idea of recording the demos at home and then going into the studio. But I went back and forth a lot with Nic Hard, who mixed it with me. He also did Wonderbloom. And the deeper that we got into the material, the more crystal clear it was that the songs were best served if performed live – guitar and singing at the same time – and performed at home, where I was really in the character and in the feelings.
Did writing and making art feel like what you wanted to do under all those cross-cutting pressures and changes, or did you have to force yourself a bit through the work?
“Want” is maybe the wrong word. I felt like, at least for the grieving part, I had to do it because it was like I was going to explode if I didn’t do something. And it was a confusing loss – something that left me with a lot of questions. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been somebody who processes confusing emotions through writing songs or stories, or art in some way.
I felt like I needed to do it. But also, yes, there were times where I just absolutely did not want to and just wanted to lie on the floor. And I had to find a way to incorporate that as part of the process, so that I could forgive myself. I literally had a futon on the floor of my workspace, where I told that part of my brain, “You are invited to lay down there whenever you need to. You’re not at a studio. The clock’s not ticking. You’re not paying for this.” I called it my Womb Room. And I would put on salt lamps and put the lights down really low and lay down. And then some of the songs came from that space.
Some of these feel more like classical art songs than folk songs, in that they’re not shaped around a set number of measures or predictable beats. Did they feel a bit like that to you?
Yeah, the song “Payin’ to be Apart” comes to mind. It definitely felt that way; a little less folky, more like poetry that just happens to be on a wave of music. It’s interesting to hear you say that, because in the writing process – harmonically and in the accompaniment – I took a much simpler approach than what I have done before, on Regina or Wonderbloom, on everything really. Because I put so much intention and honesty and, like, blood, sweat, and tears into the lyric, I gave myself permission to let the waters that it was floating on be a little less turbulent artistically, a little less complex and a little more like I was trying to cradle them and deliver them in a way that takes care of them and makes it easier to metabolize – or something.
Was your mindset different, knowing there’s not going to be the grid of the drum beat? Can drums be a bit of a cage sometimes?
Yeah, they can be a cage. But they can also be like something that’s really cozy to lean on in the arrangement. Like, I can drop everything and have it just be drums and vocals for a verse and it feels really good. But for this album, I set a goal that the songs are meant to be performed as just me and the guitar, because that’s how they were recorded. That means that whatever break that I gave you in Wonderbloom by stripping down the arrangement and going to drums now needs to be created with whatever tools I have by myself, whether that’s narrative, or a right hand finger pattern, or fill in the blank.
This made me wonder how much you have performed solo acoustically in your career, given the emphasis on arrangement on a lot of your records.
Quite a bit, yeah. I have a lot of respect for my bandmates. And if there were ever gigs that we were offered where I felt like I couldn’t cover their fee and treat them well, I would just take it solo. I’ve done that a lot. I’ve done a lot of solo tours. A lot of my writing has started out solo, and I have solo versions – for example, “You Didn’t Know,” the song from Wonderbloom that was inspired from watching the documentary about R. Kelly. That song, I poured my heart out solo and then stripped the solo version back when I was in the studio turning it into the Wonderbloom version.
Solo feels like a home base to me, and it’s something that I think I’ve resisted, because maybe I felt like it wouldn’t be enough. There’s this narrative, especially in the booking world, that they don’t want to book you unless you have more than one or two people on stage, because it’s not enough to create the energy to get the focus of the audience. And maybe it’s not loud enough, you know? I also had that in mind. This might not be very marketable, but I’ve got to do my best to just serve these songs to the best of my ability. And it’s got to get done anyway, because this is how I’m processing this part of my life,
Meanwhile, your tempo of collaborative work never seems to let up. I have my personal favorites, but can you address some of your favorite partnerships here in the last few years?
We haven’t mentioned this yet as part of the story of this record, but knee-deep in the writing and recording stages of this album, we also lost David Crosby. I’d already gotten punched in the face and then I was like, kicked on the ground. Not that it’s about me. The whole world grieved that loss. As I mentioned, when I lost my mom, it was a very complicated grieving process. I took a lot of inspiration from listening to albums like Sufjan Stevens’s Carrie & Lowell, where it’s okay for grief to be ugly and complicated and to show that. But with Croz, it was so sad, because I loved him so much, and I loved being in his band, and I loved writing music with him. But the presence that he held in my life didn’t diminish. I couldn’t hug him, but there was this sort of heavenly presence when I was writing the songs for this album, where I could hear him and see him in my mind, kind of rooting me along.
And tell me about Michael League of Snarky Puppy and the universe that he inhabits with the GroundUP record label, which has been supportive of you all this time. It’s such a fascinating record company. I feel like they’ve got a lot to teach the music industry about curation and cultivation of a tribe, and I’d love for you to remark on how that model has served you.
