Tag: sister rosetta tharpe

Celebrating Women’s History Month: Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Laurie Lewis, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our partnership with our friends at Real Roots Radio in Southwestern Ohio concludes as we wind down our weekly celebration of Women’s History Month. We’re proud to have brought you four collections of a variety of powerful women in bluegrass, country, Americana, folk, and elsewhere who have been featured on Real Roots Radio’s airwaves each weekday in March, highlighting the outsized impact women have on American roots music. You can listen to Real Roots Radio online 24/7 or via their FREE app for smartphones or tablets. If you’re based in Ohio, tune in via 100.3 (Xenia, Dayton, Springfield), 106.7 (Wilmington), or 105.5 (Eaton).

American roots music, historically and currently, has often been regarded as a male-dominated space. It’s certainly true of the music industry in general and these more down-home musics are no exception. Thankfully, American roots music and its many offshoots, branches, and associated folkways include hundreds and thousands of women who have greatly impacted these art forms, altering the courses of roots music history. Some are relatively unknown – or underappreciated or unsung – and others are global phenomena or household names.

Over the last few weeks, radio host Daniel Mullins, who together with BGS and Good Country staff has curated the series, has brought you just a few examples of women in roots music from all levels of notoriety and stature. Week one featured Dottie West, Gail Davies, and more. Week two shone a spotlight on Big Mama Thornton, Crystal Gayle, Rose Maddox, and more. Week three, paid tribute to Emmylou Harris, Wild Rose, Mother Maybelle, and more. This final installment of the series celebrates Laurie Lewis, the Coon Creek Girls, Amanda Smith, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Petticoat Junction, and Jeannie Seely.

Plus, you can find two playlists below – one centered on bluegrass, the other on country – with dozens of songs from countless women artists, performers, songwriters, and instrumentalists who effortlessly demonstrate how none of these roots genres would exist without women.

Laurie Lewis (b. 1950)

A GRAMMY-winning singer, songwriter, and fiddler, Laurie Lewis is a California native who has been blazing trails in bluegrass for over four decades. She became enamored with folk music after attending the Berkeley Folk Festival in her youth – she has since made an indelible mark on American roots music with her work in bluegrass and beyond!

Whether leading her band, Laurie Lewis & The Right Hands, performing solo, or collaborating with her pal Kathy Kallick – with whom she helped found the Good Ol’ Persons in 1970s, pushing norms in the process – Laurie’s soulful vocals and skilled fiddle work have made her a standout in bluegrass for a lifetime. Her songwriting paints vivid pictures of love, loss, and the land, while her honest voice pulls at the heartstrings, earning her two IBMA Female Vocalist of the Year awards.

Her recording of “Who Will Watch the Home Place” was named IBMA’s Song of the Year in 1994 and has touched hearts for generations. It’s a certified bluegrass classic and is still a staple on bluegrass radio programs. Another beloved composition, “Love Chooses You,” has been recorded by Laurie, Jeannie Kendall, Kathy Mattea, and more.

Laurie Lewis isn’t just a performer – she’s a mentor, a producer, and a keeper of the bluegrass flame, not only by encouraging the next generation of bluegrass music makers, but also by shining a light on significant voices of the past like Vern & Ray and Hazel & Alice. This West Coast bluegrass leader was honored by the IBMA with their Distinguished Achievement Award in 2024.

Suggested Listening:
“Love Chooses You”
“The Bear Song”
“I’m Gonna Be the Wind”

The Coon Creek Girls (active 1937 – 1957)

We’re heading back to the 1930s with an all-female string band that made history, the one and only Coon Creek Girls! It was 1937 when talent scout and radio pioneer John Lair formed the Coon Creek Girls for the Renfro Valley Barn Dance radio show on the airwaves of Cincinnati’s WLW. Led by the talented Lily May Ledford on banjo alongside her sister Rosie, Esther Koehler, and Evelyn Lange, these ladies brought high-energy mountain music to the masses.

Their popularity on radio brought opportunities to tour around the Midwest and even record in Chicago. They didn’t just play, they broke barriers! In 1939, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt selected the Coon Creek Girls to perform at the White House for President Franklin D. Roosevelt and the King and Queen of England. A hillbilly band of women? Unheard of at the time! But they proved talent knows no boundaries.

The Coon Creek Girls would be an influence on folks like Cathy Fink, Suzanne Edmondson (of The Hot Mud Family and Dry Branch Fire Squad), and even Pete Seeger. While the historic group would disband in the 1950s, John Lair would revive their legacy decades later by helping pull together another all-female bluegrass band to again perform at the Renfro Valley Barn Dance (which had relocated to Mount Vernon, Kentucky, becoming a popular country music tourist destination for decades). With the blessing of Lily May Ledford, this new act was called The New Coon Creek Girls and would make music consistently for nearly twenty years, helping springboard the careers of Pam Perry and Pamela Gadd (of Wild Rose), Wanda Barnett, Vicki Simmons, Deanie Richardson, Dale Ann Bradley, and more.

The Coon Creek Girls inspired generations, proving women belonged in country and bluegrass. Their legacy lives on in every banjo-pickin’ girl who follows in their footsteps!

Suggested Listening:
“Flowers Blooming In The Wildwood”
“Banjo Pickin’ Girl”

Amanda Smith (b. 1975)

Amanda Smith’s voice soars like the mountains of West Virginia from which she comes. She has been a force in the bluegrass world for years. Amanda met her husband Kenny in the mid ’90s at a Lonesome River Band concert (he was playing guitar with LRB at the time). Not only did Kenny fall in love with Amanda, but he fell in love with her voice as well.

Kenny would leave LRB at the turn-of-the-century and he and Amanda would form the renowned Kenny & Amanda Smith Band, a duo celebrated for their tight harmonies and masterful musicianship. They were named Emerging Artist of the Year by the IBMA in 2003 and they haven’t slowed down since. With a sound built on Amanda’s gripping vocals and Kenny’s exquisite guitar work, they have been a staple of the bluegrass world for nearly twenty-five years, racking up many #1 hits on bluegrass radio and frequently seen on stages across the country – both as a duo and with the Kenny & Amanda Smith Band.

Their band has also introduced bluegrass audiences to some of the top pickers of today’s generation, including Jason Davis, Zachary McLamb, Cory Piatt, and Alan Bartram (Amanda’s brother-in-law). Whether delivering beautiful ballads or bluegrass barnburners, Amanda’s voice is one of the most beloved in the genre today, leading to multiple awards, including the IBMA Female Vocalist of the Year honor in 2014. From festival stages to radio waves, Amanda Smith continues to leave a lasting mark on bluegrass.

Suggested Listening:
“Feeling of Falling”
“Mountain Top”

Sister Rosetta Tharpe (1915 – 1973)

The Godmother of Rock ‘n’ Roll, Sister Rosetta Tharpe was one of the most influential artists of the 20th century. Born in 1915, Tharpe was shredding on an electric guitar before rock even had a name! With a gospel heart and a rock and roll soul, she fused spirituals with electrifying riffs, paving the way for Chuck Berry, Elvis, and even Jimi Hendrix. Her hit, “Strange Things Happening Every Day,” was one of the first gospel songs to cross over to mainstream charts and is pointed to by many as the first rock and roll record, proving that faith and fiery licks could share the stage.

