BGS 5+5: My Brother’s Keeper

Artist: My Brother’s Keeper
Hometown: Cincinnati, Ohio
Latest Album: Wartime Cartoons
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Most of the band goes by our given names. Titus, Joshua, Adam, and Benj(amin), but our bass player “Wyatt” has been holding strong to the nickname “Sawmill” and has a “Sawmill” vanity license plate on his Ford Focus to prove it.

Answers provided by Benj Luckhaupt. 

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

I’m sure any artist would say “it’s hard to choose” and I’m going to say the same. Brian Wilson, Chris Thile, Alison Krauss, Tony Rice are all so formative to us, but as a songwriter I would say Bruce Springsteen has inspired me above all. His melodies are insanely catchy, his lyrics are gritty and literary. I appreciate his ability to be both subtle and straightforward, sometimes in the same sentence. He tells you the facts and then makes you think about the implications. Bruce also covers such a wide range of the human experience. His music is a great blueprint for the “song first” approach and I really try to incorporate that into my writing, even in the bluegrass medium. I want to write simple songs that make you think. There’s also such a variance in sound (think between Nebraska and Born in the USA) and yet it all works. I could nerd out about this forever.

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

Definitely film and literature. We look to film often to inspire our visuals. We have a music video that is very Wes Anderson-esque, and the visuals for the album cover of Wartime Cartoons were inspired by the starkness of show Severance. There are certainly a few songs inspired by movies. A song called “The Banshees” on our last album was inspired by the landscape and darkness of a movie called The Banshees of Inisherin.

Literature, song and poetry are all so closely related. Leonard Cohen was a great author outside of songs. Spending a lot of time in books has had major influence on my writing, directly and indirectly. I love to start my day with a book about religion or history and end my day with a book about music or musicians. Sometimes I try to do an audiobook in between. Just taking in all those beautiful words is such a wonderful way to increase your vocabulary and worldview.

Titus and Wyatt are both photographers, and I think that art form opens up creative pathways as well, and of course contributes to the visuals of the band.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

This kid told me to think about what I’m thankful for and write about that. That was great advice. He was like 5 or 6 years old and I do think about thankfulness every time I write. Out of the mouth of babes.

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

Most people are pretty surprised when they find out that we love hip-hop and mainstream pop. They’re even more surprised when we tell them that our music is inspired by those genres. I’ve even had people say things to me like, “I like all music except for that rap crap” and I’m always like, “Oh, really? Because I love it!” Some people are even surprised when they hear how much we love The Beach Boys.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’d like to sit down with Tony Rice and eat whatever fish he just caught and fried up. I’m sure we wouldn’t talk much, but we’d probably listen to Miles Davis and I’m sure I would learn a lot.


All Photos: Tasha Moehlman

Tim O’Brien & Jan Fabricius Pick ‘Paper Flowers’ As Their First Album Together

Tim O’Brien & Jan Fabricius‘ new album, Paper Flowers, represents something of a double collaboration. While O’Brien has achieved many accomplishments in his long career, Paper Flowers stands as his first official album collaboration with his wife, Jan, although she has written and performed with him over the past decade.

Secondly, Paper Flowers is the result of the couple’s ongoing collaboration with the legendary singer-songwriter Tom Paxton. Twelve of the album’s 15 songs are the product of these regular Zoom sessions. Paxton had known the couple for years from traveling in similar musical circles, but their virtual songwriting dates arose after mutual friends Cathy Fink and Jon Weisberger asked O’Brien and Fabricius if they would consider co-writing a song with Paxton for the Bluegrass Sings Paxton project that they were then just getting off the ground.

The first song the three of them wrote together, “You Took Me In,” wound up on that 2024 release. “We wrote the song really quickly and we’re really happy about it,” O’Brien shared on a phone call between concerts with Fabricius in New Mexico. “It did jump start the process.”

O’Brien has found this collaborative process particularly productive. “Writing songs on your own, for me, sometimes I labor over them for months,” he elaborates. “But with a co-write, it seems like your time is precious. The idea that you’re together in the same space…and you want to get to the crux really as quickly as possible. And in general, it’s a liberating process. It’s like fishing. You’re pulling these things out of the water and you see, ‘Oh, there’s a good one. Here’s a good, good size one.’”

You can easily sense the musical liberation on Paper Flowers. The album stands as perhaps O’Brien’s most musically diverse work across his celebrated career. While still securely rooted in an acoustic foundation, the record contains a variety of music styles, including the boogie-woogie jaunt “Blacktop Rag Top,” the gospel-tinged “Back To Eden,” and the New Wave-y rocker “Down to Burn.” Fabricius discovered that these songwriting sessions can lead to some interesting results.

“It amazes me how we’ll have an idea and then by the time the whole song’s molded and done, it may be totally different, take you down a different path than you thought you were going,” she says. One example of this twisty path of songwriting came when the couple shared with Paxton the story of an armadillo that they were battling in the yard of their Nashville home – including the animal’s miraculous escape from a raccoon trap. Paxton, who was at a laundromat at the time, immediately saw it as a song premise. The highly comical “Lonesome Armadillo” relates the misadventures of an armadillo that’s stranded in a laundromat. It’s trying to bum a quarter to get back to Amarillo after failed attempts to become a Nashville music star, including getting kicked out of the Ernest Tubb Record Shop and not getting to meet award-winning bassist (and longtime O’Brien collaborator) Mike Bub.

Fabricius also credits Paxton for coming up with a key lyrical detail – a peanut butter sandwich – in “Covenant,” a heartbreaking song about parents losing a child in a school shooting that was inspired by the 2023 Covenant School tragedy in Nashville. She recalls, “When he said, ‘Well, let’s say this kid has got a peanut butter sandwich in the backpack,’ at first I thought: ‘Huh?’ And then I thought, ‘Oh boy, that really does bring the reality to it.’ We’re just putting ourselves into the parents’ shoes a little bit, you know, and what can you say? It’s hard to put the words to it, so less was more.” O’Brien adds that these “visual references and physical details are sometimes better than trying to moralize or anything.” He also drew a parallel to the subtleties involved in cooking: “If you make cornbread, you don’t want to stir it up too much. It doesn’t work as well if you stir it up too much.”

Detailed lyric writing is something Paxton very much believes in. “It’s not just a tree; it’s an oak tree,” Paxton believes. “It’s not just a street, it’s Cornwall Street. You get them closer to life when you notice the particulars of life and the sandwich in the kid’s backpack is a given and it’s up to you to see it.”

The importance of details also was central in the creation of the track, “Yellow Hat.” Paxton came to one session stating that he wanted to write a song about a hat. Not just any hat, but a yellow hat. This sense of specificity certainly lent an air of realism to the tune, which deals with a couple aging gracefully. The lyrics come off as being so relatable and authentic that people think it is about O’Brien and Fabricius. O’Brien says that he has alerted audiences that it is not them in the song by announcing: “This is about an old couple, not us; (they’re) moving out of their house, not our house.”

“He hasn’t bought me a yellow hat!” Fabricius chimes in.

Paxton, in fact, often arrives to the Zoom with a premise or a phrase that he is eager to work on. Fabricius recalls him saying: “’This idea has been driving me nuts all week. It’s about a guy who really loves his wife but all he does is complain about her.’ And we were off and running.” After coming up with lyrics for this premise, O’Brien and Fabricius realized the next day that the song was very husband-sided, so they wrote a verse from the wife’s perspective. “And (Tom) was really happy with it,” Fabricius reveals. And well, he should be. The tune, “This Gal Of Mine” sits nicely with Tennessee Ernie Ford/Kay Starr’s “You’re My Sugar” and John Prine/Iris Dement’s “In Spite Of Ourselves” as a classic battling couples country tune.