I like the word tribe. I often think of it as family, but I think tribe is even stronger. I feel safe with that label in a way that I’ve never felt safe with labels before, especially major ones, where, if you’re not performing exactly the way that they want you to, you get kind of put on a shelf, and then your art doesn’t get heard because, because you’re not pleasing the corporation.
With GroundUP, I’ve always felt like whatever I’m getting into is what they want me to do. They’re like, “Your health and happiness and artistry come first and if that’s what you need to make right now, we’re behind it.” And I can’t tell you how liberating and comforting that is as an artist to know that the people that are helping you put your music out have your back. And we all love each other too. We all play together and love each other too.
And speaking of Sufjan Stevens, you got to be on Broadway in his Illinoise musical. What did that add to your world?
Yeah, it was a limited run on Broadway and I did half of the run. So I had Isla, my second daughter, on February 24 of this year. And then I got a call from Timo Andres, who did the orchestrations, saying, “I know you’re on maternity leave. This is crazy. I shouldn’t even be calling you, but I can’t not think of you for this role. Is there a world where you would ever audition for this?” I was like, “Yeah, I could audition and see what happens…” and didn’t expect to get it. I came in with my newborn baby. I handed her to my manager, did the audition, and they called me within a day and said they’d love for me to do it.
Initially I thought, “There’s no way.” I’m giving you all of this extra detail because a huge part of the experience for me was the chaos and the balance of the life that I was living at home for the first half of that day in Princeton – nursing my baby and being a new mama – and then handing her to my husband and jumping on the train for two hours, going into the city just in time to perform, and then coming back home and doing it all again and nursing through the night. It was this superhuman thing that initially I thought, “Oh, there’s no way this is going to work.”
The whole experience was like a dream state – being on stage and singing that music, which I’ve loved for so long. And also, having it not be about me was very refreshing. I’m not the band leader and I’m singing someone else’s music as a narrative that’s coming from the bodies of the dancers. We can lean on the coziness of the production, and just enjoy it.
I would say coming out of that helped me to be less self-absorbed. The headspace that I was in for Maple to Paper was very me, me, me, me, me, me. And then Illinoise was like, “No, it’s not about you. It’s about being in service to something greater than you.” Whether you’re writing a song about your feelings or singing somebody else’s, that’s always what it’s been.
2024 is winding down and like any other year, there’s a lot to say goodbye to as we welcome in the future. Memories (the good and bad), loved ones, homes – all seem to eventually become markers in time.
A marker in my ‘24 was the release of my third record, The Never-Ending Years, in October. The theme of time is common throughout (as the title would suggest), and when BGS asked me to put together a playlist in celebration, I considered the many topical songs that have had an impact on me.
There may be some obvious players left out (sorry, Pink Floyd and Jim Croce) but really, these are simply the songs that have meant the most to me, songs I listen to in eternal recurrence, all having something to do with the fact that time moves on – with or without our blessing. – Thomas Cassell
“Where Did the Morning Go?” – Blue Highway
Blue Highway has had an incredible impact on everything I do. They really set a bar with thoughtful, original material in bluegrass music. This song in particular pulls a heartstring, as the every-quickening pace of life only blurs with time.
“Childish Things” – James McMurtry
There’s an innocence that we lose every day and much of our wonder and curiosity tends to disappear with it. But for me, the contentment of looking back brings calmness and comfort for the future. James McMurtry is on my Mount Rushmore of songwriters and this song (I think) is as good as anything he’s ever written.
“Mama’s Hand” – Lynn Morris (written by Hazel Dickens)
Leaving home is tough, as most anyone knows. Inevitable as it is, it can be hard to say goodbye, no matter the opportunity that awaits. Lynn’s music has brought me a lot of comfort in this life.
“Today” – John Hartford
John Hartford’s songwriting certainly doesn’t need my endorsement, but I think his early records are often overlooked. This song was released in 1967, Hartford’s LA era that gave us “Gentle On My Mind,” “No End of Love,” and so many others. There ain’t nothing but today.
“Last Time on the Road” – Nashville Bluegrass Band (written by Carl Jones)
This song found me at the right time. I was getting burnt out from touring and music in general had become a daily commitment that brought little joy. It was nice to know that others felt the same, but also that they were capable of salvaging the good and moving forward making great music – in the NBB’s case, four more great records.
“Needed” – Robbie Fulks
Robbie Fulks has been a favorite for a long time, partly for his unpredictable performance style – check out Revenge! (Live) – but also for his thoughtful lyricism and vulnerable storytelling. This song highlights the latter, and all the reflection and regret that comes with getting older.
“Blackberry Summer” – Dale Ann Bradley
Is it possible to be nostalgic for a childhood you didn’t have? I think so – at least that’s how I feel when I listen to this song. Dale Ann takes me back to all of my childhood summers, as similar or different as they may be.