The juxtaposition of performing her powerful gospel songs in smoky barrooms is the stuff of legend. Her gospel hits like “This Train,” “Down by the Riverside,” “Up Above My Head,” and “The Lonesome Road” are still revered and helped shape the musical identity of artists as diverse as Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Tina Turner, Jerry Lee Lewis, Rhiannon Giddens, and more. Despite being a woman in a male-dominated industry, she didn’t just break barriers – she smashed them! Sister Rosetta Tharpe was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2018.

Suggested Listening:
“This Train”
“Up Above My Head”

Petticoat Junction (active 1988 – 1998)

A bluegrass festival mainstay of the ’80s and ’90s, Petticoat Junction was a popular all-female traditional bluegrass band that helped open doors for some of today’s “girl groups” like Della Mae and Sister Sadie. In fact, there are several direct connections between Sister Sadie and Petticoat Junction. Not only was Sadie banjoist Gena Britt a member of Petticoat Junction (primarily playing bass), but reigning IBMA Female Vocalist of the Year Jaelee Roberts has followed in her mother’s footsteps. Andrea Mullins Roberts was an anchor of Petticoat Junction’s sound with her rich, traditional voice and strong guitar playing before becoming a respected booking agent, manager, and behind-the-scenes businessperson in today’s bluegrass industry.

One of the most celebrated lineups of Petticoat Junction featured Robin Roller (banjo) and Gail Rudisill-Johnson (fiddle) alongside the aforementioned Andrea and Gena. This particular four-piece ensemble released a pair of great albums for Pinecastle Records in the early ’90s, in addition to touring heavily at festivals from coast-to-coast. Deriving their name from the popular ’60s sitcom (whose theme song would be a hit for Flatt & Scruggs), their heartfelt vocals and instrumental prowess shone brightly, whether on original songs or on material from the likes of Jimmy Martin, Reno & Smiley, Flatt & Scruggs, and more.

In addition to continuing to open avenues for other all-women bands, Petticoat Junction’s influence is still being felt in the 21st century as they’ve influenced acts like Flatt Lonesome and Starlett & Big John.

Suggested Listening:
“I’d Miss You”
“Lift Your Eyes To Jesus”

Jeannie Seely (b. 1940)

From the bright lights of the Grand Ole Opry to the heart of country music, today we’re tipping our hats to “Miss Country Soul,”  Jeannie Seely! Born in Pennsylvania, but a Nashville star through and through, Jeannie Seely made history in 1966 with her Grammy-winning hit “Don’t Touch Me,” an envelope-pushing and controversial song due to its featuring a woman expressing sexual desires. With her bold style, unmistakable voice, and trailblazing spirit, she became a beloved icon in country music.

Seely shattered barriers, becoming the first performer to wear a miniskirt on the Opry stage (among other fashion trends she helped bring to country music), being the first woman to host an Opry segment, and fiercely advocating for women in country. Jeannie’s also a respected country music songwriter, writing hits like “Leavin’ and Sayin’ Goodbye” (Faron Young), “He’s All I Need” (Dottie West), “Enough to Lie” (Ray Price), and more; folks like Merle Haggard, Rhonda Vincent, Connie Smith, Ernest Tubb, and Little Jimmy Dickens have recorded her songs over the years.

More than 50 years later, Jeannie is still gracing the Grand Ole Opry stage, holding the record for the most Opry performances ever – 5,200+ appearances and counting! Just as Dottie West encouraged her when she was a young country artist, Jeannie is constantly investing in the future of country as a dear friend and mentor to her Opry sisters, like Carly Pearce and Rhonda Vincent, and even to the young bluegrass band, Cutter & Cash and The Kentucky Grass. She proves that true country never fades. So here’s to Jeannie Seely – an icon, a trailblazer, and a country legend who continues to shine!

Suggested Listening:
“Can I Sleep In Your Arms”
“So Far, So Good” (featuring The Whites)

Photo Credit: Sister Rosetta Tharpe from the Michael Ochs Archives; Jeannie Seely by Cyndi Hornsby; Laurie Lewis by Irene Young.

Artist of the Month: Yasmin Williams

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

No one on earth plays the guitar like Yasmin Williams. When the BGS team was first introduced to her music – back a few years now, in 2017 or 2018, during our annual programming for our Shout & Shine diversity showcase – it was an objectively jaw-dropping discovery. We’ve covered many singular musicians, instrumentalists, and guitarists over the years on our site, but here was something completely and totally brand new. Then, in 2021, she wowed our BGS audience with her Shout & Shine livestream performance. From our staff to our followers, we were all hooked.

Immediately upon hearing Williams’ ethereal, otherworldly, and effortlessly charming guitar-centered compositions, it’s natural, reflexive even, to imagine how listeners may have first reacted to encountering Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s earth-stopping rock and roll, or Elizabeth Cotten’s unassuming backwards-and-upside-down guitar genius, or Jimi Hendrix’s showy shredding behind his head. There’s a jolt of electricity, a child-like wonder, and proper awe that each result from even the slightest encounter with Williams’ talents.

But, like those legends before her, this is not merely toxically masculine, performative, over-the-top “guitar culture” music. You can tell, from the first breath of tone from her instruments, that Williams is not now nor has ever been the guitarist trying to impress or outdo all of the AC/DC or Led Zeppelin rehearsers plucking through “Stairway to Heaven” at the local Guitar Center.

No, Williams’ approach to the instrument is totally brand new, too – and a remarkable breath of fresh air in a scene that is often derivative, competitive, exclusive, and rife with “Um, actually…” Instead of focusing her ambitions or goals entirely on the insular, inward-facing guitar world, Williams has demonstrated over two impeccable, critically-acclaimed albums – 2021’s Urban Driftwood and her first Nonesuch project, Acadia (out October 4) – that her community is far broader, richer, and truly incandescent.

Acadia builds on the rich and resplendent universe Williams built for Urban Driftwood – and has been cultivating for years, since her full length debut in 2018, Unwind. With a foundation centered on fingerstyle acoustic guitar with plenty of blues, bluegrass, flatpicking, and Americana infusions, Williams approaches the instrument as if a just-invented, novel machine; pedagogy, tradition, and technique are all present, but only ever in service of the melodies themselves – never as exercises in “correctness” or propriety. She’ll play with the guitar in her lap, tapping with both hands on the surface of the strings and fretboard. She’ll affix a kalimba to the face of the instrument and play both simultaneously. She quite literally turns her six-string (and her harp guitars, banjos, and more) on their ears, throwing all expectations and convention out the window.

There’s showmanship evident herein, of course, and a tinge of acrobatics, but these are merely knock-on effects and not the entire point. Instead, it seems Williams’ intention is to follow each and every tendril and tributary of her musical ideas to their natural conclusions, raising no barriers to herself in the process. Not even the barrier of the guitar itself. What even is a guitar, if you approach it from a unique perspective or through a fresh lens each time you pick it up? Williams shows us this common, everyday, century-spanning instrument can always find new sounds and styles.