There are times too when ideas come out of nowhere – or close to nowhere. At one of their virtual meetups, O’Brien was sitting around riffing on the guitar and, as he recalls, “Tom says, ‘Boy, the more you play that, the more it sounds like you’re playing ‘fat pile of puppies.’” And thus, the song “Fat Pile of Puppies” was born. While the tune may initially sound like a light romp simply about adorable little dogs, “Fat Pile of Puppies” (at one time considered for the album’s title) holds a deceptive depth to it. The crucial lyric “Falling in love is what I fear” could easily be describing the emotions for another human as much as for a dog.

“It’s kind of a love song in a way,” Fabricius confides. The writing of this song also came as O’Brien and she were still mourning the loss of their 17-year-old dog; however, they have since acquired a new pup named Nellie Kane (yes, after the O’Brien-penned Hot Rize track).

Real-life inspirations serve as the source for several other songs on this album. “Father of the Bride,” for example, was written for Fabricius’ son when his daughter was getting married. The humorous “Atchison” was inspired by a trip the couple took to Kansas, where Fabricius is from. She has a cousin who actually lives in Atchison, and during the visit, O’Brien exclaimed: “I have never been to Atchison.” The phrase stuck in their heads, giving rise to the album’s catchy lead-off track, which not only references the great train tune “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe,” but also affords O’Brien the opportunity to break out a Jimmie Rodgers-like yodel.

It’s not surprising, however, that the couple wound up choosing “Paper Flowers” as their title track, because it serves as something like their courting song. The tune came about after they came across O’Brien’s old notebooks (the “little $2 notebooks you could put in your shirt pocket,” as he described them) in which he had written his early love notes to her. Fabricius saved the postcards and paper flowers that he had sent her. One of the notes contained the sentence: “one for you and one for me and one for the miles in between,” which got transformed into one of the song’s key lines.

“We still have the paper flowers on the mantle,” Fabricius shares. “And they made for good cover art.”

The tracks that the couple wrote without Paxton, “I Look Good in Blue” and “Down to Burn,” are both true stories, although not drawn from their own lives. “I Look Good in Blue” is a gin-soaked portrait of a honky-tonk piano player whose family told O’Brien and Fabricius about this woman whose wish was to “save that (Bombay) Sapphire bottle and pour my ashes in.” Another song drenched in alcohol, “Down to Burn” was written after the couple encountered a quintet of drunk women on a “girlfriends’ getaway.” The tune, which exudes an ’80s New Wave party vibe, provided O’Brien the chance to dust off his electric guitars. “The great part is seeing Tim in our music room putting electric guitar on (the song). He had more fun with that,” Fabricius shares. O’Brien admits, “I sweated over it more than I had fun. I did enjoy that. I have several electric guitars, and I don’t know how to operate them, and it made me try to learn more. I kind of got a couple of them working pretty good.”

O’Brien has won two GRAMMYs and made a lot of music in his over 50 years as a professional musician. Toward the end of our conversation, he shared some of his thoughts about the role of music and musicians in society. “The music is, in a broader sense, like the human song. It’s like creative force, like a tree growing or grass growing. It’s going to happen and we’re the vehicles – the musicians – the people who play music and we just organize it in some way to let it be there…

“The human race could not function without music,” he continues. “It’s used for various things. It’s used for ceremony. It’s used for dancing. It’s used for entertainment. It’s used for communication… I mean Bob Dylan, he wrote ‘Blowing in the Wind.’ He was writing what he saw, what was already going on. It wasn’t like he invented that. He’s the channel.” O’Brien then paused before adding, “It’s a nice thing to be in the channel and kind of push it along.”


Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Tift Merritt, Kyshona, and More

Folk, country, and Americana join together in this week’s edition of our new music and premiere roundup. You Gotta Hear This!

The lovely and ethereal Tift Merritt is celebrating 20 years since the release of Tambourine this year with an upcoming vinyl reissue and a special collection of demos to go alongside it. Kicking off our new music collection today is one of those demos, “Good Hearted Man,” an intimate kitchen recording of just piano and vocals.

From the country realm, two impeccable artists and singer-songwriters have new albums out today, William Beckmann and Kelsey Waldon. Kentuckian Waldon sings about family ties, generational cycles, and finding oneself on “My Kin,” available today on her stunning new project, Every Ghost. Texan Mexican American Beckmann, for his part, brings a gorgeous, retro-styled music video for “Lonely Over You” that draws inspiration from classic television variety shows and huge musical personalities like Roy Orbison and Elvis.

Elsewhere in our collection you’ll find Steve Gillette paying tribute to his friend, musician and songwriter Gamble Rogers with the touching homage, “Song for Gamble.” The bluesy, energetic track is paired with vintage clips of Rogers set alongside photos and performance and recording footage of Gillette.

To celebrate Juneteenth yesterday, Kyshona released a new single, “More In Common (Live From the Blueroom Studio),” contextualizing the track saying, “I’m releasing ‘More in Common’ on Juneteenth as a reminder that none of us are truly free until all of us are free.” It’s an excellent, all-too-timely reminder – and you’ll be sure to enjoy the performance video shared below.

We always love wrapping up the week with the best new roots music. And you know what we think– You Gotta Hear This!

Tift Merritt, “Good Hearted Man (Kitchen Recording)”

Artist: Tift Merritt
Hometown: Raleigh, North Carolina
Song: “Good Hearted Man (Kitchen Recording)”
Album: Time and Patience (a collection of demos releasing in tandem with the 20th anniversary vinyl reissue of Tambourine)
Release Date: June 18, 2025 (single); August 29, 2025 (album)
Label: One Riot Records

In Their Words: “When I hear my 27-year-old self singing this song, after just having finished writing it, recording in the kitchen on an ADAT machine, I hear my dreams. I can’t help but smile – at my big dreams, the raw reaching, the no costume. I am enormously proud of these kitchen recordings and Tambourine, so happy they are coming out to the world this fall.” – Tift Merritt

Track Credits:
Tift Merritt – Piano, vocals


Kyshona, “More In Common (Live From The Blueroom Studios)”

Artist: Kyshona
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee by way of Irmo, South Carolina
Song: “More In Common (Live From The Blueroom Studios)”
Release Date: June 19, 2025
Label: Lamiere Records/Moraine Music Group

In Their Words: “I’m releasing ‘More in Common’ on Juneteenth as a reminder that none of us are truly free until all of us are free. What if we took ‘I,’ ‘mine,’ ‘them,’ and ‘me’ out of our vocabulary—just for a moment? It’s so easy to tune out, to disassociate from the chaos we’re witnessing. But what if we remembered that we are under attack? That every child is our child?

“After a full year of touring the Legacy album, it’s been deeply moving to see how my own family’s story – of freedom, land ownership, and the wisdom of our elders – resonates with people from all backgrounds. No matter your race or religion, there’s a common thread in how we were raised and what we’ve inherited.

“When we peel back the layers that divide us and look closer at our shared values and stories, we begin to reconnect. The conversations that have come out of this tour have been powerful. People aren’t talking about differences – they’re talking about what unites us.