“Nail” – Ed Snodderly
Ed is a songwriter’s songwriter, and one of the coolest musicians I know. His group The Brother Boys is an all time favorite, but this song from his 2017 solo record really fits the current theme. The nothin’ here leaves no more.
“Don’t You Know I’m From Here” – Brennen Leigh
Prairie Love Letter is one of those records that I downloaded before a flight and then proceeded to listen to three or four times through before landing (still do sometimes). The writing is incredible front to back, but the opening track really hit me hard. I’m from a very small town and every time I go home, I find I have less of a connection to the place – only a growing longing for one. This song of Brennen’s couldn’t articulate that feeling any better.
“Bed by the Window” – James King (written by Marnie Wilson and Rob Crosby)
The Bluegrass Storyteller. I’m not sure there’s a song that earned James King that title more than this one does. Here’s your reminder to go and visit the elderly in your life, wherever they may be.
“The Randall Knife” – Guy Clark
I couldn’t finish this playlist without including Guy Clark’s magnum opus. There’s a lot I could say about this song, but none of it as well as him.
“Autumn Leaves Don’t Fall” – Thomas Cassell
And if you’ve made it all the way to the end, I’ll reward you with a little bit of self-promotion. Jon Weisberger and I wrote this song after thinking about how the more people we lose, the quicker we seem to lose them. Time is exponential.
Artist:Kasey Anderson Hometown: Portland, Oregon Latest Album:To the Places We Lived Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): For a brief while in my early 30s I was convincing people to call me “T-Bone,” but it died out pretty quick.
Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?
I’m extremely fortunate in that the artists who influence me most are, by and large, my friends. I’ve been doing this a long time and had the opportunity to meet a lot of people, many of whom were heroes to me before I met them and remain so. Others have become heroes to me over time, through their work and friendship and their orientation to the world.
Hanif Abdurraqib, Kaveh Akbar, Melissa Febos, Brandon Shimoda, Lizzie No, Adeem the Artist… those are all friends whose creative work inspires and influences me – and whose orientation to the world, to their communities, and to their places within the world/their communities inspires and influences me.
One of my dearest friends, Ellen, runs a harm reduction program here in Portland and her approach to community and care has been an enormous influence on how I experience the world, and in turn, I see that influence in what I write. My family informs and influences me every day, in ways I sometimes don’t even realize until I hear them come back to me in my songs. I think when I was younger it would have been easier to say, “Bob Dylan, Steve Earle, Joan Armatrading,” whatever – Mike Watt, who I just spoke to last week. The list is long, you get the point – and of course that’s still true; there’s a long list of artists whose work influenced mine but, again, I’ve been doing this a while. The people who have a significant impact on my life, the people I love, they find their way into the work as much as anyone or anything else.
What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?
Eric Ambel taught me about the importance of lunch during a recording session. I’m not really a lunch eater – I never have been – but getting that break, that time to just be together, is important. My inclination is always to work from the second mics are set up until the second they come down. I’m glad I’ve been surrounded by people smarter than me who know when to take a break. It doesn’t matter as much when lunch happens, just that it happens. Just that people get a chance to extract themselves from the process for an hour or so.
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
I didn’t realize this until much later on, but I hid behind most of the characters I wrote on Heart of a Dog and Let the Bloody Moon Rise. At the time, and for years after, I talked about those songs as if they were all works of fiction – or at least about people other than myself – but once I had some distance from those records and had been in recovery for a while, I recognized myself in all those songs. I had been writing to myself, about myself.
What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?
I think what might surprise people more than anything I do listen to is the fact that I don’t really listen to Americana or country music much. I listen to my friends’ records, if something comes out that a lot of folks are talking about or someone recommends I’ll check that out, but I don’t really listen to the kinds of songs I write, at least not much anymore.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
Well, I am currently the Deputy Executive Director at a nonprofit in Portland, so I’m not sure how much more of a “second job” I could possibly have.
Today we have one of my favorite couples on Only Vans! Michael is currently Pat Green’s drummer and also has a solo artist career. Michaela is the creator and artist behind More Than Music Creations. We talk about losing brain space, being parents, and their unique side hustle.
On this edition of Only Vans, my friend Michael Kelton met Kyle and I on the RV when his wife, Michaela – you heard that right, their names are Michael and Michaela – also walked up. She is one of my dear friends, so I invited her to sit down and be a bonus guest on Michael’s episode of the podcast. Michael is currently the drummer for established Texas legend Pat Green (who also had a national hit with the song “Wave on Wave”), but Michael does a lot more than just drum for Pat. I loved talking to him about his Sideman Song Swap show, where “sidemen” such as drummers, guitarists, fiddle players, and even tour managers showcase their own “frontman” talents alongside Michael. It’s very impressive.