Again, in contrast with “norms” in the guitar scene, Acadia is a testament to Williams’ community, as well. Her albums as yet never feel like guitar vanity projects, as the picker decidedly brings in so many facets of her musical and creative community to her music making. In just the first three singles from Acadia she taps an impressive array of featured artists, from Aoife O’Donovan to Darlingside to Allison de Groot & Tatiana Hargreaves. On prior releases, she’s recorded with the legendary Tommy Emmanuel, Taryn Wood, Dobrotto, and many more. Her approach to the instrument is singular, but it’s never solitary. Where other guitarists might prefer to leverage the instrument and their virtuosity to center themselves, Williams seems determined to do the opposite. The results are, as always, stunning.

Fingerstyle acoustic guitar is engaging and lovely music to begin with, but given her particular touch, her compositional voice, and her community collaborations, Yasmin Williams is showing roots music fans everywhere that even our most familiar instruments can be wellsprings of originality, inspiration, and joy. Acadia is a masterwork, and a perfect album to spotlight as we name Yasmin Williams our Artist of the Month. Enjoy our Essentials Playlist below to kick off the month and read our exclusive interview feature here. And, read an excellent op-ed on Williams written by buzzworthy viral guitarist and improviser Jackie Venson here. Plus, we’ll be dipping back into the BGS archives for all things Yasmin throughout October.

Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

Guitarist Yasmin Williams’ Techniques Are Second Only to Her Songs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Guitarists spend lifetimes — often gleefully, sometimes manically, or at times frustratingly — finessing techniques, especially with their picking hand. Entire careers can be made or broken by the idiosyncrasies of one picker’s striking and sounding strings. Fingerstyle guitarist and composer Yasmin Williams has mastered myriad forms of right-hand styles, each complicated enough for multiple lifetimes’ worth of study. But she doesn’t merely alternate techniques between pieces; to a transcendentally perplexing degree she effortlessly alternates her entire picking hand approach mid-song.

On her 2021 release, Urban Driftwood, a collection of thoughtful, dynamic, and engaging instrumentals written for fingerstyle guitar and harp guitar, Williams makes many of these technique-swaps while the compositions charge forward, each one earning tailor-made right-hand approaches. As a result, the songs don’t feel encumbered when Williams, mid-melody, goes from right hand fingerstyle to bowing her strings with a cello bow, or plunking out notes on a kalimba taped to her guitar’s face, now positioned laying across her lap. She utilizes hand percussion and tap shoes to fill out arrangements, interposing Afro-descended instruments from around the world into her compositions, and she picks up, puts down, and readjusts her stable of musical tools in realtime — as a foley sound effect artist, prop master, or choreographer might. 

In guitar-centered communities — which are, it’s worth pointing out, largely white, straight, and male — where the overwrought, complicated, and mind-bending are regarded as the highest value currencies, you might expect the intricacies of Williams’ compositions, and the physicality of these impressive, visually striking techniques, to be the entire point of the music. But, as Williams explains in our interview and demonstrates indelibly in her Shout & Shine livestream performance — which will air on BGS on March 31 at 4pm PDT / 7pm EDT  (watch above) — the acrobatics of her playing are merely a means to an end. While entrancing, each fresh, inventive way Williams creates a dialogue with her instrument is merely a tool for her to execute each individual song, as close to how she hears it in her head as possible.

We began our conversation discussing this phenomenon and how it’s an active, deliberate choice on the part of Williams to serve her own songs.

BGS: There isn’t nearly as much variation in right hand or picking techniques in bluegrass and old-time as you use – tap, lap tapping, fingerstyle, harp guitar, I’ve even seen you bowing your guitar. So many of these contemporary guitar styles that you switch back and forth between are so different from each other, so what ties them all together for you? What does it feel like when you’re thinking about switching between these styles?

YW: I don’t really think about it much at all! Unless it’s logistically for a live performance, like, “Oh, I need to put my bow here, I need to put my kalimba here.” That [stage choreography] is really the only context in which I think about it. These different techniques, I just use them for whatever the song requires. They’re more like compositional tools. It’s more like I’m trying to find the sound that’s in my head or I’m trying to find a sound that’s different from [how] my guitar [already sounds], something to supplement whatever I’m writing. It’s not really like, “I want to make a lap tapping song!” It’s not conscious like that. These techniques are kind of my inventions and I only really come up with them to well, finish the song, basically. 

I’ve never really been technique-forward – yeah, guitar culture is very nerdy and I’ve never been very into that, at least in terms of the techniques, I don’t usually care what people are doing. [Laughs] I care more about the result. However you choose to get there is cool, too! But I don’t really scout other people’s techniques or anything. 

It makes me think of Elizabeth Cotten, who you have mentioned in past performances and interviews as an influence of yours. She was left-handed and played “upside down and backwards,” playing the guitar the way she needed to play it. 

[Laughs] Yes! She just figured it out, she was determined! Elizabeth Cotten and Jimi Hendrix kind of served the same purpose for me. They’re both extremely unique, I love that about them, and they really didn’t care about how they were “supposed” to do things, they weren’t bogged down by tradition. Elizabeth Cotten, I love her because, somewhat obviously, she’s a Black woman who plays guitar fingerstyle, which is very cool — and banjo, too. How she played, I can’t figure it out! It’s fun to figure out and to watch, but it’s even cooler to not watch her play and just listen. All of her tunes are so catchy. She’s great, I’d love to be as great of a songwriter as her one day, hopefully.

Some of the songs on Urban Driftwood feel so huge and expansive, but some feel so introspective and meditative, despite the fact that most tracks have very similar, stripped down, simple instrumentation and arrangements. It’s not a lot of production and arranging. How do you accomplish that dynamic range? What is your own dialogue with your instrument like during the creative process, during recording and writing?

That’s a really interesting question! But, I don’t know! [Laughs] Sorry to say that, but I really need to think more about this. 

Some songs, I definitely did want to be more introspective, like “I Wonder.” That was definitely one I wanted to be very intimate. And I did think about, in a live setting, how I wanted the song to feel more quiet and more intimate than other arrangements. “Swift Breeze” is another one I wanted to have an edgier sound. I don’t really think about it, I guess I’m just extremely tunnel-visioned. At the time of writing or recording a song I only think about what the song needs. Whatever that particular song that I’m working on in that moment needs. I didn’t think about live performance at all until after the album was already out and finished, which was probably not the best idea, [Laughs] I’m kind of regretting it now, but I’m working it out. 

I did think about the arrangement for “Urban Driftwood” a lot. I didn’t want to use tons of overdubs or multi-tracks on many of the songs [on the album], because I don’t really “believe” in it, I guess. That one, I wanted it to sound expansive, but also I wanted it to be able to work in a more intimate setting, too. But even so, I’m not really thinking about it that much.

The guitar, when you take it out of the context of the average player’s experience — which is usually playing with a pick and using three or four chords — when you remove it from that context so many new and exciting ideas have to start flowing, like when you pick up a bow instead of a pick. What is your experimentation like when you’re composing/writing?