“As a society, I think we’ve gotten lazy. We’ve stopped looking for what ties us together. My hope is that this song reaches the quiet few who’ve been asking, ‘What happened to us? May it serve as a gentle nudge to follow the thread instead of cutting the seams.

“There’s a lot of noise in the world right now, and I know this message may not reach everyone. But if it reaches even one person – someone overwhelmed by it all – let it be a reminder: we can make ripples of good.

“All it takes is open eyes, open ears, and the courage to show up for each other. Let people know they are seen. Let them know their existence matters.” – Kyshona

Track Credits:
Larissa Maestro – String arrangement, cello
Kristin Weber – Violin
Kyshona Armstrong – Vocals, songwriter
Simon Gugala – Songwriter

Video Credits: Recorded at The Blueroom Studios.
Videographer – Jesse Carr
Edited by Caryn Johnson, Tiny Sunshine Studios.


William Beckmann, “Lonely Over You”

Artist: William Beckmann
Hometown: Del Rio, Texas
Song: “Lonely Over You”
Album: Whiskey Lies & Alibis
Release Date: June 20, 2025
Label: Warner Music Nashville

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Lonely Over You’ with Jesse Frasure and Jessie Jo Dillon. It’s probably my favorite song that I wrote for this album. To me, it feels reminiscent of Roy Orbison, and there’s definitely some Elvis influence in there too. I love the way it was tracked and recorded—there are a lot of stacked harmonies, which give it that lush sound. It’s a new direction I was able to discover and bring to this record. I also think the music video for ‘Lonely Over You’ is my best yet. We shot it all on film in Austin, Texas, and aimed to capture the vibe of the Elvis comeback special. The set design was incredible and made it feel like we were in the late ’60s or early ’70s. Altogether, it’s a special song. I’m very proud of it, and the video that goes with it is a great piece of art as well. We’re looking forward to sharing it.” – William Beckmann

Track Credits:
William Beckmann – Lead vocals, background vocals, acoustic guitar, songwriter
Chad Cromwell – Drums, percussion
Craig Young – Bass
Jedd Hughes – Electric guitar, acoustic guitar
Jesse Frasure – Baritone guitar, background vocals, songwriter, producer
Jimmy Wallace – B3, piano, synth
Jon Randall – Acoustic guitar, producer
Todd Lombardo – Acoustic guitar
Jessie Jo Dillon – Songwriter


Kelsey Waldon, “My Kin”

Artist: Kelsey Waldon
Hometown: Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky
Song: “My Kin”
Album: Every Ghost
Release Date: June 20, 2025
Label: Oh Boy Records

In Their Words: “I am the best of my kin and I am the worst of my kin. I got all of it. It took me a long time, but now, I love that for me. That means I got all of the character, the resilience, the grit, the beauty, the spirit, the humor, the independence, the self-sufficient ideals, the wisdom, and so much more. That, unfortunately, also means I also got the generational trauma, the demons, the stubbornness, the guilt, the defensiveness, and the thing that makes me want to push away anyone who tries to help or love me. I got the gene that makes me want to self-destruct a little bit, for sure. This song is saying, ‘I am all that, and I do have these issues, but the difference is that I am willing to learn and grow, and I am finally willing to break these cycles as well.’ These things are a part of me, and you will have to take me as I am, to a certain extent, and have patience with me. And don’t you love that all these things make me who I am? We just have to learn how to reign them in and use them for good.” – Kelsey Waldon

Track Credits:
Kelsey Waldon – Rhythm acoustic guitar, lead vocals
Junior Tutwiler – Electric guitar, baritone, high strung guitar, lead acoustic guitar
Cooper Dickerson – Pedal steel guitar
Blakely Burger – Kentucky fiddle
Erik Mendez – Electric bass, Rhodes, and Wurlitzer electric piano
Evan Kesel – Drums, percussion
Kristen Rogers – Background vocals


Steve Gillette, “Song for Gamble”

Artist: Steve Gillette
Hometown: North Bennington, Vermont
Song: “Song For Gamble”
Album: Steve Gillette – The Best Of…
Release Date: June 20, 2025
Label: Compass Rose Music

In Their Words: “I met Gamble [Rogers] at the Bitter End in New York in 1967 and we bonded over songs and Merle Travis’ guitar finger picking that became known as ‘Travis Picking.’ Over the years, we would often run into Gamble at festivals or when he was in the New England area. One time stands out for me, when I arrived in Kerrville in 1984: Gamble was booked to perform on the main stage, but he also gave a special one-hour workshop on his guitar technique and his performance ideas. He was so generous about sharing the secrets of his showmanship, and of course, that was consistent with his selflessness as a person. Sadly, it was just his willingness to consider others before himself that contributed to his losing his own life while trying to help another. He was with his family for a day at the beach just south of St. Augustine, Florida, when a little girl ran up to him in tears, begging him to help her father, who was in trouble in the surf. Gamble went into the water, but was unable to help the man and, sadly, both were drowned. That beach is now known as the Gamble Rogers Memorial State Recreation Area.” – Steve Gillette

Track Credits:
Steve Gillette and Charles John Quarto.

Video Credit: Thank you to Rick Davidson, Cathy Roberts, and Sherry Boas for their photos and video contributions.


Photo Credits: Tift Merritt by Alexandra Valenti; Kyshona by Anna Haas.

Basic Folk: Chris Thile (Reissue)

(Editor’s Note: Welcome to our Reissue series! For the next several weeks, Basic Folk is digging back into the archives and reposting some of our favorite episodes alongside new introductions commenting on what it’s like to listen back. This episode featuring Cindy Howes interviewing Chris Thile was originally posted on September 9, 2021, after Chris released his solo album, Laysongs. Enjoy!)

Chris Thile has been making music nonstop since he was five years old. His musical parents found him a mandolin and he started taking lessons and jamming at nearby Southern California pizza shops. He met Sara and Sean Watkins when he was twelve, and they started Nickel Creek. In the meantime, Chris’ parents moved the family from California to Murray, Kentucky, and really started getting serious about evangelical Christianity. This would have a huge impact on Chris; his record Laysongs asks a lot of questions surrounding his experience with religion as a young kid. He talks about the transition from being a family with no religion in their routine to being enveloped so intensely in faith.

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Another important aspect that comes along on the album is Chris’ striking love for classical music. His grandparents gave him some pieces by Bach and set him up for a lifetime of studying and playing classical. Elsewhere in our Basic Folk conversation he gets into what it was like to grow up alongside Sara and Sean as bandmates, friends, and fellow Christians. One of the themes of the new album is about community, namely, engaging in a community that you love. Chris recognized that he dissented from Christian community in his young adult life where everyone was thinking the same way – Chris felt excluded, so he left. Now, in music, he’s found a new community where everyone thinks the same, so still certain people are excluded. He talks about how the pandemic helped further shape those feelings about exclusionary community. We also get into a riveting conversation about Chris’ thoughts on writing simple pop music and one of his deepest passions: wine. 


Watchhouse Found New Rituals Amid the Push and Pull of Change

Chances are you’ve cultivated a few personal routines to help you navigate the world: one for daily life, one for weekly, monthly, and so on. There’s also likely a handful of individual habits that affect how you choose to go about your routine. The former, at times, can influence the latter, fitting within each other like a pair of nesting dolls, adjacent and similar in their roles.

