Rachael Kilgour unravels the layers of her late father on the album, My Father Loved Me. Recorded in the cold of Toronto and produced by Rose Cousins (who also joins us for this conversation), this album carries the essence of Canadian roots and is a profound exploration of family heritage through the lens of an ordinary, hard working, and humble man who died in 2017. Duluth-born Rachael, and Rose, based in Halifax, reflect on their cold weather experiences, infusing the recording process with warmth despite the chilly Canadian setting.
The core of our discussion revolves around Rachael’s deep emotional connection to the album, particularly her poignant exploration of the father-daughter relationship amidst the challenges of dementia. We navigate the themes of grief, death, and identity while learning about Rachael’s father, his impact, and how he continues to live on through Rachael’s personality and idiosyncrasies. They shared the struggle of anxiety and self-doubt, which the songwriter addresses on the album. We also get a look into Rose’s perspective on Rachael’s growth and the impact the vulnerable creative process has had on her songwriting. And then, we wrap it all up with a very fun Dad-themed lightning round.
Artist:Beta Radio Hometown: Wilmington, North Carolina Song: “This One’s Going to Hurt” Label: Nettwerk Music Group
In Their Words: “This is the first song we’ve ever co-written with someone (Henry Brill) and I would’ve never written this song on my own. The main line is so direct and I think a lot of my songwriting is dancing around an idea versus saying it plainly. This time, for this song in particular, it felt more appropriate to be clear and to the point about the message.
“It’s mainly a song about reckoning and about realizing that you can’t stand on a fence for so long. The first line, ‘Unrolling on the road,’ is an idea that expands on that feeling, of being away from your own center, out on the edges of your known reality, on the periphery and not at home.
“‘This One’s Going To Hurt’ is about letting something that’s been making you sick die. Because whenever something dies, then there’s space for something else to be born. But knowing that in that process, suffering and pain will be your companions.
“There are also themes of traveling, which was a big part of writing the record and a big part of my life in general at the time. I did a lot of moving around from place to place.” – Beta Radio
Artist:Alice Di Micele Hometown: Ashland, Oregon since 1986; Linden, New Jersey as a child Song: “Square One” Album:Interpretations Vol 1 Release Date: January 19, 2024 Label: Alice Otter Music
In Their Words: “I’ve been enamored by Tom Petty’s songwriting for most of my life. The depth and diversity of his catalog is inspiring. Back in 2018, shortly after his passing, my co-producer Bret Levick and I formed a tribute band called Petty Thievery. It has been really fun to rock out to his songs and it gave me a new outlet for playing and singing. I absolutely love being a singer-songwriter, but it’s fun to wear a different hat now and again. I chose this mellower tune for my record, because I was driving home from tour with my drummer the first time I heard it and I had to hit replay 6 or 7 times. I went home and learned it. The theme of starting over really struck a chord in me.” – Alice Di Micele
Track Credits:
Alice Di Micele – vocals, acoustic guitars, shaker Gene Black – electric guitar Rob Kohler – bass Bret Levick – backing vocals
One of the most stunning and enjoyable albums of 2023 was released in mid-November by Galax, Virginia-based singer-songwriter Dori Freeman. Entitled, Do You Recall, it’s a vibrant and energetic collection of eleven original songs that also feel cozy and down home, like a back porch jam or guitar pull – there’s a buzz in the air, but no overhanging urgency. It’s pure fun, but it’s also earnest and, at times, devastating.
That homey sense, pervasive and enveloping on Do You Recall, is thanks in no small part to Freeman and producer, her husband, drummer Nicholas Falk, having tracked the entire album in their backyard studio. But these tracks don’t feel antiquated or pastoral, and they certainly do not evoke a revisionist, white-washed, or sanitized rural ideal. There’s no preaching or authenticity signaling undergirding these songs, they’re simply genuine representations of Freeman and Falk intentionally following or guiding each song to its best, natural endpoint.
Freeman has decidedly re-centered her career and her music making away from so-called Music Cities – like Nashville and New York City – over the course of her five critically-acclaimed albums. She clearly feels no need to peacock or to raise a middle finger to the Music Industry, or play to “outlaw” narratives in country. Rather, she and her creative community have deliberately shifted the focal point of her songs and albums away from industry currencies and social or political structures bit by bit, click by click. As a result, her music truly shines – and certainly reaches audiences that see and appreciate that deliberation. Each of her prior albums are testaments to this growth and action, but Do You Recall may be Freeman’s best to date.
