8 Songs for This Exact Moment

Where do we go from here?

When you wake up in a world where hatred and fascism have been resoundingly endorsed by so many of your neighbors and fellow citizens, how do you proceed? That question becomes even more daunting at its second or third or umpteenth asking.

Yes, music will play a vital role over the next handful of years, as we continue the fight for justice, self-determination, and agency for all people, in the U.S. and around the world. But music, the arts, and creativity won’t be enough to save us. They won’t be an end-all, be-all solution to the political and cultural hurdles we will have to clear in the near future.

This is a moment that calls for so much more. Solidarity, first and foremost – the idea that, at the beginning or end of the day, all we have is each other – and community, organizing, and advocating for each other will be essential. Mutual aid will be more necessary than ever. Putting our own privilege on the line in order to protect and ensure safety for those more marginalized than ourselves is the task immediately at hand. Showing up – yes, for our country, but more importantly, for our friends and neighbors – is the very next step. Literally and figuratively.

Still, the soundtrack we will all write, that we will all curate, that we will all partake in while opposing the craven and hateful policies being proffered by our would-be dictator will be a powerful tool. Music – especially roots music, country and bluegrass, blues and old-time, folk with a lowercase and capital F, and more – are traditions steeped in populism, in worker’s rights, in justice, in standing up for the downtrodden and beleaguered. There are no better genres for this exact moment. There are no betters artists, musicians, and songs than those in and made by our very community.

BGS and Good Country include in our mission a commitment to intentionally crafting a roots music space, a bluegrass- and country-centered universe, where everyone is welcome, regardless of identity, background, nationality, ethnicity, disability, class, or belief system. We are determined to continue that work, to be a place where – hopefully – anyone and everyone can feel seen, heard, safe, and valid in their love for and appreciation of all things roots music.

As we summon courage for the work ahead and lean on our community, here are eight songs perfect for this exact moment in history, to hold up as we remind ourselves our goals are the same at the end of this week as they were at the beginning: liberty, agency, and self-determination for all. – The BGS & Good Country Team

“Mercy Now” – Mary Gauthier

A modern Americana classic, singer-songwriter Mary Gauthier shared “Mercy Now” on social media very early on Wednesday morning, after the news broke that Trump had won another term. It spread quickly on social media with many a repost and reshare. The message here, of mercy applied broadly, universally, and without qualification, is more than timely. It’s evergreen.

“Crisis” – Aoife O’Donovan

Connecting our current struggle to those of past generations is exactly how we continue to put one foot in front of the other, despite setbacks and losses and despair. Aoife O’Donovan’s latest record, All My Friends, is a perfect intergenerational connecting of the dots, centering women, girls, and femmes, and shines a light on the non-linear track that leads to victory. We know we will continue to return to this music over and over in the future, as a balm and a catalyst for progress.

And, as our friends at Basic Folk reminded us yesterday, Aoife’s and Dawn Landes’ episode of the podcast – which focuses on their similar albums centering women, feminism, and women’s issues – is an incredibly timely re-listen. Find that episode here.

“Sun to Sun” – Alice Gerrard

Looking to our roots music elders in this moment is exactly what we all need! Alice Gerrard’s most recent album, Sun to Sun, and certainly its title track, indicate a kind of perseverance and long view that we all could take on as we face the uncertain future.

With a loping, almost marching rhythm, there’s a grounded, realistic, and convicting approach here on “Sun to Sun.” While we all talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, the problems we face continue unabated and unchallenged. What will we do besides talk?

While we talk another fool goes and buys a gun…

“Listen” – Kyshona

Speaking of talking… why don’t we take a turn at listening? The challenge has been set by Kyshona, a powerful and restorative singer-songwriter and activist who channels her ancestors, connects generations, and builds community with every note and every word sung. Originally released in 2020, “Listen” is just as encouraging now as it was then, and just as indelible in its striving for a better, more compassionate world. Media, social media, and the internet all incentivize us to speak, to center ourselves, to prefer “me” and “I” over “us” and “we.” Let’s maybe listen more, instead. Especially right now.