Then there are rituals. Though these three recurring sets of actions – routines, habits, and rituals – would seem like easily overlapping bedfellows, rituals carry an intrinsic quality the other two lack: mindfulness. Rituals bear a sense of intention like the other two, but it’s often coupled with an element of symbolism or custom. It’s not just a matter of doing something and saying it’s done; there are other connotations or expectations that may influence why doing it matters.

Holding this notion in mind, it’s Rituals that Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz of North Carolina duo Watchhouse have decided to name their new album. Through its 11 tracks, the married musicians posit an abundance of questions and actions, their contemplations placed in settings that are as clear as a simple back porch and as abstract as a space “through the looking glass,” “beyond this to and fro.” Settings that exist outside of not only any kind of routine, but separate from time and space all together.

Though Watchhouse’s new writings don’t seem to present rituals in their conventional form, the title still feels wholly appropriate. Marlin and Frantz’s reflections, wistful pining, and open-ended ruminations don’t lead to a sense of clear, expected structure that rituals would traditionally provide, but each song is lined with an abundance of intention, mindfulness, and hope for various outcomes. Sometimes these are overtly stated – Oh, I’m dreaming of a life with you in the sun/ And I hope our time together has only just begun… – and sometimes they are dressed in metaphors: Go fire your cannonball, go and fire away/ When the ashes fall we’ll start a brand new day.

There are defined ideas that Watchhouse put forth on the album: identity and awareness, the distinction between patterns and truths, how to develop a positive relationship with change, and what it means to evolve. All the same, while our internal responses to these songs may change over time, the very act of revisiting, replaying, and reconsidering their meanings, and how we are affected by them, can be a form of ritual in its own way.

Amid an extensive tour that will take them all over the U.S. and into Canada through summer and fall, Watchhouse spoke with BGS about their collaborative dynamic, how their individual artistic instincts influence the direction of a song, and the prevalence of duality in the album – as well as in their lives.

It’s been about four years since your last album and eight years since both your lives changed from bandmates to family. Given that Rituals focuses on patterns and the perception of change on our lives, how has the ever-growing longevity of your union in marriage — and all the ways marriage transforms a relationship on its own — changed the way you perceive and interact with the music making process?

Andrew Marlin: When you hit the road and join forces with other people to play music, it’s kind of like stepping outside of the norm and stepping outside of the daily life to go up there and almost take on a role or take on a character in order to get inside the music. You kind of just forget everything that the day often requires of you, because all of a sudden those requirements aren’t there. It’s just the stage and the music and the people that are there rooting for you to go deep, you know?

I think finding that zone with Emily has had its challenges in the past, because we’re so closely tied to each other. We raise kids together and we live together, and so doing all this traveling together and playing music together too, it makes it harder – or made it harder for me at the beginning, I think – to leave the daily routine and expectations behind on stage and just shed all of that and take on that character. It’s one thing to look at your bandmates’ eyes and get a little nod or whatever’s happening during the music. It’s kind of like this understanding of, “I’m not here right now. This is just me playing music.”

Getting to that zone with Emily, now that we’re 16 years into it, has taken a while to get to that point to where it’s an acceptance of all of it, instead of just leaving things behind to get on stage. It’s like we’re carrying all of it with us at all points in time. People that come to see us get a real and honest version of ourselves, trying to go deep in the music but also being completely aware of each other too.

Emily Frantz: I was just thinking about how much things changed in 2020 and 2021, living our mundane day-to-day lives in our house, and the transition back into being on the road again and touring. We’ve obviously been doing that for a few years now since COVID, but that experience made us relearn what the relationship is between our daily life at home and touring and [figuring out] how can they coexist in a healthy way.

Ironically, the album’s opening track, “Shape,” avoids the traditional shape or structure of a song (all verses, no chorus) while the actual narrative of the song embraces ideas that lean into a sense of purgatory and a nebulous state of being — the very opposite of what would help establish a sense of shape, boundaries, identity, direction, patterns, or truths. What were the mental and emotional motivations that inspired you to take the song in this direction?

AM: It’s like establishing the shape or the pattern in order to separate yourself from it. That’s what a lot of those verses are doing, kind of outlining the things that often make me feel like I’m in a box and I’m trying to get outside of that box. The only way to do it – because there’s no real form to it – is to imagine the parameters, imagine the spaces that it ends up kind of confining you in, in order to step outside of those [boxes]. I think that was the intention with “Shape.”

EF: And the way that “Shape” came into its final form, at least final the way it appears on the record, was a lot of the things that you said about it: It didn’t ever really conform and it got rearranged and had things added and taken away from it so many times, a lot more so than other songs. But it always did feel like the backbone of this record in a lot of ways, which is why it felt really right as the opening track of this record.

AM: If there was a shape to define that song, I’d say it’s a spiral.

 

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How have you fit rituals into your lives and have they helped you maintain a sense of stable continuity as a family and as musicians?

AM: I feel like since having kids, the day has taken so much more form. Because I think that, and Emily [is] really brilliant about this, giving structure to the day is super helpful for them. So that they don’t have to wonder what’s happening, so that they can really pay attention to what is happening. I’ve watched both of our kids blossom in that environment. Emily’s really good about helping to create that and make sure we stick to it. Carrying that on the road has been really helpful, too and something that I didn’t realize I was going to benefit very much from. Because I definitely, when left to my own devices, am like a sheet left out to dry – just flapping in the wind. To have a little bit of structure to the day, and have to enter into these mental zones with the kiddos, has added a lot of mental structure to my existence. I think that’s the biggest thing for me.

And within that, it’s about realizing what the day actually requires of me, instead of what I imagined today to be expecting of me. Finding those real anchors and a little more gravity to the things I’m working on have helped me shed old expectations of myself and what I think I’m supposed to be doing. I think that’s what led us to be okay with changing the band name and changing up some of the sounds and approaching this thing we’ve been doing for a long time in a whole new way.

EF: I think the thing that we are [focusing on] 16 years in is finding where the balance is between freedom and artistic expression, and also just daily life and figuring out how to have those two things like coexist and make each other better and not be in a constant sort of push and pull.

The first verse in “Beyond Meaning” is intriguing. The statement of your “gentle” disposition is nice, but its seemingly conditional nature gives pause — particularly when considering that life is noisy and out of our control more often than not. What is it that you’re trying to say about your own identity and awareness of how you cope with the noise and bustle of everyday living?

AM: I feel like what I was getting at is to view it as though it’s external noise. But it’s actually internal noise. That’s often the thing that keeps me from my peace and keeps me from being gentle. It’s my own defenses and my own self-consciousness that end up creating all of this noise. It paints the external noise in a negative light. When I can control that and remember to keep my own defenses at bay and be open and actually present, the idea that maybe this external noise is not a malicious one keeps me gentle and then often what comes from that is a gentle interaction. So it’s more about controlling the internal noise in order to actually experience the external factors.

Out of the 11 songs on the album, Emily is the primary vocalist only for “Firelight.” Why was Emily the right fit to sing the story of this one song? And more broadly, what went into your shared thought process on when, and for how long, you two would sing together? Is it a purely harmony and arrangement-based decision, or do the emotions of a song influence how each vocal arrangement is structured?