Our Cover Story conversation began discussing this shift away from music industry models and naturally and languidly, as the album, touched on agency, nuance and complication in Appalachia, solidarity and class consciousness, and so much more.
BGS: I wanted to start by asking you about how your priorities maybe have shifted in relation to the music industry? I sense that there’s this insulation between you and the capital M, capital I, “music industry,” whatever that means, right? It feels like you care less about what matters to the industry and more about what matters to you. And that feels so tangible in the music. Do you agree or disagree with that?
Dori Freeman: I do agree with that. I think I kind of always have written music from a perspective of not really caring – I never approach music through the lens of what would please a record label or what is going to be a song that people want to play on the radio or anything like that.
But I do think that perspective has only gotten stronger as I’ve gotten older. The longer I’ve written music, [the more] I write music that means something to me and that I hope will resonate with other people, because I find that the music that I’m drawn to is written in that same way. It’s music that is honest in the best way possible.
That honesty you’re talking about feels so homey, so grounded in your everyday. I think that’s part of what makes it feel like you’re not just giving a middle finger to the industry. It’s more that you’re re-centering what you do away from the industry record by record.
I would agree with that. It’s not that music isn’t a big part of my life – I mean, it obviously is, it’s the career that I’ve chosen – but as far as day to day goes, the majority of my life is spent living in a small town and raising a young daughter. That’s [why] I write a lot about both of those things. I don’t necessarily think those are really topics that record labels are begging to have more songs about, but that’s just what my life is and so those are the things that I write and sing about.
Can you talk a little bit about where you live? You live in Galax proper, yes?
Yeah, I live in Galax proper. I’m actually the last house on the street that I live on that’s technically still in Galax. The population in Galax is around 10,000, so it’s not very big. I’ve moved around a little bit in my life, but the majority of my life I’ve spent here in Southwest Virginia. And Galax in particular is a town that’s known for music. It’s like the self-proclaimed old-time music capital of the world, and we have a Fiddler’s Convention every year that’s one of the oldest. It’s known for music.
I mean, even the way that we – my husband and I – made this album [was] literally in our backyard. He built a timber-frame studio during the pandemic, so we recorded it here too, and at a much slower pace than I’ve ever had the privilege of making a record. In the past I’ve always had a strict timeframe, we have these four or five days and we have to have everything recorded in that amount of time. This time, it was just much more relaxed, and we could go out to the studio and work on one song for a couple days and then do another one the next week. It was just really refreshing to be able to approach it that way, compared to the way I’ve done it in the past. There are things that are really fun about recording in both of those ways. The pressure can be good, too, but it was nice to have a change of pace.
It may just be the time of year where all I want to do is cook something simmering on the stove all day long, but “Soup Beans Milk and Bread” — there’s so much in it that I, and I’m sure other listeners, can relate to. Especially the line, “You can’t lose something you don’t have.” That line bitch-slapped me, for real. In the best way. Can you talk about writing that one and where that line and that song came from for you?
I always find it a little difficult to articulate when I’m talking about Appalachia, just because I find it easier to write about it in song form, but I will do my best to try to talk about that.
It’s such a nuanced issue. I wrote that one – and then there’s another song on the record that’s also about growing up in Appalachia – and about the different layers of that and the different experiences you have here. The good and the more complicated.
In particular, the line, “You can’t lose something you don’t have.” I wouldn’t say I grew up poor, but I grew up not necessarily having a ton of stuff. But, in a lot of ways, I feel like I had a really happy childhood. Part of that line [is positive]. I mean, you can take it in a negative or more sad way, but it’s also, “Well, you can’t be unhappy about something that you didn’t ever have.”
If you grew up with less, a lot of times you just make the most of that and it ends up being better for you in a lot of ways. That line is definitely meant to be a double-edged sword. This area has been so taken advantage of by the government and by big business that it’s clear, yeah, you can’t lose something you never had, because we were never allowed to have it in the first place.
Another one that was my a favorite on the record is “Why Do I Do This to Myself.” I feel like I asked myself that question all the time!