I tend to repeat things I like over and over again. I can do that for hours. [Laughs] It’s a bit of a mess, it’s not the most efficient way to write something, but I can make up a melodic line that I really like and play it for hours and hours and hours. Other things will start to form while I’m playing that. Then I’ll record it, or write it down in notation, whatever I need to do to remember it. That process can go on for months before I even finish a song. 

I love experimenting. I love finding new, different things to use. Like a hammered dulcimer hammer or a bow or tap shoes, which are something else I use. Those were another example of problem solving. Now I’m into pedals a lot more so I’m experimenting with those, too. There are tons of great pedals out there, so it can be pretty difficult. It’s another world on its own! I’ve always been an experimental player, ever since I started playing. 

Who are you listening to now who inspires you? And who – you already mentioned Jimi Hendrix and Elizabeth Cotten – do you look to and who influences you from past generations? 

I kind of want to go back to where I’m from [in Northern Virginia], Chuck Brown is an influence — maybe not directly, I don’t really model my playing after his at all. He’s a guitar player from the D.C. area, he plays go-go music, a kind of regional style of music here. I’ve always loved him, from when I was a kid. 

Libba Cotten, obviously, is a huge influence. I wish I had known about her when I was younger. I think I could’ve saved a lot of time by not trying to be something I was never going to be. I really wanted to be a shredding, metal-type guitarist. I think that’s what I associated the guitar with–

Is that where the tapping came in? 

Yeah! 

That’s amazing. There are a lot of post-metal pickers in bluegrass! We have quite a few. 

[Laughs] I mean, I used to play Guitar Hero and that had so many rock songs and metal songs on it and tapping stuff. A bit of southern rock, too. But it was really rock- and male-centered and it would’ve been great to find Elizabeth Cotten sooner. That would’ve been great. I still like Paul Gilbert, I still like Buckethead, all of them, but it definitely would’ve been better if I had found Libba Cotten or Sister Rosetta Tharpe or Algia Mae Hinton sooner. 

Ah! I love Algia Mae, when you mentioned tap shoes earlier I immediately thought of her and the tradition of buck dancing and clogging connected to finger-picking. 

I know! I didn’t know anything about that until recently! I didn’t really know anything about that until the past couple of years, I’ve definitely gone down the rabbit hole of all of that now, though.

I guess I am listening to more guitar music these days than I ever have before. When I first started playing I didn’t really listen to any, because I didn’t really like it, the fingerstyle stuff and the technical stuff. Whatever you want to call it. But now, it’s great. There are a lot of contemporary players I really enjoy, I love Daniel Bachman’s stuff. [The band] The Americans have cool stuff. Chuck Johnson and Sarah Louise. There are a lot more people releasing music that isn’t just a derivative of what already exists in the guitar canon or in traditional guitar scenes. 

This topic has come up recently — in my interview with Jackie Venson and also with Sunny War — but more and more when I find myself engaging with contemporary guitar music, it’s made by women. To a degree, I think the music women are making in fingerstyle guitar and in “guitar culture” right now is just not what you hear like… in the halls at NAMM. As a queer person, I think I avoid guitar culture a lot because it feels so toxically masculine. Do you feel that, too?

Yeah, I feel that now that I’m in the scene more. When I released my first album — and before that, when I was just learning and coming up — I didn’t feel anything like that, because I think I just ignored it. I didn’t really care. (I still don’t really care.) [Laughs] There are nicer sections in the guitar world as well as more “competitive” or kind of douchey sections. [Laughs again] Like the guy who will turn my amp on, cause he thinks I can’t turn it on. That happens a lot. 

Looking ahead to the future, with vaccines rolling out and it feeling like we’re at this transition point from pre-COVID to the beginning of post-COVID — and you’re gaining so much momentum with this record even during the shutdown — what are you looking ahead to? And what does this transition from “before times” to “after times” feel like to you? 

I’m actually kind of thankful for it. It’s giving me time to reflect — not only on the album’s success, but it’s giving me time to not worry about shows. I can plan and build a team around me and become more “professional” [to be ready] when touring does start up and venues do start opening again. 

Creatively and musically I am all OVER the place! [Laughs] I’m writing a piece for a berimbau group called Projeto Arcomusical, the berimbau is an old, Afro-Brazilian instrument. I’m really excited for that, I can finally use my college degree and be a composer for once. I’m working with another group, based in NYC, called Contemporaneous, arranging songs from my new album for a summer concert, which is fun. I’m working on new music, trying to write more harp guitar stuff, playing my twelve-string guitar more. My head’s all over the place, really. 

I definitely feel a sort of rejuvenation now that I’ve gotten past the “WTF is going to happen?” Now I’m just like, “Whatever happens happens,” and I’ve gotta make new music!

Photo credit: Kim Atkins Photography

This Nashville Museum Shows the Vital Role of Black Music in American History

Posted on by Editor

Nashville’s “Music City” nickname has always been broader and more inclusive than the national impression, which largely has been built on two things: the city’s impressive country music legacy and its equal importance as a hub for the general music business, with major emphasis on recording and publishing. But what hasn’t been as well recognized and celebrated, at least by those outside particular communities in Nashville, is its contribution to numerous other idioms and its role in their evolution and development.

Hopefully that’s going to change with the new National Museum of African American Music (NMAAM), now open across the street from the historic Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville. The Fifth and Broadway entrance to NMAAM and its proximity to one of the nation’s music shrines couldn’t be more appropriate, and it is notable that the museum isn’t located in one of the sites better known as a Black music hotbed such as Detroit, New York, Los Angeles or even Memphis. Nashville has always been a major player in the African American music world, from the days of the Fisk Jubilee Singers to radio station WLAC breaking R&B, soul and blues hits, and the Jefferson Street nightclub scene providing both valuable training for emerging artists and a vital showcase for established ones.

However, the museum isn’t focused mainly or wholly on Nashville, nor any single city or musical style. The 56,000-square-foot entity aims to spotlight the entirety of the music made in this nation by Blacks, to demonstrate its impact on the totality of American sounds, and to celebrate its history and multiple influences. As CEO/president Henry Hicks repeatedly told media members who attended tours in January, “We’re showing how music through the prism of the Black experience has played a vital role in the growth of this country and how it’s affected every fabric of the culture.”

The sleek, architecturally striking building has the same visual splendor and attractiveness as the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington D.C. Upon entrance, visitors to NMAAM will be immediately drawn to the central corridor that’s billed as the Rivers of Rhythm. It features touch panel interactive exhibits, something that’s a recurring sight throughout the halls housing exhibits and other items designed to showcase 50 genres and sub-genres of Black music.

The corridor leads into The Roots Theater, which is actually where the museum tour formally begins. There’s an introductory film presentation that provides the African background and heritage of the various exhibits. It also offers a cinematic shorthand of what visitors later see presented in more exacting, visually striking manner: the multiple sounds and styles of notable Black music creators and performers. The theater seats approximately 190, and in later weeks and months will serve as the location for various screenings, lectures, music performances, and concerts.

The different genre exhibitions feature everything from more interactive exhibits with timelines to cases containing such items as one of Louis Armstrong’s trumpets, one of B.B. King’s “Lucille” guitars, or costumes worn on key nights by performers like Billie Holiday, Nat “King” Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Ray Charles, or Aretha Franklin. The museum doesn’t neglect any area of Black music, going from the earliest spirituals to pre-jazz, traditional and modern jazz, blues, R&B/soul, funk, disco, and into contemporary hip-hop and EDM. There’s also a detailed storyboard for every idiom.