EF: A lot of times it can be pretty cut and dry. If we’re deciding who should sing lead on a song, it might just have to do with the range or the key, where we think it sounds good. Sometimes that plays into it maybe even more than the lyrics or the subject matter. With Andrew doing the songwriting, he’s always been more of the primary lead vocalist. Oftentimes, by the time we’re arranging a tune and finding out how we want to present it, it’s very cemented in his voice. But then a lot of times, there will be tunes that we’re struggling with and we’re not quite finding it. By switching out who’s singing, it reframes the whole song and allows us to not just change the lead vocalist, but to find a whole different zone for the song in terms of what we hear and how it gets arranged and recorded. That was the case with “Firelight.” We had so many different versions of that song over the years leading up to recording – different time signatures, different instrumentation – and that was one of the last ones that came together for this album. Most of it got done after the initial tracking session because we were searching on it for a long time and I think I like it more and more the longer I sit with it, the more I hear it.

AM: Often people do want to know why Emily’s not singing more tunes or why the roles are what they are. But I think it’s really important to shine a little light on what Emily does behind the scenes when she’s not singing. The way she plays rhythm and plays violin or whatever instrument she’s on, it ends up being this anchor for everyone in the band. The way that offers complete structure to what we’re doing and allows everything else to sway around that a little bit, I feel like even when she’s not singing, her musical voice is such a strong presence in the music. I’ve heard her say this before, like when she’s playing violin, she’d rather not sing lead because it’s almost like having to sing with two voices. That became part of the structure of what we’ve been doing all along, not just with the lead vocal. The feel of the song and the rhythm and the chord structure and the flow of it all often is hinged on what Emily ends up doing. I think that’s just as important as her taking a lead vocal.

EF: I’ve really, over the years of us playing music together, come around to enjoying singing lead when we find the song that feels good in my range. But for the most part, I’d rather be singing harmony to Andrew and that definitely brings me just as much, if not more, fulfillment than singing lead on a song.

Endless Highway (Pt. 1)” and “Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” leave a much heavier state of reflection than that of “Patterns,” the song you chose as the album’s finale. Were the lighter tone of the music and the lyrics a driving factor for why these last three songs are in this order? Did you want to avoid an ending that leaves the listener with a more uncertain emotional state?

AM: I’ll start off by saying Ryan Gustafson, who produced this record with us, actually ended up coming up with this track order. Having not listened to it that way and then taking Ryan’s perspective on it, it was like being able to listen to these songs in their entirety for the first time. All of a sudden, I was getting feelings from these recordings that I hadn’t gotten yet.

“Endless Highway (Pt. 1)” is a heavier song and talks about a really traumatic event that Emily and I went through and that long drone at the end of it kind of dances around the dread of that. Then into “Sway,” it’s more of a coming out of that [feeling]. How do we peek our heads out of the hole once we’ve gone down and slowly crawl back out? To finally get into “Endless Highway (Pt. 2),” where it feels like a real revelation and a real triumphant part of the record? So, you get to the top of the mountain on this song. But I do believe that while those revelations come, we get to the top of those mountains, everything’s clear, and there’s so much lightness and clarity around us, we still have to wake up the next morning, make coffee, make breakfast, get kids to school, go and run errands and carry that little mountain of revelation with us everywhere we go.

I think that the heaviness and the profoundness of that idea ends up giving way to these smaller, mundane parts of our life. That’s what “Patterns” feels like to me. It’s an admission that if we can hold on to those little revelations and the clarity they offered us, hopefully it’ll keep us light by offering us that little reminder of hope.

EF: Going back to what Andrew was just saying about having these big events or these heavy, emotional things happen, and then having to go on with our lives, and the push and pull of that – there’s frustration and beauty in it. I love the order of those [last few] tracks, because I feel both the “Endless Highways” and “Sway” are songs that were written in the middle of this album being written and there’s a lot of anguish from a lot of different sources in those songs. And then “Patterns” was the last song that was written for the album before we recorded it, so it feels like it has a certain clarity to it. Going down in the trench and making your way back up, even though it’s still really just posing a lot of the same questions [as the beginning of the album], but from a more settled state of mind.

What truths about yourselves and how you view the world have you discovered and accepted since finishing Rituals? How many of the questions you’ve posed through these songs do you feel you’ve managed to settle on answers for?

AM: I don’t think I would often look closely enough at how I was making a person feel, as much as I would look at the way the person was. I think that’s becoming more of my truth these days, just to trust that showing up open-minded with awareness and consciousness, focused on experiencing rather than projecting, is probably the closest to any truths that have come out of writing these songs and getting to the end of this record. The takeaway is that it’s not like we found answers, necessarily.

EF: It’s all just a pursuit, always.

AM: You know, it’s not always about finding answers. It’s about finding out–

AM/EF: It’s figuring out what the question is.


Photo Credit: Jillian Clark

Explore more of our Artist of the Month coverage here.

Basic Folk: Dar Williams (Reissue)

(Editor’s Note: Welcome to our Reissue series! For the next several weeks, Basic Folk is digging back into the archives and reposting some of our favorite episodes alongside new introductions commenting on what it’s like to listen back. Enjoy!)

Dar Williams, originally from Mount Kisco, New York, grew up in an era and a household where everyone was tearing down the old ways of doing things, and learning new ways of expressing themselves. For Williams this meant participating in theater and learning to play instruments. She attended Wesleyan University where she studied theater and religion. A deep engagement with matters of the heart and spirit continues to permeate her work today.

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After college Dar found herself in Boston, immersed in the singer-songwriter scene. She wrote and released her album The Honesty Room, which changed everything. That album started her on a path to becoming a venerated performer in the folk space. She was on the original Lilith Fair lineup, which included too many musical legends to name here. It was a dream come true to talk with Dar about that experience, about what it might take for another Lilith Fair to happen, and about the current climate for women in the music industry.

Dar’s latest album, I’ll Meet You Here, was released on October 1, 2021. This beautiful collection of songs was mostly recorded pre-COVID, but then hit a number of road bumps on its way to release. It deals with time, acceptance, places, and small towns, topics about which Dar Williams is a master storyteller.


Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

Basic Folk: John Hiatt (Reissue)

(Editor’s Note: Welcome to our Reissue series! For the next several weeks, Basic Folk is digging back into the archives and reposting some of our favorite episodes alongside new introductions commenting on what it’s like to listen back. Enjoy!)

In 2021, John Hiatt released Leftover Feelings (which is still his latest album, by the way), a collab with bluegrass great Jerry Douglas as producer and his band as backup. Hiatt’s digging into some serious past memories for these songs, which include one about his older brother, Michael. Michael died by suicide when John was only nine and it’s only recently that he chose to write about the experience with the track, “Light of the Burning Sun.” Jerry knew that the material was very serious and approached it lovingly with John and band. On Basic Folk, John expands on his grief and talks about giving himself the time and space to mourn. We also chat about the importance of radio in John’s young life: he would listen to WLAC from Nashville as a kid around 11 years old. There was a gospel show on Sunday night and the station would go to a different Black church every week to broadcast services. As
Hiatt has said, “Those gospel shows used to scare the shit out of me.” That opened his world to a completely different way to relate to music, in terms of faith.

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Hiatt picked up the guitar at 11 years old, partially to cope with the trauma resulting from being an overweight child. This was especially hard because he was a bigger kid at a time when it was rare for a child to be heavier. He discusses how music and, surprisingly, drugs and alcohol helped him overcome his weight issue. Then, of course, the drugs and alcohol led him to new problems in his adult years, requiring overcoming that addiction to live a sober life. John also talks about his kids, which includes musician Lilly Hiatt. Lilly said in an interview once, “I was crying over the fact that my career seemed stalled and I wasn’t the flavor of the month, and Dad said, ‘Lilly, we will never be hip. We’re just not those people.’”