It’s just such a universal feeling, I think. We all do these things to ourselves, certain things are good for you, certain thought patterns aren’t good for you – and you just can’t help it.
What you were hoping to accomplish musically and sonically with that one? Because it reminds me of classic Patty Loveless or like Terri Clark, very trad ‘80s or ‘90s country. Can you talk a little bit about what you were trying to get out of the production style on that?
Well, ‘90s country was definitely what we were going for with that one. I’m glad that came across with that track. I’ve got to give Nick a lot of credit for the production on a lot of these songs and for just picking out the musicians and for directing and deciding what the vibe would be for a lot of these songs. Our guitar player, Adam Agati, Nick hired him and they both came up with that real country lick, they kind of led the charge on that one.
You’re really playing with agency, I feel like it’s such a character in these songs – what are you choosing for yourself, what is being chosen for you, what’s being handed down to you, and how the speaker in your songs is kind of dancing around these things and talking about them.
I don’t know if I consciously approached it in that way, but I do think that it’s interesting – ‘cause you’re not the first person to bring that up. Someone else that I did an interview with said they felt the songs sort of felt like short stories that were part of the same book. After the fact, sometimes it’s like that. Sometimes you just write the batch of songs and then afterwards it becomes clear.
So I do see that in hindsight, but I don’t know necessarily if I was looking at it that way when I was writing songs, because I just write songs so individually. I’m not thinking of a theme when I approach writing songs for an album. It’s more just work on the songs individually and then hopefully they sort of come together in some sort of cohesive way.
Another thing, which I actually think has been a blessing in disguise, is that I’ve only had one album on an actual label. The subsequent four I’ve self-produced and put out on my own little label at home. I think that’s actually ended up being a good thing, because it has just left me without a lot of boundaries or feeling boxed in. I feel like I’ve had a lot more freedom to write about the things that I wanted to. It may be a smaller audience that I’m reaching and it may be a slower growth and a slower track, but actually, in the long run, I’m glad that I have done it the way that I have.
There are a couple more songs I wanted to ask you about. One is “Movie Screen.” It’s the one that feels most bluegrassy to me in some ways, and it feels very “mountain music,” which is always a nebulous term to me. “Movie Screen” is a story song, and it feels very specific, but it also feels so general and zoomed out and aspirational. It kind of reminds me of Dolly [Parton] and the way that she’d write songs about wanting to be the girl in the movie or on the radio or on stage.
[Laughs] Thank you for the Dolly comparison. I mean, I will always take that.
Yes, that is a really specific song. I wrote that song after becoming really obsessed with, during the pandemic, watching Peaky Blinders on Netflix and just having such a crush on Cillian Murphy, the lead actor in that. It’s pretty funny, because I wrote the song and my husband is one of the first people, if not the first person, I always share songs with. I play him this song and he immediately was like, “Oh, okay– so this is about that guy from Peaky Blinders?” Which is just so funny, because, my husband has brown eyes and there’s a very distinct line in the song about blue diamond eyes. It didn’t take him long to put that together. He likes to give me a hard time over that song. But it’s also about entertainment and movies and TV shows and books, as like an escape from reality and anxiety and all those things.
The other song you mentioned as being about growing up in Appalachia, “They Do It’s True,” it reminds me of Charles Booker’s political action group in Kentucky, Hood to Holler. There’s a line: “If you’ve ever lived on a mountain side/ in a little shack or a double-wide/ Then there ain’t no seat at the table for you.” That line is so striking, especially because it then continues by naming solidarity with women and with Black and Brown folks. It mades me think of Hood to Holler and this idea that in the holler and in the hood, we are more similar than we are different. I wondered if you could talk a little bit about that line in that song and where it came from for you?
That’s definitely what I was trying to write about in that song. I think one of the tactics that conservatives and people in higher positions in government love to use is to pit poor white people against poor Black people just to use that for their own gain. It’s another perspective that I think gets lost when people talk about the Appalachians. They think it’s just 100% white and people have this very specific idea of what it is, but there’s a large Black population. West Virginia has one of the most concentrated populations of transgender teens. There are Appalachian queer film festivals – there are a lot of things that get lost in that bigger message, because people [in power] don’t want us to have solidarity, because that would mean there would be actual change.