The greatest examples of Black music influencing other idioms that are sometimes mistakenly assumed not to have any links with African Americans can be seen in the Crossroads section. It includes an essay that traces how country founding fathers like Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams were influenced by the blues, and how the acoustic guitar playing of people like Sister Rosetta Tharpe and the gospel-tinged shouting of Odetta in turn influenced white folkies like Joan Baez and Bob Dylan.

One of Chuck Berry’s biggest hits, “Maybellene,” was a reworked version of Bob Wills’ “Ida Red” with new lyrics, while certainly Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and other white rock ‘n’ roll and rockabilly types were performing a hybrid of country, blues, and R&B. In both cases, as well as early string band music played by white and Black performers, these artists were hearing and creating a fresh sound based on their love of multiple genres, which the Crossroads section reflects in text and exhibits.

Along the way, depending on your musical preferences, you’re able to become an active part of the experience. There’s a disco dance room that inserts a neon silhouette onto the wall. You can construct your own blues song, improvise within a personal jazz composition, become part of a gospel choir, or craft your own freestyle raps. Any or all of this activity is recorded on a personal RFID wristband and automatically uploaded so that it can be shared online with friends, assuming you really want those efforts heard by others.

But most importantly, the mission, one frequently cited by tour guides and reinforced through the various exhibits, displays, and films, is Black music’s cross-generational links and the way it’s been both a voice of protest and a force for unity across diverse backgrounds. The role music played both in rallying Blacks into the World War II effort and helping inspire and fortify the Civil Rights Movement are just two parts of that underlying joint theme.

Whether it’s “One Nation Under a Groove” or “A Love Supreme,” regardless of spiritual or secular content, Black music has been at the core and forefront of American culture. No single building better exemplifies and reveals that than the National Museum of African American Music. No matter what kind of music you love, or even if you’re tone deaf, this museum will have something of value for you to see, hear and enjoy, as well as valuable lessons to learn and history to remember.

Photo Credit: NMAAM/353 Media Group

BGS 5+5: Anna Rose

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Anna Rose
Hometown: New York, New York
Latest album: In the Flesh: Side A & Side B
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): The Electric Child, AR

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

It’s impossibly hard to pick just one, as so much of my love for the creation of music has to do with the understanding of its history and the shoulders I stand upon. I’ve looked a lot to The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Tom Petty, Kurt Cobain, Warren Zevon, Sheryl Crow, Jackson Browne, and Dolly Parton as songwriters, though again I feel like it’s almost criminal to stop there. As a guitarist, I’ve idolized Jimi Hendrix, Tom Morello, Jimmy Page, Jack White, Son House, Muddy Waters, Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Bonnie Raitt. As a vocalist and as a performer, Robert Plant, Prince, Janis Joplin, Stevie Nicks & Fleetwood Mac as a whole, Alison Mosshart / The Kills, Tina Turner, Debby Harry, Stevie Wonder … again, these lists are endless and only speak to the tiniest tip of the iceberg. A mentor of mine once told me that there can never be too much good music in the world and I believe that to be true, now more than ever.

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

The woods and the water — I can survive without both if I’m on the road or stuck in a city, but I think I am the best version of myself when I’m in nature. I’m a more present person when I can go for walk in the woods or sit by a river or swim in the ocean and I think that helps my writing. Taking care of animals is also a big part of my connection to the natural world, as well as riding horses.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I’ve been touring for a long time and so much of my life has been lived out on stage, the good moments, and the darker ones. I don’t often get to perform with my dad and those shows hold a special place in my heart, for sure. Many years ago, I got to open for Jackson Browne … I’ve been thinking a lot about that show lately. I was so young and completely in awe of him.

I guess recently the most precious memory I’m holding onto, though, is one from my last tour before quarantine at the beginning of March with the late, great Justin Townes Earle. Our last show of the run was in Asheville, North Carolina, at Salvage Station and Justin came out during my set, sat down on stage, and just listened to me. When I finished the song he stood up, got on the mic and said, “Girl’s got balls like church bells.” For him to come out and hype me up to the crowd like that meant a lot and I hold that tour very close to my heart. He was a truly brilliant artist and songwriter.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Anna Rose (@annarosemusic)

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

I really try to experience many different forms of art pretty often, but I find myself most inspired by dance, film, poetry, and theater. I was a professional dancer and choreographer for a long time and my mom was a dancer, as well, so if I’m writing and I can picture movement it informs the direction of a song a lot. It’s sort of ingrained in my spirit.

I also grew up around film and theater and work in those fields currently, so I find myself influenced a lot by strong, captivating characters on screen/stage and wanting to write songs for them. On the poetry front, I circle back to the beat poets all the time — Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg have always been two of my favorites.

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

I think writing for a character is not hiding, first of all. Assuming a character can be a really powerful way of working and getting outside of your own perspective, or expressing certain parts that might not come out when thinking of yourself in the most habitual context. It can be like wearing a costume on Halloween. So, I guess the answer is that I write for characters all the time but those characters often have aspects of my own personality and I’m not trying to “hide” any of that. Some dream experts believe that you are everyone in your dreams and I think of it that way, sometimes.

Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

Indigo Girls Expand “Country Radio” With Black, Brown and Queer Musicians

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Hollywood, the 2020 Netflix series from director-screenwriter Ryan Murphy, is a resplendent show dripping in Art Deco that does not wholly reimagine Los Angeles’ golden era, but rather subtly inserts a quintessential question: “What if?”

What if Hollywood hadn’t been as… ___-ist? (Sexist, racist, misogynist, ageist, etc.) If one happens to be born into a region, a folkway, a culture, an art form that doesn’t include you, or that doesn’t quite love you back, one often doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. And then what? Do we, the rural, country-loving queers, wait around for our Ryan Murphy to reimagine the world to better include us? Not quite.

For Emily Saliers and Amy Ray of Indigo Girls — and, for that matter, almost each and every queer who has ever loved roots music — that “What if?” question is existential, but it also doesn’t matter. What if country music loved LGBTQ+ folks? The lyrics of “Country Radio,” a track off the duo’s sixteenth studio album, Look Long, tell it plainly: “But as far as these songs will take me/ Is as far as I’ll go/ I’m just a gay kid in a small town/ Who loves country radio.”

While curating the following playlist of their favorites from country music airwaves and songs they wish were included there, Saliers and Ray offer a quite simple solution actionable in each present moment: Be who you are, listen to the music that brings you joy, love who you love — and be anti-racist.

Emily Saliers: [I began with the idea:] What are the songs that I listened to that I latched onto, that sort of gave me a feeling of “I can’t get into this song [because of its heteronormativity], but I love this song so much”? One of the first songs that came to mind is “Mama’s Song” by Carrie Underwood. 

I should preface this by saying, I don’t expect that there can’t be heteronormative country songs, or that queer life has to be explicitly represented in songs, it’s not that. It’s the feeling of the way a song moves me emotionally, but then it stops me a little bit short of being able to fully experience it because of the language or the obvious implications of man and woman.