“Beautiful” – Sam Gleaves

Appalachian singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Sam Gleaves – who was raised in southwest Virginia but now lives in eastern Kentucky – released one of the most quietly and emphatically radical queer country and old-time albums of this year, Honest. “Beautiful” is the collection’s stunner, a track about how there’s endless beauty, mystique, and life lessons to be drawn from the ways we’re all different from each other. Through the lyrics, you see the world from the eyes of a young Gleaves, singing about sights and sounds unfamiliar and foreign to a boy from the mountains, loved and cherished by his family and shown that love without question.

Seeing beauty in our differences? What a way to live…

“The Numbers” – Mipso

THE ECONOMY! THE ECONOMY! THE ECONOMY!

What about those of us for whom this economy has never worked well or fully functioned? What about the millions who can’t make ends meet right now, under blue or red presidents? From their 2023 album, Book of Fools, Mipso turn over this very question, examining how and why “The Numbers” could be soaring – hiring numbers, the stock market, crypto values, Tesla market cap – while so many are still struggling day to day.

“Put No Walls Around Your Garden” – New Dangerfield

From Black string band supergroup New Dangerfield – which features Jake Blount, Kaia Kater, Tray Wellington, and Nelson Williams – “Put No Walls Around Your Garden” is an Americana-tinged old-time number, written by Kater, with a collectivist stance and a solidarity through line. There may be instincts in the near future to revert to an “every man for himself” sort of survival strategy, but the only way we’ll get through is together. Rather than hoarding, walling ourselves off, retreating, or recoiling, now is the time to throw open our garden gates and welcome each other in. Share our abundance, work through our scarcity and lack, and care for each other’s needs – big or small.

“Trees” – Laurie Lewis

Consider the trees. Consider the birds, the rivers, the oceans, the saguaro, the pikas, the whooping cranes. Did their realities change between Tuesday and Wednesday? Is the world any less or more likely to burn, to flood, to be blown away by hurricanes and tornadoes now than on Monday? Sadly, no. The march towards climate apartheid continues entirely unfettered, regardless of who holds the White House.

Laurie Lewis, a bluegrass forebear who has carried the mantle of climate justice for her entire life, embodies trees in the title track of her latest album. She and her band show how the fight for justice – climate justice, racial justice, gender equality, LGBTQ+ rights, immigrant rights – is a fight not measured by human lifespans and human time, but against earth’s clock. The trees will continue to watch, waiting, for us to either figure it all out or to fail at our mission.

We must not fail. The work continues and we’ll be working – and singing – alongside you all, the entire way.


Photo Credit: Alice Gerrard by Libby Rodenbough.

The Way She Talks: S.G. Goodman on Weirdos, Writing, and Western Kentucky

S.G. Goodman has a lot on her mind. That much is immediately clear in the Kentucky musician’s voice, her songwriting, and throughout her new Verve Forecast debut, Old Time Feeling. Produced by Jim James of My Morning Jacket, the confessional album encapsulates her experiences on a personal level as well as the environment that’s influenced her.

Growing up a farmer’s daughter in rural Western Kentucky may not be the most common background for a musician who finds their community in a college town post-punk scene. Yet, Goodman is proof that where you come from has not much to do with fitting in. In a time where so much of our world seems polarized, Goodman — despite the way she talks — found her place in a post-punk “Mecca for weirdos.” BGS sat down with Goodman to talk about her hometown, how she encountered her tribe, and her defense of Southern people and culture.

BGS: For someone who’s never been to your Kentucky hometown, how would you describe it?

Goodman: My hometown is Hickman, Kentucky, and it’s a river town. Mark Twain described it as “a pretty town, perched on a handsome hill.” I’d say he’s right on the money. But, at the time Mark Twain was passing through, Hickman was a lot different. Now it’s a bit of a ghost town with a lot of soul. There’s no stop lights, one convenience store… it’s a beautiful place. Less than 3,000 people, but no place like home.