Another example of that is the way prisons often end up in poor and working class white communities, and then that’s how they pit Black and white people against each other again, because the white people are afraid of losing the work from the prison. So they want it to stay there, and it’s just a very vicious cycle. I think that it’s something that we should talk about more, because I think the wider audience doesn’t realize a lot of these things about Appalachia.
The class consciousness in the album and the way that you wove class into these songs feels so artfully done.
Appealing to the commercial side of things has never been something that I’ve felt the need to do. That goes back to what I was saying as far as having the freedom to write about what I want to and not being beholden to record labels or anything like that or agents. But it’s also because those are all just important things to me. I grew up in a really rural area and I’m bringing up my daughter in a rural area. I don’t ever want to romanticize the area in an unrealistic way, but I do think it’s important to have conversations as much about the negative things that we do need to improve as all the positive things.
I think that’s it’s really important for people from the area to continue to talk about all of this. In music and writing – and whatever other mediums. So that the rest of America can see that [Appalachia] is not just one stereotypical picture that they have in their heads.
Madeleine Kelson blends traditional folk, country, and Americana. She played Queerfest and took part in AmericanaFest this year, has been featured multiple times on NPR, and was a finalist in the Kerrville Folk Festival’s New Folk Competition.
Madeleine is from Chicago and based in Nashville, where she lives with her partner. Her single, “The Way I Do,” displays her relationship with her partner through a lens that shows how ordinary queer relationships can be: Drinking coffee every morning, coming home for dinner, and falling asleep beside each other every night. The hook declares, “God has never loved a woman the way I do.” It’s an iconic LGBTQ+ anthem, and in my opinion, it’s one of the most compelling songs about queer love and pride.
We’re proud to promote this dedicated and creative up-and-coming coming artist. Our Out Now interview discusses why Madeleine creates music, her favorite LGBTQ+ artists, her release and touring plans for 2024, and more.
Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?
Making music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I started playing and singing as a kid, it was a way for me to connect to the people around me – at first by singing around the house with my mom and my sister and then by playing music with my friends. That’s still a big part of it now, but starting around my teenage years music became a way for me to process big emotions and give them somewhere to live outside of my mind.
As far as the process versus the outcome, I don’t tend to think of making music as having an outcome. A song gets written, and maybe that’s the outcome of songwriting, but then it might get arranged, or performed, or recorded. Even after I stop playing a song at shows, people still listen to it and it grows and changes with them. I’d say the most satisfying part is the impact, whether that be for me or for someone else.
What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?
I love this question! I couldn’t pick just one piece of advice, so here are a few:
One from my mom: “No is a complete sentence.”
Some from my grandpa: “Shoot for the moon. You might surprise yourself and get it.” “Follow your passion. If you love what you do that’s what you will do best.“ And “Treat others with respect. The way up can be a hard slow journey but the fall can be very fast and you meet the same people on the way down as you did on the way up.”
I’ll throw in a good Yiddish saying too: “When you have a lot to do, go to sleep.”
Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?
Oh man! Here’s a big long list, because it’s so hard to choose!
Brandi Carlile (I will always look up to her), Freddie Mercury (I listened to a lot of Queen in high school), Indigo Girls, Linda Perry, Allison Russell, Brandy Clark, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Katie Pruitt, Amythyst Kiah, Celisse, Boygenius…
Also want to shout out some amazing local artists that I love: Purser, Autumn Nicholas, Jobi Riccio, Becca Mancari, Denitia, Jaimee Harris, Liv Greene, and Julia Cannon.
For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?
I was really lucky to grow up in a very liberal city in a very liberal family. When I came out, I knew the people around me would be supportive. Any apprehension I felt had to do with the people outside of my circle and my life beyond Chicago. That being said, I still didn’t really know I was gay until high school. I think the things that helped me find myself were the people around me – having friends who were out, seeing queer couples, going to pride parades, watching shows with queer characters, going to concerts or other events that I knew lots of queer people would attend.
Seeing what that part of my life could look like in other people helped me make sense of who I could be. Coming out is something you don’t do just once, but constantly for the rest of your life. At some point it changed from something I dreaded doing to something that has brought me comfort, joy, and community.