Michaela, meanwhile, is a master upcycler and has found a way to take used guitar strings from a bunch of bands – including my own – and turn them into one-of-a-kind jewelry items that we can sell at our merch tables with some of the profit going back to a good cause.
Oh! And the carbon monoxide alarm goes off at the end of the episode in the RV and it is loud. Super sorry about that, my deepest apologies, but I’m warning you now in case you’re driving. It’s also kind of funny! Enjoy!
Who needs Black Friday when you have New Music Friday? We’ve got your doorbusters right here, in our weekly premiere roundup!
This week, from the bluegrass realm, we have two new tracks from labelmates Benson and Jaelee Roberts. Check out “Down That Road” from husband-and-wife-duo Benson, featuring bluegrass veterans Kristin Scott Benson and Wayne Benson – with vocals by Keith Garrett. Plus, Jaelee Roberts pays tribute to ’80s and ’90s bluegrass with a loving homage to the Lonesome River Band with her cover of “Looking For Yourself.”
Also in our premiere collection, we have a brand new lyric video for “Go to the Sun,” a new single from Swedish folk-pop singer-songwriter Sarah Klang all about going from a dark place to one of hope. To wrap us up this week – and this month! – don’t miss our exclusive two-song Tønder Session with Ugandan-Texan roots artist Jon Muq.
It’s all right here on BGS and You Gotta Hear This!
Benson, “Down That Road”
Artist:Benson Hometown: Boiling Springs, South Carolina Song: “Down That Road” Release Date: November 29, 2024 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “‘Down That Road’ is a great song. I love to play banjo on tunes with this lilting groove. Wayne and I are both huge Keith Garrett fans and we love his vocal delivery on this one. The song conveys a vulnerability and he did a great job capturing that.” – Kristin Scott Benson
Track Credits: Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo Wayne Benson – Mandolin Cody Kilby – Guitar Kevin McKinnon – Bass Tony Creasman – Drums Dustin Pyrtle – Harmony vocal
Sarah Klang, “Go To The Sun”
Artist:Sarah Klang Hometown: Gothenburg, Sweden Song: “Go to the Sun” Album:Beautiful Woman Release Date: November 29, 2024 (single); February 7, 2025 (album) Label: Nettwerk Music Group
In Their Words: “‘Go to the Sun’ is one of the most personal songs I’ve ever written. This song represents going to better places, be it in your mind or physically traveling to those places. It’s about a person’s mental state going from a dark place to one of hope. It’s about escaping from the day-to-day and finding your way.” – Sarah Klang
JaeleeRoberts, “Looking For Yourself”
Artist:Jaelee Roberts Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Looking For Yourself” Release Date: November 29, 2024 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “I absolutely love the ’80s and ’90s eras of bluegrass music and ‘Looking For Yourself’ (originally recorded by the Lonesome River Band) completely embodies that vibe. I’ve been a LRB fan my entire life and this song has always jumped out at me while listening to that classic album, so I decided that ‘Looking For Yourself’ should be the first bluegrass cover song that I’d record. Andy Leftwich, Cody Kilby, Ron Block, Byron House, John Gardner, and Grayson Lane are absolutely awesome and made this track go from dream to reality for me! Speaking of Grayson Lane, I just have to say how happy I am to have him singing harmony with me on this. We have known each other since we were born (literally) and he is one of my favorite singers and his voice on ‘Looking For Yourself’ was the icing on the cake. I hope y’all will enjoy my spin of one of my favorite bluegrass songs and that you’ll listen to it loud and sing along at the top of your lungs!” – Jaelee Roberts
Track Credits: Jaelee Roberts – Vocals, harmony vocals Byron House – Bass Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar Andy Leftwitch – Mandolin, fiddle John Gardner – Drums Ron Block – Banjo Grayson Lane – Harmony vocals
Tønder Session, Jon Muq
Earlier this year, during the waning days of summer, our videographer friends at I Know We Should traveled to Denmark to capture a handful of special sessions with Americana and roots artists performing at Scandinavian music festivals. For our next installment in this mini-series, we’re excited to feature singer-songwriter Jon Muq performing during his time at premier Danish music event, Tønder Festival.
Born and raised in Uganda, Jon Muq has made waves since relocating to Austin, Texas, and leaving his mark on the American roots music scene. Earlier this year he released his debut full-length album, Flying Away, on Dan Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound. That’s the project from which Muq’s first selection is pulled. On a waterside boardwalk with a marshy backdrop, Muq offers “Bend,” a song about resiliency, flexibility, and connection, and “Hello Sunshine,” another track from Flying Away – one just perfect for August in Denmark.
Photo Credit: Sarah Klang by Fredrika Eriksson; Jaelee Roberts by Eric Ahlgrim.
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