John Hiatt has been a steadfast songwriter since the ’70s who’s written many well-loved songs such as “Have a Little Faith in Me,” “Cry Love,” and, of course, “Thing Called Love.” The writing on Leftover Feelings spans several decades and confronts some of his most vulnerable feelings. To be able to talk to John Hiatt about this project was a sincere privilege and we hope you enjoy!


Photo Credit: Patrick Sheehan

Kieran Kane & Rayna Gellert Let Their Music “Be What It Wants to Be”

Volume 4 is a beginning and end for Kieran Kane & Rayna Gellert. It’s a beginning in that it’s the duo’s newest release, which means new songs, a new tour cycle, and a new round of interviews. It’s an end – “the end of an era,” as they put it – for Dead Reckoning Records, the label Kane and his bandmates in The Dead Reckoners launched 30 years ago. The independent venture grabbed the attention of other artists whose recordings they released, in addition to The Dead Reckoners’ first and only album, A Night of Reckoning, and the band members’ various other projects.

“Over the 30 years, [The Dead Reckoners] drifted into their own worlds, their own lanes,” says Kane. “Tammy Rogers and the late Mike Henderson started doing The SteelDrivers, Harry Stinson has been with Marty Stuart for years, and Kevin Welch is in Australia. For a long time, I was just putting out my solo records on the label, and then Rayna and I put our records out.

“30 years seemed like a nice, round, anniversary number to give everybody their work back, their masters back, and dissolve the company. It’s been great. I’m quite proud of the work we’ve done over the years and that it’s still a functioning label. We’ve managed to survive all kinds of digital flare-ups and breakthroughs and ways of sharing music. The company makes a little bit of money every year, but it seemed like, ‘Yeah, let’s call it a day.’ I called everyone and everybody was like, ‘That’s fine.’”

Bringing Dead Reckoning Records full circle is sweet rather than bittersweet, says Kane, “in that the label was started by an album of mine [Dead Rekoning, 1995] and thirty years later, on the same date [April 11], we released Volume 4. To me, it serves as bookends for the label.”

Gellert and Kane met at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in San Francisco. Their first collaboration was co-writing for Kane’s Unguarded Moments [2016] and Gellert’s Workin’s Too Hard [2017]. The following year, they released their first duo album, The Ledges, followed by When The Sun Goes Down [2019], and The Flowers That Bloom In Spring [2022]. This year brings Volume 4, which they produced, recorded, and mixed, with Kane on vocals and guitars, Gellert on vocals, guitar, and fiddle, and Kane’s son Lucas on drums.

I thought we’d start by introducing you to readers, but instead of telling us about yourselves, tell us about each other.

Rayna Gellert: Kieran is a multi-instrumentalist and songwriter with a long, awesome career doing all kinds of musical things ever since he was a child. The thing that other musicians immediately say about him is they comment on his sense of groove that seems to be a through line in his musical output. And he’s awesome. He’s the funnest person to write and perform with.

Kieran Kane: Musically, we are so much on the same path, and have been on the same path, for both our individual lines. But out of all the people that I’ve ever worked with, Rayna, in the same way she talks about groove when talking about me, I would have to say the same thing about her, in that it’s just so … I want to say reliable, and that sounds sort of pedestrian, but it is.

It’s like having a drummer and a bass player playing the fiddle, in that the pockets and the grooves are so strong and well established that I can drift away and they’re just there. And it’s all been unusually compatible in writing and playing and performing. We genuinely enjoy doing what we do together. It’s a lot of fun, and it’s creatively fulfilling, and all those things.

Rayna, in an interview with WYSO you mentioned there are differences in your songwriting processes. Could you tell us about those differences and how they work as a duo?

RG: Kieran’s the first person I’ve consistently co-written with. I mostly wrote on my own. I occasionally noodled around with a friend on something, but I had no consistent co-writer. I was very much a newbie to actual co-writing when Kieran and I started writing together.

He approaches songwriting from a completely different angle than I do and that makes it extra fun and adventurous. I’ve always started with some bit of lyric and melody that come at the same time together and I go from there. Kieran usually starts with some kind of instrumental riff that becomes the seed of a structure of something. Lyrics come later for him.

The combination of the way we come at a song is very compatible because it’s different. We bring different strengths to the table. I tend to be super verbose when it comes to lyrics. I spill a lot of stuff out, and he’s a great editor. He is really good at finding the key phrases, figuring out the hook, and creating a structure around that.

My background is in old-time music, so the idea of a long ballad where there’s no chorus and it’s just inspiration that goes on and on and on is totally normal to me. For Kieran, it’s like, “What’s the hook? What’s the chorus? What’s the instrumental riff that’s going to tie the thing together?” And it works together very well.

KK: I agree with that. A lot of times what I’m hearing, along with a song, is a record. So much of what we do is based on an intro, in a way, or, as she said, a little musical hook that’ll tie things down. I’ve almost never sat down with an idea about a song. It’s more like I sit down and start playing banjo or mandolin or guitar until something catches my ear and then a lyric will be a free association to get started.

With us, that’s true to some extent, as well. A lot of times we don’t know what the song is going to be about until we wade into the waters and go, “Oh, it could be this.” It seems to work. Whatever the two different approaches are, it comes together.

How is Volume 4 the next step in your journey? You’ve talked about the songwriting process. When it’s time to record, do the arrangements happen organically?

RG: His view of the song tends to be a little more zoomed out than mine. What he’s saying … he is not just thinking about the song, he’s thinking about the record – I think that’s about arrangement. That’s about, “How are the pieces fitting together here?”
It does evolve organically. We always have to decide, “What’s the instrumentation? What feels right for this? Am I playing guitar? Am I playing fiddle?” If he comes up with a riff on an instrument, usually it stays on that instrument. But we’re working with so few pieces that we make a lot of use of space, because that’s one of the biggest colors in our palette.

KK: A way for us to build things in terms of arrangements often – since, as Rayna said, there’s so few pieces – is to eliminate something, like, “We’ll drop out here, which will bring the song down,” because if we start off with the two of us singing and playing at the same time, there’s no place to go, other than to start removing things.

As I’m saying this, I realize that my mission, if there is such a thing, in writing and making records has always been about removing things, making it simpler, and cutting off all the fat, anything that’s unnecessary.

RG: One of the things that’s different about this project is, in a way, we approached the whole album sort of like we would approach a song, as in letting it be what it wanted to be.

On past albums, we approached it more like we were writing a set list for a show, where it’s, “Have we included different instrumentation? Do we have a balance of lead singers? Do we have uptempo and downtempo?” This album is structured more like the way we write a song, which is, “What does this want to be?” Regardless of instrumentation, regardless of who’s singing, regardless of whether we wrote the songs. It evolved into this little sonic package that feels like you go in there and it’s a room you hang out in for the length of the album. To me, that’s a different experience than our past records.

KK: I’ve never thought of it like that. Yeah. We’ve been writing a lot. We wrote three albums, I did an EP that we had written a couple of songs for, and Rayna did an EP that I helped out on a couple of songs and produced. So we’ve done a lot of work in the last eight years, or however it is, that we’ve been doing this. Before Volume 4, there were three albums and two EPs, which is a lot more work than I’ve ever done in that amount of time.