What are your release and touring plans for the next year?
I’m currently releasing singles off of a four-song EP that will be out mid-February. I’ll be on tour with Alaina Stacey supporting that EP, through the Midwest and Northeast starting February 16th in Chicago. Touring is one of my favorite things, and I can’t wait to see everyone at these shows! Seriously, show up. I want to see you!
You’ve done a lot this year, from touring to playing several festivals, including Queerfest, AmericanaFest, and Perseids Music Festival. What’s that been like for you?
It has been so much fun! There are few things that bring me more joy, or make me feel more like myself, than being on stage. It’s such a rush and so emotionally gratifying, even to play sad songs and feel things so deeply with other people. There’s really nothing like it. It’s been a busy year, and one in which I have definitely overcommitted myself, but I’m grateful for every part of it.
In 2022, you released your debut album, While I Was Away, on Olivia Records. Can you share some of the key inspirations and themes behind the album?
While I Was Away was actually my college thesis project! The idea was to write and produce an album that musically pulled from the different building block genres of Americana (folk, rock, country, etc.), and lyrically spoke to the years since I moved away from home. It’s a real time capsule of my life from 18-22. It’s about leaving home, being gay in the South (oy), growing up, watching the kids I babysit grow up, my dog, so many things!
You were also a finalist in the Kerrville New Folk Competition. Could you tell us about that experience?
Kerville Folk Festival was incredible. I had no idea what to expect going into it. I applied on a whim and when I heard that I got in, I could never have imagined what it would be like. If you haven’t been to a festival like that, it can be hard to imagine, but essentially there’s a big piece of land in the middle of Texas and for three weeks every year it turns into a city of stages, tents, RVs, and so much good music. It’s home to the most respectful and outstanding song circles that carry on through the night, and quite possibly do not ever end. Playing and competing was an honor, but the real privilege was to be around so many phenomenal songwriters whom I’m happy to now call my friends.
Could you share the creative process, inspirations, and the significance behind your song ‘The Way I Do’?
“The Way I Do” started as a line that floated around in the back of my mind, honestly probably for months before I knew what to do with it. The line was, “If I don’t get to heaven for loving her true, God has never loved a woman the way I do,” which ultimately became the hook of the chorus.
Growing up, I was very aware of homophobia, but it wasn’t something I experienced personally in any significant way. That really changed when I moved to Tennessee. And I say that not to generalize or condemn the South – there are a lot of amazing people here who are deeply involved in fighting inequality. In my experience, it’s a more tangible and pervasive issue here, and if anyone is going to make a difference, it’s the people here who are fighting that fight every day. I think growing up with the experience of feeling entitled to confidence and comfort in my sexuality made me that much more pissed off when I was faced with intolerance. Especially the virulent brand of “Christian” homophobia that the South is so well known for. That, I really didn’t and still don’t understand.
The thought behind the song is kind of a sarcastic, “If your god knew how great it is to love a woman, he/she/it definitely wouldn’t hate me for it.” It’s definitely a “fuck you,” but it’s also an honest reflection on how easy and natural it is to love someone who happens to share your gender.
Songwriter Maya de Vitry and bassist Ethan Jodziewicz come to their partnership with an understanding for their chosen lifestyle and a creative playfulness that enhances their connection. While Maya’s roots are firmly planted in folk music, Ethan brings classical music and improvisation to the table. They’ve been collaborating together since Maya’s post-Stray Birds solo career, which launched in early 2019 with her record, Adaptations. Fast forward to 2023, they are back alongside Joel Timmons and Hannah Delynn with the fabulous new EP, Infinite. For the first time in years, Maya is back on the road, while Ethan has been touring basically non-stop with musicians like Aoife O’Donovan, Sierra Hull, and Lindsay Lou. In our conversation, they talk about how it’s helpful to be in a relationship with someone who is also deeply committed to a musician’s lifestyle while understanding when someone needs a break.
Maya also reflects on her current state of being within her body and how she has trouble recognizing physical pain to the point where she can’t move. She talks of the realization that she had the tendency to tense up when picking up a guitar and how that was because she felt like she didn’t belong. Ethan and Maya share their observations on working within a boundary. Ethan laments that he often works within a boundary with improvisation while Maya speaks of placing limitations around touring and performing live shows. We end this insightful interview with Maya revealing celebrity sightings are her Nashville Starbucks and a very fun Lightning Round called “Which One.”