How did you find your community in music?

Well, I don’t live in my hometown anymore. I live in Murray, Kentucky, which is a college town, so there’s an influence of people from all over. I kinda got plugged in hanging out at a local record store in college and met some of my best friends that way. Murray is an interesting place, because a lot of people don’t think of Western Kentucky as having a thriving post-punk scene. Probably around 2010, 2011, there were a lot more shows, a lot more bands passing through. We have a really conveniently-located record store called Terrapin Station. We pass around an offering plate — bands get taken care of really well for such a small community — it’s like a true listening environment. It’s just kind of a Mecca for weirdos, where everybody is welcome. It’s not pretentious at all, perfect place to cut your teeth.

Were you already playing music at that point?

Yeah, I was. By the time I was just about to turn 19 years old I made a record, it was pop. I dropped off a bunch of copies to the record store and said, “Put one in every bag that leaves here.” That’s how I met my good friend Tim Peyton, who’s managed that store and worked at that store since he was 14 years old. Probably two years from that point, we’d be best friends, going to house shows together.

When I was 15 — I was a big athlete in school — I convinced my mother to let me not play basketball anymore so I could take music lessons. And I did for over a year, but I had to drive an hour away to take them, plus I found out I was teaching myself more than what I was learning in the classes. You know, I’d say my biggest musical influence was probably just being raised in church. I’m not a churchgoer anymore, but I could never deny the fact that going to three concerts a week was highly influential to how I view melodies and lyrics.

The opening song, “Space and Time,” seems to be saying something that’s important to you. What was on your mind as you wrote it?

That’s a special song. Being very point blank in my lyrics — when I first wrote those lyrics, I was a little unsettled by that. A friend asked me once, “Did you say everything you needed to say?” So I look at songs like that a lot now. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting people know how you feel about them and what they mean to you, just really contemplating what makes a life.

While a song like “Space & Time” is so personal, the very next track, “Old Time Feeling” is a call to action. How do those two sides of your songwriting work together and compliment each other?

A lot of people ask if I conceptualized this album before I wrote it, but I just write songs as they come to me, and try to respect them enough to see them through. If people look at this album as a moment in time over the course of my life, then they shouldn’t be shocked for me to have some political thoughts. I’m bound to walk around with my eyes open. There’s a lot of people who paved the way for artists to not just write songs about getting their heart broken. Artists are supposed to comment. How could you not? If I want to write a song about a red Corvette or something, I’ll do my best to make it a good one. But at the end of the day, I do wonder why so many artists these days aren’t commenting through their art on what’s going on in the world.

What do you remember about the recording sessions?

We did this in April 2019. The studio — it’s in Louisville, Kentucky — is called La La Land. It had been owned for years and started by a Kentucky guy named Kevin Ratterman, who’s on a lot of people’s records. He’s an amazing person, a total beam of light when he walks through the door. It was really important for me to make sure that this music was made in Kentucky, because so much of my music is about this place.

What do you want people to understand about the way it really is in the South?

I can’t speak for the South — as a writer I’m speaking from my POV — but I would say, don’t write off the South for its regressive policies. That does nothing for those who are working daily to change that. There are progressive pockets all through the South and through Kentucky who are devoting their time and their lives to make sure that their neighbors are safe and taken care of. In my opinion, America, for a very long time, has used the South as a scapegoat for a lot of its backwards problems.

Now that the album is out in the wild, what goes through your mind when you hear it?

I’m proud of it. There’s little moments — at the end of my last track (“Big Girl Now”) you can hear my drummer and friend for nearly 10 years talk at the end of the track. I’m so glad that we were all represented, and our friends were all represented, in that music. I’m not sick of listening to it. It’s not like I go out and listen to it every day, but you have to keep in mind I’m gonna be playing these songs for years. So, I better love ‘em!