This record, to me, was a little bit more of a grab-back in a way. Rayna was talking about wanting to do a fiddle album at some point and I was like, “Let’s play more fiddle tunes.” So we did that and pulled some older songs that were, as Rayna was saying, “Let’s just do it.” In my mind, it’s almost cleansing in a way to have taken this “just let it be what it wants to be” approach. Now we can move on to something else … and I don’t know what that is.

Tell us about the recording process and gear choices on this album.

RG: We have a very simple home recording setup that we’ve refined over the years. We got some good mics that we like a lot a couple years ago, Soyuz mics. We use those for everything, for instruments and vocals, the same mics. We have four of those.
We have a Zoom R16 board that we can either record directly onto or use as an input into Logic for recording. It’s a very mobile rig. We spend our summers in the Adirondacks at a cabin and we do a lot of recording when we’re up there. Some of this album was recorded there and some of it was recorded here in Nashville, in our house. We can take the board with us and do a nice, clean, digital field recording.

KK: It’s a wonderful piece of gear and shockingly inexpensive. As far as instruments and things like that, this record is a departure for me in terms of guitars, because I’ve basically used the same Guild M-20 on every record and every show I’ve done with Rayna, and before that for the last twenty-five years. For some reason, on this record, I picked up a couple of different guitars that I’ve had lying around the house for years. It was like, “Let me try this song on this guitar. Oh, that’s fun.” Whether or not I would do that again, I don’t know, because the guitar I’ve used all those years I love and it’s so reliable.

There’s three different acoustic guitars for me on this record. One is a Martin 00-16 classic, an early-’60s gut-string guitar that I played on “Keep My Heart in Mind.” The other is an early-’60s D-28 that I played on “The Mansion Above.” The other guitar songs are all on the Guild M-20. Rayna played the same guitar that she’s been using, an early D-28.

Last year, I was listening to a lot of ’60s folk music. I was listening to Gordon Lightfoot, Ian & Sylvia, Bob Dylan, and things like that, and hearing these really simple guitars where there’s no real guitar solos or anything like that. “I Can’t Wait” fits into that mold – as does “Keep My Heart in Mind,” and “Imagine That” – in that there’s no solos, but there’s a repetitive musical vein that goes through it all. It’s just two people playing guitars and singing. It’s that simple, which is something that really appeals to me.

Is it accurate to say there’s a connecting thread of faith in some of these songs?

KK: Yeah, I think that maybe is a thread through it.

RG: Not from that specific angle, but we definitely talked about hoping that people, in listening to the album, felt comforted.

KK: “I Can’t Wait,” to me, is very much is about faith – not in a religious way, but in a general sense of hope. As bad as things are right now, I remain hopeful and I keep looking towards the light. I’m aware of the dark, profoundly aware of the dark, but I don’t think that’s the end. I think there’s light as well and there’ll be more light as time goes by.

There are a couple of songs, specifically “Whatcha Gonna Do About It” and “Short Con,” that people could easily interpret as political – and they are. There’s no doubt about that. “Short Con” we look at as written from the standpoint of the Constitution. It’s like, “Why don’t you believe in me now?” There are other songs we have that certainly people have told us, “We’re not interested in your political views.” There’s a few floating around that just turn out … it’s not like we sit down and try and write about politics, or faith, for that matter. It’s just where our mental space is at the time.

You can look at these new songs as being political, but we’ve started thinking about them as being patriotic. It’s patriotic to stand up and say, “No, you can’t do that. You can’t just pull someone out of their car and throw them in a jail in El Salvador or whatever.” That’s not a political statement to me and I think for us at this point, as much as it is a patriotic statement, it’s our duty as citizens to say something. We’re given that right and we’re taking advantage of it.

And then something like “The Mansion Above,” which I wrote fifty years ago, somehow fits in there. There is a thread between those songs. So yeah, I think to see a line through of faith is good.

You’ve mentioned before that you’re doing what you call “three-day-weekend touring.” What are your upcoming “weekend” plans?

RG: Our approach to touring is very chill. We do two or three dates in a row, sometimes just one-offs. That’s our usual mode. I think the most we’ve ever done in a row is four dates. It’s all compact and it’s all about being humane and kind to ourselves.

KK: We have a good time. We have a comfortable car, I do all the driving and Rayna does all the navigating and mans the phone. I like to get onstage and play, but I don’t think either one of us wants to go, “Let’s book a month.” I look at other people’s schedules sometimes and go, “I remember doing things like that,” but I wouldn’t want to do it again.

We are gentle on ourselves. Our performances– we’ve cut that down in the sense that we don’t use any monitors onstage. We sit as close as humanly possible together and still be able to move the instruments around. Sound people really like us because sound people hate monitors. You say, “No monitors,” they rejoice. Doing it that way, if a soundcheck takes more than 15 minutes, we’re in trouble. Two instrument mics, two vocal mics, no monitors. “Can you hear us? Great. We’re done.” It makes life simpler.

RG: So yes, we do have gigs. There’s some stuff for the summer that will be posted on our website and I’m working on fall right now.

KK: And we are open to offers.

RG: Yes, we’re always happy to hear from venues!


Photo courtesy of the artist.

Basic Folk: Anaïs Mitchell (Reissue)

(Editor’s Note: Welcome to our Reissue series! For the next several weeks, Basic Folk is digging back into the archives and reposting some of our favorite episodes alongside new introductions commenting on what it’s like to listen back. Enjoy!)

Listening back, I feel like this 2018 interview with Anaïs Mitchell holds up. Originally published on January 10, 2019, Hadestown was about to debut on Broadway, the pandemic was still over a year away, and we were young and full of autumn. Our Basic Folk interview includes a really interesting discussion about feminism (with just one squeamish reference to fourth-wave being about “non-binary” from yours truly. Eeek!). Anaïs talks about her childhood on a sheep farm in Vermont. She unpacks her love for and loyalty in her collaborations and the mystical way she found her visual artist (Peter Nevins) for Hadestown.

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We also talk about Hadestown receiving some “viral” attention in 2016, thanks to a Tr*mp campaign promise to build a wall on the southern border. People latched onto her 2006-penned song, “Why We Build the Wall,” which is one of the pinnacle tracks from the Tony Award-winning Broadway musical. Anaïs opens up about how she met her husband, Noah Hahn, and her early musical beginnings in Boston at Club Passim.

This episode was recorded just as Hadestown was set to open at the Walter Kerr Theatre on Broadway in March 2019. This was also a year before her band, Bonny Light Horseman, would release their debut album. I’m proud of our conversation, which includes some chiming in from Anaïs’ guitarist Austin Nevins, who was on tour with her at the time of the recording. We three are old friends and we were trying to record the interview and hang out at the same time. I’ll leave it up to you to decide if we succeeded!


Photo Credit: Mitchell Shervin

Violinist and Singer-Songwriter Anne Harris “Brings Things Up a Level” with New Album

Anne Harris is having a moment. Though many people (this writer included) are just finding out about this Midwestern violin virtuoso this year, she has been making records since 2001. With her new album, I Feel It Once Again (released May 9), Harris decided, in her words, to “bring things up a level.”