Photo Credit: Maya de Vitry by Kaitlyn Raitz; Ethan Jodziewicz by Lily Smith
In Their Words: “This is a lighthearted song about spiritual surrender and my own internal dialogue of learning to let go. There is great relief in detaching from any outcome. There is great beauty in not knowing what’s around the corner and just simply sitting, watching the river flow.
“I love how Daniel Groover’s drums and Jonny Daly’s guitar solo magnify the playful, nothing-to-lose mindset needed to truly let go of control and trust in the flow of life. It is affirming to me that, although I had not originally planned for ‘I Don’t Know’ to be on the album, the song took on a life of its own and became a no-brainer for inclusion. To surrender control can lead to some happy surprises!” – Diane Coll
Artist:The Steel Wheels Hometown: Harrisonburg, Virginia Song: “Yes I Know” Album:Sideways Release Date: February 9, 2024 Label: Big Ring Records
In Their Words: “‘Yes I Know’ dips into that feeling when you can see the moment you’re in with someone else as a beautiful moment, while simultaneously seeing the future – that no relationship is static. Is ‘forever’ a useful idea to comfort our fears? Maybe, or maybe it can be inspiring to remember all relationships will eventually end. For me, there are times of year when forever feels more real than others: the heat of the summer, when the days last 16 hours and feel full of forever energy, while the month or so of leaves changing in the fall always confronts me with change and the passage of time.
“The video for the song started as more of a 2 week autumnal leaf study. I live in Harrisonburg, Virginia, down the block from a beautiful city park. I wanted to try to film the changing of the leaves, so I started recording the same video every day for a couple of weeks in October/November. The video logs my small daily nature walks and the transformative show of the seasonal shifts.” – Trent Wagler
I was born into a music-centered family in small town Arkansas near “where the Delta meets the Ozarks.” My grandparents started a music store on the court square in the 1960s and they sold instruments and equipment, et al. – and also carried the top records of the day. So, music and musicians were infused into my life from birth and my family was at the center of a vibrant musical community.
At every holiday or birthday or community event, we played music together and sang with a cast of characters ranging from the local church organist to Sun Records session players. I thought every family was like that, but as I’ve grown older and a lot of those characters have passed on, I’ve realized how rare my upbringing was and I cherish it with all my heart.
I remember the voices and the sounds of the jams like it was yesterday, and I’m honored to make a playlist of some of the favorites we played and sang together. I didn’t discover a lot of the recordings of these songs until much later in my life because we played them by rote – or sheet music – at those beautiful, heavenly hoe-downs. These songs are the soundtrack of my early life. I’m honored to share them. – Bonnie Montgomery
(Editor’s Note: Scroll to find the full Mixtape playlist below, to enjoy while you read.)
“Precious Memories” – Merle Haggard & The Strangers featuring the Carter Family
I chose Merle Haggard and the Carter Family’s version of this hymn, because it’s the closest version to what I remember our hoe-down version sounding like. My grandfather Ivan would always request this song and all the old-timers would sing with such passion, and even tears. I remember the far away look in their tear-filled eyes when they sang it, and although I never felt it like they did back then, I loved the song. We always thought it was a funny selection too, because they would always sing it “pray – shush mam -ries” over and over, which made us laugh. But now that those faces are all passed and gone across the great divide, I feel it like my grandfather used to. Now, just like them, all I have is the memories. Sacred, precious, treasured memories gathered around the piano in my grandparent’s music room – in what feels like a lifetime ago.
“Your Cheatin’ Heart” – Hank Williams Sr.
I didn’t hear the recorded Hank Williams version of this until my late teen years, but we sang it as the grand finale of the Christmas Eve hoe-down every year. After hours of singing the entire catalogue of Christmas carols and standards, my grandfather would sing this one with the most volume and gusto of them all. My mother, or our dear family friend Teddy Reidel, would play a romping walking bass line on the piano with it. So when I went Christmas caroling with friends at age 11, I was ready for the big grand finale and started in on “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” but none of my friends knew it! It was then that I realized “Your Cheatin’ Heart” in fact wasn’t a Christmas carol!