Photo credit: Michael Wilson

LISTEN: Vandoliers, “Tumbleweed”

Artist: Vandoliers
Hometown: Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas
Song: “Tumbleweed”
Album: Forever
Release Date: February 22, 2019
Label: Bloodshot Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Tumbleweed’ for my father. The poor guy’s has to watch me struggle for a dream he doesn’t really understand — I travel too much, and I know it affects my health and my family. When I get home I’m a wreck most of the time; I’m tired from the long drives, late nights, and spending a month in a different bar or festival every night. But it’s a necessary evil when you’re a mid-level band that’s still cutting its teeth. The album Forever starts with a feeling of wanderlust in the lead track ‘Miles and Miles,’ about a dream of leaving my home town in hopes that I won’t be stuck in the same place the rest of my life. ‘Tumbleweed,’ then, is my return home song — but told from the perspective of my Dad, opening the door to see his son for the first time in months, beat up, broke, and tired from a long adventure. ‘A littler older and no wiser for the wear.” – Joshua Fleming, lead singer/guitar


Photo credit: Mike Brooks

BGS 5+5: AHI

Artist: AHI (pronounced “Eye”)
Hometown: Brampton, Canada
Latest album: In Our Time
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Alleycat

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Bob Marley has by far been my greatest influence. Coming from a Caribbean background (Jamaican/Trinidadian) there’s an obvious cultural connection, but for me it goes a little deeper than just music. I don’t sound like Bob, and I don’t try to, but there was a time in my life when I felt no music was satisfying in the way Bob Marley and the Wailers made me feel, so I decided that if it didn’t exist then I would create it. Bob Marley for me is like a messenger of good and an uplifting revolutionary.

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

Music is something I’ve always enjoyed and I’ve wanted to be a musician as far back as I can remember. But there really weren’t any musicians in my family so becoming a musician wasn’t really an option in my house. I come from a family of educators and I was probably going to end up being a teacher or professor myself. Writing was a big part of my childhood and my teen years so I naturally gravitated to poetry and rapping, but nothing musical other than my off-key belting as I ran through the hallways of my school.

It wasn’t until my early 20s that I decided to really focus on singing and learning how to play the guitar. Then came the moment I truly knew I was going to be a musician, while I was backpacking across Ontario and I met a kind stranger just outside of Thunder Bay who helped me realign my life and purpose. But even then I really didn’t decide to make music a serious profession until my first child turned 1, about 8 years ago. That first year of fatherhood put a lot into perspective for me, and it gave me the drive to establish myself as a credible artist.

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

I try to stay away from tough songs to write. Any song that has been really tough to write was probably scrapped and will never see the light of day. I don’t think writing a song should be a tough process; if it’s not flowing or you don’t feel like you’re making progress, then put it down.

However, of all the songs that have landed on any of my projects, I will say that “Just Pray” may have gone through the most revision. A lot of folks are going to assume the song is autobiographical, but I much rather say it’s “autobio-fictional.” I spent a lot of time with the lyrics on that one because I really wanted to draw on as much of my life as possible, so that I could sing it with a conviction and passion, but I didn’t want it to become a verbatim retelling of my childhood. So finding the right balance took a lot of edits and rewrites.

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

My career mission statement would be “When you’re walking in your purpose, the Heavens bow down to honour your footsteps.” My music career is very closely attached to my faith, values and lifestyle. A great part of my life has been focused on uncovering my purpose and that comes out in my music. What I’ve learned is that when you are working towards your goals and you’re really zoned in on your purpose, people will feel that energy coming off you and they’ll want to help you accomplish more. The coolest look in the world is when you see someone who you know is doing what they are meant to do.

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

I hope I never feel like I have to hide behind a character in a song. Whatever I write, even if it’s not about me, I want to be able to empathize with the story so much that the listen thinks I’m singing my own song. My music is the opposite of hiding behind a character. I would sooner jump into the skin of a character and try to express what they may be feeling. I want people to believe every word I say, even if I’m speaking on behalf of someone else.


Photo credit: Jess Baumung