I love Carrie Underwood’s voice and she’s taken more of a harder, pop direction since “Mama’s Song,” but she sings this so beautifully. She’s talking to her mother, “He is good… he treats me like a real man should,” and yet the beauty of her song [is in] her telling her mom that’s she’s going to be okay. 

Amy Ray: For me it’s a little different because I never had the experience of feeling like I wish I could put myself in a song. I think it’s because, gender-wise, I always just related to the male singers. I kinda have that gender dysphoria, you know? [Chuckles] I have these filters that sort of make it my own — probably out of necessity, from growing up loving the Allman Brothers, Pure Prairie League, and Randy Travis so much. [Sings] “Amie, whatcha gonna do?” Pure Prairie League!

It’s very odd — Emily’s perspective on this is something I can understand, and I agree that it’s this weird disconnect with country music. We have to kind of acclimate it to ourselves, in some way, using some kind of trick in our minds. But I’ve always had that internal translator…

ES: Another example is Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know.” Now this is a song that you can listen to and fit your own queer life into it — as far as I remember it doesn’t have any gender pronouns. Then I watched the video and of course he’s singing to a woman who comes into the audience and he plays to her, alone. It’s a love song to his girlfriend — or wife or partner or whatever — so I could live in that song and think back to relationships and apply it in my own life, but then I watched the video and that door shut a little bit.

AR: I love Angaleena Presley, the Pistol Annies. Presley is such a great writer. “Better Off Red” is one of my favorite songs that she’s written… Honestly, if I hear songs, if I like it, I just put myself in it. I don’t really think about it or worry about it. It’s a survival mechanism from my youth, not that it’s the right thing to do. It’s built inside me.

…I thought you couldn’t be a country singer if you were gay and left-wing and a complete dyke. That made me feel more alienated than the songs themselves, that idea of its inaccessibility. Or, if you went to a show and you were sitting there in that audience, in the early days before it all kind of busted open, you would feel scared. Or judged. Or uncomfortable.

ES: Think about what a splash that song by Little Big Town, “Girl Crush,” had. Just the implication of a lesbian relationship or feelings! That song was a big hit, but it got people talking. [Probably] the majority of the people in this world lean more heteronormative, so they’re representing themselves in these songs. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. 

I wouldn’t want to listen to just albums that are for and by queer people, oh my god. No way! But we have to have them as part. I think about what an influence Ferron was, how much Amy and I love Ferron. When her first album came out, it was like, “Oh my gosh this is one of the best songwriters in the country and she’s queer!” I can’t describe how important it was to have an artist like that.

Even Lil Nas X, who had the number one hit forever-ever-ever with Billy Ray Cyrus. It’s awesome to know that he’s queer! And a guy like Young Thug, a rapper out of Atlanta, who’s not gender normative by any stretch, to me. It’s interesting. It’s good to have a mish mosh! It’s not that the majority of songwriters out there can’t be represented in their own songwriting, we just have to have ours, as well.

AR: [We] should add Amythyst Kiah. Amythyst is amazing.

[Racism] is the pivotal struggle of the Americana scene and the roots scene. How do you honor Black and Brown folks who want to be in this scene — and maybe some of them don’t even want to be in this scene because even Americana is rooted in questionable legacy. How much do people of color want to be immersed in that scene when it still feels so racist? Even the best parts of it. It’s a huge question to unwrap and it has to do with such a long history of where country music came from.

We stole the banjo and put it in our hillbilly music in the mountains and called it our own. We forgot all the stuff we learned from “our slaves,” you know? It’s crazy to me, if you think about the racist roots of where a lot of this comes from. Merging this racist legacy with this incredible populist music — music for the people, like Woody Guthrie, like the Carter Family. You get those two things bumping up against each other constantly, how do you entangle that and make this a space where it doesn’t matter what color you are? Where it doesn’t matter what your religious persuasion, or your political party, or your gender, or your sexual preference, or anything.

I think the way we deal with it is by all of us thinking all the time and being mindful of [that racist history]. And including [Black artists] in our playlists and touring with them. Some people are like, “What does it mean if you’re forcing this integration? Is it just going through the motions?” No! No, no, no.

ES: I’ll [echo] the things that Amy said, practically: Tour with Black musicians or Brown musicians or musicians who have not been able to feel that they’re welcome and make everybody welcome. Like Amythyst or Chastity Brown. Those are artists of color who have been discriminated against, who feel other-than in the world of their genres.

I think, first, we all — we white people, we people “of no color,” we “colorless” people — should dig deep, identify our own racism and how far it goes, how much we use it. Break it down, talk about it, identify it in each other. Really start from the core of things and hopefully act outwardly as a result of what we’ve dug through, inwardly. Try to heal and fix, you know? We’ve got to ask artists of color what their experience is like and why it’s like that. I’ve got to assume that there must be some Black artists, who if they hear a song from a white, country, roots singer about the freedom of driving down a dark, country road, they’re not going to feel the same way about the history of Black people down dark country roads. A lot of it is context and, as Amy says, there’s so much to be unraveled. But we are at a tipping point.

AR: Sister Rosetta Tharpe, I feel like there’s a lot of crossover, to me from that and the beginnings of early rock ‘n’ roll. That’s kind of what Elvis Presley was doing and borrowing from. I think about that sometimes, that territory. I like old recordings, like field recordings almost, of all the Alan Lomax type stuff he would collect. Field songs, prison songs. I think a lot of country writers have taken from that stuff, you know? 

I remember an interview with Kathleen Hanna that really resonated with me. She said, when they ask you who your favorite artists are, most of us name all these male artists. That’s who we can think of, because that’s who’s archived the best. Straight men, bands, and writers. If you sit down and really think about who you love and make a list of the women and the queer folks — this is what she was talking about, she wasn’t talking about color at the time or race or the social construct of race — and you take that list to your interviews and rattle off those names, you’ll be more honest, because you’ll be talking about who you really listen to and not just trying to remember [anyone] off the top of your head. 

People are so out of the habit — and so in the habit — of white supremacy that we don’t even know how to do the right things, just in our instincts. We have to learn, write it down, so we remember to do it.

Photo credit: Jeremy Cowart

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Forgiving Herself, Maya de Vitry Feels Better and Better on New Solo Album

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When Maya de Vitry quit her most recent full-time touring gig, she did it for self-preservation. Before her solo debut Adaptations was released in 2019, the multi-instrumentalist and singer/songwriter prioritized her life by centering community, home, and a sense of place in what had often been a frantic, taxing, and nomadic daily life.

Her second, just-released album, How to Break a Fall, was tracked almost immediately after Adaptations hit shelves, and with a harder, more grizzled, rockier aesthetic it demonstrated the growth and transformation that had occurred in the meantime. A sense of movement, of excited, unapologetic momentum permeates the Dan Knobler-produced project. Where Adaptations had seen de Vitry through a transition to stillness, How to Break a Fall was poised to carry her into still another new period for the budding solo artist. 