“Born to Lose” – Ted Daffin
My grandfather always requested this song when I was playing piano, whether at the jam sessions or after school, when I would be practicing piano at their house. I never understood it, because the lyrics were so depressing and I wondered why anyone in their right mind would want to profess to being such a huge loser, ha! I remember practicing my classical pieces (I rebelled in the ultimate way by falling in love with classical music at a young age) and Papaw would holler “quit playing that long hair music and play ‘Born to Lose.'” By “long hair,” he meant classical, as in Handel or Beethoven’s long hair. I still laugh about that – instead of long haired hippies, he was talking about the wild artists from centuries ago.
“Sentimental Journey” – Doris Day, Les Brown & His Orchestra
This was my grandparents’ song. They would request this one and dance together every time we played it. During the Great Depression, my grandfather left Arkansas and went to California to look for work. Once he was there, he sent for my grandmother Frances and when she was out there, they got married. They both missed home terribly, so around 1943, when they finally arranged to go back, they had to go separately because of money. My grandmother was expecting their first child by then and had to ride all the way home from California to Arkansas in the back of pickup truck. She always called it her sentimental journey and you could just see the love between them every time we played this one.
“Tennessee Waltz” – Connie Francis
This was another favorite at the hoe-downs. I must have played it a million times while everybody danced and sang. And other times, when we were just hanging out at home, my grandmother would sit in a chair near the piano and ask me to play this one. She would have such a huge smile on her face and she just seemed to melt into the song. I’m so grateful for her encouragement with my musical endeavors.
“Sweet Dreams” – Patsy Cline
This was another of my grandmother Frances’ favorites. She was a fashion-forward, tall, beautiful red-head, full of life and fire. For small town Arkansas she was way ahead of her time. She started her own businesses (the music store was her main project) and ran for mayor in the ’60s too. She adored Patsy Cline and always thought she was so classy compared to the other female country singers of her time. We didn’t jam on this song, but we listened to the recording at full volume. The string arrangements from those Patsy songs have a huge influence on my string arrangements (arranged and played by maestro Geoffrey Robson) in the studio.
“Goin Down the Road Feelin’ Bad” – Woody Guthrie
My grandfather used to take us to his farm in Garner, Arkansas almost every morning in the summer. It was pure heaven for us as children – we could run wild and do whatever we wanted, ride horses, swing on the barn swing, go fishing, drive old cars and tractors around the farm, eat turnips straight out of the ground when we got hungry, crawl around with the pigs in the pig pen, and much more. We would sing in the truck with him all the way to the farm and he loved to sing this song and make up new verses such as, “I’m goin’ where the boys don’t blow their nose…”
That farm lives in my memory every single day – and incidentally, the highway it’s on (old highway 367), got named the “Rock and Roll Highway,” because it’s the road all the Sun Records artists would drive from Memphis to Helena back in the day. I didn’t know that when I was young, but it makes sense that Johnny Cash, June Carter, Elvis, Roy Orbison, Carl Perkins, etc. knew that road well.
“The Strawberry Roan” – Sons of the Pioneers
My grandfather on my father’s side, a wild cattle auctioneer named Leon Montgomery, used to drink his whiskey and burst in the door with his cowboy hat and a grin and croon out “Oh, That Strawberry Roan” as a greeting.
“Gonna Burn Some Bridges” – Ray Price
Ray Price was another familiar voice in the musical landscape of my childhood and is pretty much the ultimate crooner in my opinion. I’m including this tune because it’s direct inspiration for a song on our new album.
“I Was Fine” – Bonnie Montgomery
I’m including one of the songs off my new album, because it was inspired by the music of my childhood and, in particular, the music of Ray Price. My bandmate and engineer, Kevin, came up with a steel guitar riff that’s a direct nod to the steel guitar riff on Price’s “Gonna Burn Some Bridges.” We recorded this one with vibraphone and full string orchestra and I sang my heart out for Ray.
Zach Day stands out as an artist who has developed his own sound. His writing is venerable and filled with emotion, his voice is professional and polished, and his lyrics are clever, descriptive, and carefully crafted.