Not only is the disc getting rave reviews, it marks the first-ever violin commission in America between two Black women – Harris and luthier Amanda Ewing. The 10 songs on I Feel It Once Again range from traditionals like “Snowden’s Jig” and the closer “Time Has Made A Change” to originals like “Can’t Find My Way” and the project’s title track. Throughout, Harris remains impressive in both her vocals and her violin playing. The album was produced by Colin Linden who has worked with Bob Dylan, Rhiannon Giddens, Bruce Cockburn, and many others.

Harris is currently based in Chicago, but was actually born in rural Ohio. She took to music at a very young age, inspired by her parents’ record collection. After attending the University of Michigan’s School of Music, Harris moved to Chicago, where she delved into the city’s theater and music scenes. Now, she is about to tour with Taj Mahal and Keb’ Mo’ this summer. BGS had the pleasure of catching up with Anne Harris for a conversation about the new album, her Amanda Ewing-built violin, her influences and inspirations, and more.

To start, tell me where and when I Feel It Once Again was recorded.

Anne Harris: I did the record in Nashville. Coming out of the pandemic, I had been writing and I felt like I had a collection of songs – a pool of things that I wanted to be on my next record. I wanted to work with a producer, [but] I wasn’t sure who to work with. All my prior records had just been basement records, basically. Nothing wrong with that, but I wanted to bring things up a level. A friend of mine, Amy Helm – who is an amazing singer-songwriter in her own right – recommended Colin Linden to me.

Colin is Canadian born and raised. Incredible multi-instrumentalist [and] producer that’s made Nashville his home for many years now. Anyone [Amy] recommends I’m gonna listen to. So I started listening to some of the records he made. I got in touch with Colin and sent him, in really rough form, a big basket of songs I was considering. He really loved them and wanted to work on the record. We got the basic core of the record laid down in about a week of intense recording in Nashville and finished up with a few things remotely after that.

Is it true that you first picked up the violin as a kid after watching Fiddler on the Roof?

Yeah! My Mom took my sister and I to see the movie version of Fiddler on the Roof when we were little; I was around three. I was born and raised in Yellow Springs, Ohio. I remember being at this movie theater in Dayton for a matinee. I remember the picture of the screen – you know, this opening scene where Isaac Stern is in silhouette on a rooftop playing the overture. And [my mother] said I stood up, pointed at the screen, and yelled – as loud as I could – “Mommy! That’s what I wanna do!” She was like, “Okay, you gotta sit down and be quiet.”

She thought [it was] maybe a passing thing and that I was caught up in the drama of the music. [But] I just kept bugging her about it. So she let me do a couple of early violin camp kind of things here and there. I just had this intensity about wanting to really study it. So when I turned eight, I started studying privately with a teacher. Suzuki and classical training was sort of my background.

Tell me about the title track, which is also right in the middle of the album. What inspired “I Feel It Once Again?”

A couple of years ago, [my] friend Dave Hererro – who is a Chicago based blues guitar player. Sometimes he’ll come up with a little riff and send it my way and say, “What do you think of this?” He sent me this guitar riff, which is kind of the through line of that song. I heard it and immediately the whole song and story unfolded in my head. I wrote [it] around that guitar riff in, like, one session. I did a demo and I played it for Dave. I’m like, “Dude! I love this so much.” He’s like, “Well, do whatever you want with it!”

Writing is an interesting thing. I’m not super prolific. I’m not one of those people that’s like, “I journal every day for 13 hours!” [Laughs] You know? [I don’t] have a discipline or method other than trying to stay open to inspiration and committing to it when it happens.

[That] was the case with that song. I had the story and a picture in my mind of what that song about. Somebody musing over a loss. You know, it’s twilight and they’re finishing a bottle of wine and mourning the loss of this great love. One part of you is fine when it’s daytime and you can put on a face and you’re going about your business. But then when the curtain comes down, behind that curtain is this loss and this mourning. That’s what that song is about.

Everything looks different at 4am, doesn’t it? [Laughs]

I [also] wanted to ask you about “Snowden’s Jig.” That’s a type of music I know virtually nothing about. I know it’s a traditional.

Yes. “Snowden’s Jig” is a tune that I learned from the Carolina Chocolate Drops record Genuine Negro Jig. It was my gateway into the Carolina Chocolate Drops. I was doing errands somewhere and I had NPR on and [they] were a feature story. And it was just this mind-blowing thing.

Joe Thompson [has] been deceased for a while now. But he was one of the last living fiddlers in the Black string band tradition. They would go to his porch, learn tunes from him, and learn the history of Black string band tradition. That’s sort of how they started their group. [“Snowden’s Jig”] was on that record and they learned it from Joe.

Part of my mission as an artist is to be a bridge of accessibility through my instrument, the violin, to the Black fiddle tradition. There was a time during slavery days when the fiddle and banjo were the predominant instruments among Black players. Guitars were sort of a rarity. That was when string band music was really at its height. North New Orleans was the sort of center of Black fiddle playing. Often time, enslavers would send their enslaved people down to New Orleans to learn how to play fiddle and then come back to the plantation to entertain for white parties and balls.

You’re based in Chicago. It’s a big music city. How has living in Chicago informed your music?

Chicago is known as a workingman’s city, a working class city. There’s something very grounded about Chicago in general and that’s the reputation it has. I’m a Midwestern person [anyway], from Ohio originally. There’s something about us in the Midwest. You know, we’ll never be as cool as New York or LA! But we work our asses off. I feel that translates into the artists in this town. It’s really a place where it’s about the work.

This album apparently marks the first violin commission between two Black women. Yourself and Amanda Ewing?

Correct. Amanda Ewing. It’s the very first professional violin commission that’s been recognized in an official capacity. Amanda has a certificate from the governor of Tennessee – she’s a Nashville resident – citing her as the first Black woman violin luthier in the country.

When I first saw Amanda, it was online. The algorithm basically brought her to my phone. I saw a picture of this beautiful Black woman in a work coat, holding the violin and I about lost my mind. I was so blown away and inspired. I read her story and got in touch with her and told her, “I have to have you make a violin for me. I have to own a violin that was made by the hands of somebody that looks like me.” It never occurred to me, in all my years of playing, what the hands of the maker of my instrument might look like. That’s not an uncommon thing, but it’s sort of sad! It would never occur to me that a Black woman would be an option.

So as soon as I met her, we embarked on a commission that was funded by GoFundMe. She decided she wanted to make two [violins] so that I would have a choice. They were completed in February, a couple of months ago. [One violin] will make its official debut for a public audience on the 23rd of May. I’m gonna be playing at the Grand Ole Opry with Taj Mahal and Keb’ Mo’. I’m going on tour with them.

It’s funny, I was gonna ask you next about that tour! I noticed you had some upcoming tour dates with Taj and Keb’. I wanted to ask your thoughts on that and maybe what people can look forward to on this tour.

A friend of mine is Taj Mahal’s manager and she’s also good friends with Keb’. She said that Kevin [Keb’] had approached her looking for a violinist player for this upcoming tour. They have a new record out as TajMo called Room On The Porch. It’s their second under that moniker and it’s an amazing collaboration. Two iconic figures making beautiful music together. So she recommended me and [Keb’] had seen me before – I think when I was touring with Otis Taylor years ago. He called me and you know I’ll keep that voicemail forever!

As far as what to look forward to, it’s gonna be amazing. The opportunity to work with luminaries… I’m gonna be the biggest sponge, soaking up all of the knowledge from these giants. Taj has been influential to just about everyone on some level. He’s one of those people who’s worked with everybody and done so much. I’m just over the moon.


Photo Credit: Roman Sobus