Enter a global pandemic. With nearly all of that momentum and her entire release cycle squandered on a music industry that had to shutter itself in the face of COVID-19, de Vitry found herself once again prioritizing, enjoying each individual moment at home, focusing on community in whatever shape it can take at this point, and baking banana bread, too. It turns out practice does make perfect. 

BGS spoke to de Vitry over the phone, immediately diving into how serendipitous this collection of songs is for a moment of global pausing.

BGS: The last record, Adaptations, was written in isolation and now you’ve landed with this new record, How to Break a Fall, and on the back end of it you’ve ended up in isolation again. I wondered if you’ve thought about that? Or considered the strange symmetry, the way that these records are bookended by the idea of intentional solitude?

de Vitry: [Laughs] Wow, I absolutely did not connect those dots and that is so wild. It’s so ironic, because I was feeling very frustrated and angry about losing all of these shows this spring and I was finally feeling like [I was ready to get on the road] — because with Adaptations I didn’t tour really at all. I wasn’t emotionally or mentally healthy enough to be touring my music, I wasn’t ready to be on stage. Then this time, I felt emotionally healthy to go out there and play shows and it was like, “Oh, but the world has another health situation going on.” 

In some ways, How to Break a Fall was also written in isolation. I had kind of cut myself off a bit from the East Nashville scene, because I needed some space from the patterns and circles of people. I needed space from touring and leaving [the Stray Birds]. I was working at Starbucks while I was writing the album and I was essentially in isolation. You go to work for eight hours, come home, and you’re just in your house again. It was still voluntary, and I definitely still had some community. I could still pop out and play a show. 

I’m kind of an introverted person, so I’m always in isolation when I’m writing — in some way. I’ve been writing so much in the last couple of weeks. I was ready to kind of emerge, I was ready to go and be out there, and in interaction, instead of isolation. Now it’s like mandatory isolation and I’m going to write.

What does that feel like to you? Does it feel like a grinding of the gears? Like, “Oh, hold on, we’ve gotta turn this ship around and it’s going to take some effort and energy for me to go back into the writing frame of mind when I was ready to be in the outward-facing, extroverted frame of mind.”

It feels like muscle memory. It’s like a pivot. That part of it has not been difficult. I think accessing the writing part, the inward part of being an artist, is [always] within reach. I get as much satisfaction from creating the stuff as I do performing the stuff, if not more. I would say the process of writing an album, recording an album, and being in the studio with people is so fulfilling to me. Just creating it. There’s almost a grieving process when that’s over. Then there’s the next thing, when the songs come alive… I was looking forward to that, seeing how the songs would live and evolve and change. How they would land, out there in the world in real time with people. What other choice do I have? Let’s just pivot. Let’s write another record. [Laughs]

“Better and Better” is about the idea of building something and the song feels pertinent in this moment of… pausing, let’s say, because I think we could all eventually agree that life isn’t about being the best, it’s about being better. It’s about being better than the moment before, the day before, the year before. How do you see that song’s potential for connecting with listeners right now?

That song was like the doorway for writing the rest of that album and it was the doorway because, through writing it, I was realizing that I was actually unwell. Some of the things I was singing about, those lyrics were all things that I wanted to believe, and I realized that I had to make changes. I had to stop doing something that felt normal. I had to leave the band that I was in, I had to stop touring for a while, and yeah, that in some ways does remind me of this moment, too. The only thing we really can control right now is how we take care of ourselves — and that’s also sort of the only thing we ever can control. But it’s easier to feel that when it feels like other things are so outside of our control. 

I felt myself stop, stock still in the moment that I heard the line, “Forgiving myself is the most I can do” go by, because I don’t think a lot of people realize that’s what we’re doing every day right now, to get through. Letting ourselves just be enough. Where does that line come from for you?

That line is specifically about staying. About staying in the situation I was in. Before I was in [the Stray Birds], I was a musician. I was playing fiddle tunes, I was really into old-time music, I was writing songs, and I started to draft up what would be a solo record — in like 2009 and 2010. Then the band became like an invisible fence. There was no room for anyone to be doing anything outside of the band. There was no physical room, for all of the time we were on the road, and there was no emotional room with the interpersonal dynamic of the band. It was not possible to continue to be myself, to nurture my own voice as a writer and musician and also be a member of that band, because of the environment of the band. 

Forgiving myself, in that line, is about forgiving my nineteen-year-old self for not knowing any better at the time. And forgiving myself for my fears, because it was easier [to avoid them instead]. It’s vulnerable to sing your lyrics at all, ever, and I’m forgiving myself for those fears I had. Instead of standing up with my name and my lyrics, it was easier to climb inside the identity of a band and feel protected and more secure.


Which is quite the contrast from How to Break a Fall, because, to me, this record feels like a statement, a declaration for women to be allowed to take up space. And to be allowed to access and enjoy as much of the oxygen in those spaces as they like. Songs like “Something In the Way She Moves,” “Gray,” definitely “Open the Door” all speak to this. And the rock ‘n’ roll aesthetic often feels angry and impassioned, but the music doesn’t feel hostile in the way that it channels those energies.

That’s one hundred percent right. That comes from that process of forgiveness. It comes from walking through that doorway, the doorway being “Better and Better,” and walking into this landscape of songs and being receptive to writing that story. I think the record doesn’t sound hostile because it’s not. These are the songs, these are the sounds that I felt like making, this is a story. These things are true for me. 

There’s this video of Sister Rosetta Tharpe playing incredible guitar, walking up and down this train platform, it’s an iconic taking-up-of-space. An iconic expression of joy. That kind of spirit is what’s behind this music and this record. For as much as I can control what people can get from it, I would hope that some of what it unlocks or awakens is, “Huh… there are a lot of female characters on this record taking up space and doing what they want.”

It’s not hostile because it’s taking the responsibility of going inward by going to my own interior and inviting listeners to go into their interiors and see what’s going on in there. In the song “Revolution” it’s like, What are these walls? What’s inside of me? If this is the way that my eyes have been trained to see, what new world am I going to see? If I can’t shift the lens or something on the inside, how am I going to see a world that’s [different?] It’s happened so many times in history, whether it’s women’s rights or gay rights or the civil rights movement. We have to practice imagining the impossible. That’s connected to why it’s not hostile. 

When that’s the reason behind the music and the intent behind the record, the volume of it or whether it’s an electric or an acoustic guitar or if it’s rock or folk — none of that matters to me. [Laughs] This is the story I’m telling! 

All photos: Laura Partain

BGS 5+5: Ruthie Foster

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Ruthie Foster
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Latest album: Live at the Paramount

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Sam Cooke. Growing up in a mostly gospel singing family, Sam Cooke’s music was playing on the stereo all of the time. He was not only the most melodic gospel soloist I’d ever heard, but he could sing anything from popular songs to fronting a full band with horns, changing stylistically as a singer (Sam Cooke at The Copa). I’d like to think that my music brings a similar energy to the live stage, which is why I decided to record with a big band on my latest release.

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

I was about 10 years old sitting on the front pew in my family’s church in central Texas watching and listening to my uncle sing a solo one Sunday afternoon. He’d sang the song many times before but this time it was different. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his voice was shaky, and he had his hand on my other uncle’s shoulder, who was playing the piano. Visibly moved, he changed the energy in the entire congregation. Everyone was crying, me too. I knew then that singing was a true gift that can be used to elevate.