I loved hearing Zach’s responses for Out Now. It’s such a treat to gain insights into his mind, music, and process. Zach opens up about his experience growing up as an LGBTQ+ kid in Kentucky and how bittersweet it was, on the one hand, to be immersed in deep homophobia, but on the other, to be built into a beautiful Appalachian environment with inspiring storytelling, homegrown food, and the gift to sing with friends and family.
What’s your ideal vision for your future?
I have this dream of being able to make music full time, never having to worry about money to support my friends and family, and traveling the world with my partner. Eventually I will settle down on a little farm with a family milk cow and some chickens, maybe a couple kids, a big vegetable garden, and a porch with a swing and a bunch of people I love singing songs in harmony while I make a giant dinner for us all every weekend.
What is your greatest fear?
My greatest fear is not being able to accomplish everything that I have dreamed for myself and being forced to live a life of “What-ifs.” I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself and sometimes that freaks me out, because I worry I may never be satisfied. I have to work actively every day to calm myself down [over] these expectations, because it’ll send me into anxiety! That and the whale from Pinocchio… scared of him.
Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?
I create music because I think I have a story that needs to be told. Being a queer person that was raised in the heart of Appalachia is a special and unique perspective. I was raised around amazing singers and musicians, but also I always felt like an observer of my surroundings. I choose to reflect on the great things I took from my raising. I have a huge heart for Appalachia and the stories that come from there. I was raised by generations of coal miners and farmers, teachers and preachers, gardeners and homemakers. I love to reflect on those sentiments in my music and I think you can hear it in my voice and in my songs.
Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?
I can’t get enough of Ethel Cain right now, I really look up to her and her writing skills. She’s inspiring me so much with how she is choosing to tell her stories. Also Searows… can’t get enough.
What are your release and touring plans for the next year?
I have a handful of songs being mixed and mastered right now on their way to streaming platforms and I plan to continue playing all over the place. I have shows booked in LA, Nashville, and NYC all within the next few months. My goal is to open for a big artist like Ethel Cain. I believe it can happen very soon.
You grew up in Kentucky. What was that experience like for you as a queer person?
Growing up in Kentucky as a queer person wasn’t easy. I didn’t even know I was gay until I was a bit older, but I had grown adults saying I couldn’t come to church with them, because they didn’t want a fag in their car. That was before I even knew I was gay. So I had this aura around me my whole childhood that I was different and I think that shifted my perspective on my life. In the good moments though, I could connect with music and really draw on the storytelling and lyrics that I heard to find inspiration. Appalachia is full of amazing storytelling and the environment and nature are so beautiful. I loved eating the food we would grow, I loved singing with my family and friends, and I loved hearing stories from artists like Mitch Barrett and Zoe Speaks.
You stand out as an artist who has developed your own sound. Your voice is professional, polished, and filled with emotion. Your lyrics are clever and descriptive, and the craftsmanship of your songwriting is phenomenal. What was the process of developing your identity as an artist?
Thank you for those kind words, that means a lot to me. I’m still developing my sound and my brand every day. As far as developing what I have at this point, I think that I did my homework for many years… I studied the greats and their subtle nuances… If Karen Carpenter or Joni Mitchell sang something that sent a shiver down my spine I would rewind it and try to emulate that to the best of my ability. If I heard a Dolly Parton lyric that moved me, I would let it sink into my being and ponder it. I just wanted to be able to write iconic songs and sing my face off – and I worked really hard to try and capture that. These days, I feel as though I’ve been leaning more into my Appalachian roots. I spent a long time running from what made me unique, but now I embrace it.
You recently spent some time living in LA and moved back to Nashville. What drew you to live in LA for a while, and what was that experience like for you?
I grew up always wanting to live in LA and experience that lifestyle. I was working with some folks that told me I would “do better” in LA and had a better chance at getting my music heard. But I don’t necessarily think that’s true. I love it there and I love it in Nashville as well. I’ve built a community in both places and have been fortunate enough to work with amazing people in both locations. I have my pockets of support in both cities and for that I’m super lucky. I just realized that I miss being in the woods too much to live in LA right now. I missed nature and I missed being able to turn off my phone and go for a run on a trail, down the road. I love being in the city from time to time but at the end of the day, I’m a country boy and it’s in my roots.
Photo courtesy of Zach Day
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRejectRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