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

I have a tough time finishing songs when I’m in my head too much; I’ve had no problem starting them at all. “Singing The Blues” is a perfect example. At the time I was getting a little pressure about writing for my next album and I resisted. Touring a lot while house searching from the road and trying to write was stressful. It wasn’t until I decided to put those feelings on paper when I realized that the song was really about my life. So I was able to start and finish it, “Trying to find a new home, trying to write a new song. Trying to find a rhythm, that’ll help me get through it, singing the blues”.

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

I love to cook at home when I’m off the road. One of my favorites is baked fish with garlic, fresh dill, seasonal vegetables, and a good wine. I always prep and pair that dish with one of my favorite singers, Tony Bennett!

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

One night onstage at a festival I started to lose my voice from really bad allergies. I tried to sing but after a few songs, I was straining and in extreme pain. I stopped and apologized for not being able to continue, but someone in the audience started singing the lyrics for me, then there were more people joining in on a few more songs and before I knew it, the set was complete and sung entirely by my beautiful fans while I played guitar for them! They had lifted and carried me through the show! I was incredibly moved and grateful.

Ruthie Foster – “Singing The Blues”

I’m very proud of being brave enough to tell my own story about how I came to the blues.

Sam Cooke – “Bring It On Home To Me”

Sam was soulful and a skillful in the music business, owning all of his own publishing.

Tedeschi Trucks Band – “Midnight In Harlem”

This tune reminds me of learning to adapt to my new environment while writing songs when lived in NYC.

Bill Withers – “Grandma’s Hands”

This one captures how I felt about my own “Big Mama” and reminds me of how she still sings through me.

Sister Rosetta Tharpe – “Singing in My Soul”

The very first and baddest rocking mama on guitar ever! Huge influence on my playing.

Photo Credit: Yellow House Studios

BGS 5+5: Dharmasoul

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

Artist: Dharmasoul (Jonah Tolchin & Kevin Clifford)
Hometown: Princeton, NJ
Latest Album: Lightning Kid 
Rejected Band Names: Dankasaurus

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Kevin: My favorite memory from being onstage is a tie between playing New Orleans Jazz Fest with the Loyola Jazz Band in 2012 and when an entire audience sang happy birthday to my mom at a show in New Orleans.

Jonah: One of my favorite memories of being on stage was on a tour with Chuck Prophet in Europe a few years ago. We were playing a small festival in Belgrade, Serbia. I was playing a song that’s on our new record solo acoustic (“Addiction”), and the audience was more enthusiastic than I had ever experienced in a room of strangers. It was moving to me to feel that kind of love in a foreign land.

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

Kevin: Since you can fail at what you don’t love to do, you might as well try doing what you love to. If I can’t dance to my own groove, no one is going to be dancing. Serve the music!

Jonah: I resonate with the concept of the Bodhisattva. It is my intention to bring this principle of serving my community and all people and life everywhere so that we — myself included — can wake up from forgetfulness and create a better world for all life forms generations to come. I think music has the power to do that.

If you could spend 10 minutes with John Lennon, Dolly Parton, Hank Williams, Joni Mitchell, Sister Rosetta, or Merle Haggard how would it go?

Kevin: I would try desperately to record a jam session with Sister Rosetta.

Jonah: Definitely John Lennon. I’d like to write a song with him … or maybe play a game. Like ping pong.

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

Kevin: Fried oyster and shrimp po-boy with a hurricane and the Soul Rebels Brass Band

Jonah: I’m gonna go with something I’m looking forward to, which is being at Jazz Fest in NOLA next month eating gumbo and watching three of the most badass women known to music all on the same day — Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, and Lucinda Williams.

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

Kevin: It had to have been when I saw School of Rock and became obsessed with all the music from that movie. Also, when my Uncle Bill in Chicago gave me my first drum lesson and taught me some Joe Morello licks and a 4/4 Beatles rock beat.

Jonah: I’m honestly not quite sure. As soon as I started playing, at around 13, I don’t think there were any other options for me. Two years later, when I was 15, I met Ronnie Earl at a music store, and he invited me to play on stage with him at the Tupelo Music Hall in New Hampshire. That was a big, reinforcing moment. I didn’t take the SAT in high school because I knew this was my path … I’ve been doing it ever since.

BGS 5+5: The California Honeydrops

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

Artist: Lech Wierzynski (of the California Honeydrops)
Hometown: Oakland, CA
Latest Album: Call It Home: Vol. 1 & 2
Personal Nickname: The Polish Honeydrop

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

My mission for my career is to spread joy, dancing, and healing through the power of live, non-programmed music, and to inspire more people to take that power into their own hands. We live in a society where people often rely on superstars, light shows, and drugs to feel something. I hope to show people that we don’t need a light show, DJ, or pre-programmed beats, or a God-like celebrity for an amazing musical experience. Real magic can happen with a few friends, with voices to sing, hands and feet to keep the beat, and willingness to take a chance.

How do other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?

Reading lots of poetry has taught me to search for the smallest number of words to express an emotion or tell a story. Comedy has shown me life is easier and better when you can laugh about it. It’s especially important for me to laugh about things I want take too seriously. That’s the reason I like writing and singing silly songs about relationships and sex (our covers of “Stand Up In It” by Theodis Ealey and “Sit Down On It” by Marvin Sease are fan favorites). I also love watching all forms of dance, from old Nicholas Brothers tap dance videos to turfing or second lining. Sometimes I write songs by just dancing to an imaginary beat alone in my house.

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

I get a lot of inspiration from oceans and mountains, as well as tiny things like mushrooms, mosses, lichens, and flowers. I love listening to the ocean and picking out all the sounds from the deep rumbles to the sound of the sand breathing, after a wave recedes. The scale of time and space you enter when you tune into the natural world can really give some good perspective on life. The entire history of humanity is a very small piece of a much bigger picture.

If you could spend 10 minutes with John Lennon, Dolly Parton, Hank Williams, Joni Mitchell, Sister Rosetta, or Merle Haggard how would it go?

Only 10 minutes with Sister Rosetta Tharpe? That’s it? Well, I’d have to thank her, first, for being such an awesome inspiration in my life. I started the Honeydrops right after two years of nightly Sister Rosetta YouTube binges. I’d have to bring her some presents — maybe some Polish dessert and a drink, like blueberry pierogi with whipped cream and some brandy. But I wouldn’t waste too much time talking or eating. I‘d get straight to playing music — “Up Above My Head,” “Journey to the Sky,” “This Train,” “Precious Lord.” I’d do my best singing the Marie Knight harmonies with her.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Last summer, at an electronic music festival, we were closing our set with the Rebirth Brass Band classic “Do Whatcha Wanna.” I was encouraging everyone to come out of their shells and try some new dance moves for the last song. Some crazy dude danced across the front of the stage and, while he was up there, I saw some young ladies in the front row looking at each other like, “Hey, we can dance way better than that fool. Let’s go!” Before I could blink, there were about 100 women onstage dancing with the band. We were on a small side stage, and there was no security, but we didn’t need any. Everybody was cool. Probably the best party at the fest.