Maya de Vitry & Ethan Jodziewicz are Seriously Playful on Basic Folk

Songwriter Maya de Vitry and bassist Ethan Jodziewicz come to their partnership with an understanding for their chosen lifestyle and a creative playfulness that enhances their connection. While Maya’s roots are firmly planted in folk music, Ethan brings classical music and improvisation to the table. They’ve been collaborating together since Maya’s post-Stray Birds solo career, which launched in early 2019 with her record, Adaptations. Fast forward to 2023, they are back alongside Joel Timmons and Hannah Delynn with the fabulous new EP, Infinite. For the first time in years, Maya is back on the road, while Ethan has been touring basically non-stop with musicians like Aoife O’Donovan, Sierra Hull, and Lindsay Lou. In our conversation, they talk about how it’s helpful to be in a relationship with someone who is also deeply committed to a musician’s lifestyle while understanding when someone needs a break.

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Maya also reflects on her current state of being within her body and how she has trouble recognizing physical pain to the point where she can’t move. She talks of the realization that she had the tendency to tense up when picking up a guitar and how that was because she felt like she didn’t belong. Ethan and Maya share their observations on working within a boundary. Ethan laments that he often works within a boundary with improvisation while Maya speaks of placing limitations around touring and performing live shows. We end this insightful interview with Maya revealing celebrity sightings are her Nashville Starbucks and a very fun Lightning Round called “Which One.”


Photo Credit: Maya de Vitry by Kaitlyn Raitz; Ethan Jodziewicz by Lily Smith

Folk Inspirations of Acoustic Syndicate’s Steve McMurry

Acoustic Syndicate is one of the best acoustic rock and Americana bands on Earth. Fronted by Steve McMurry, the band’s music leans toward themes of sustainability, social justice and quality of life and they’ve built a loyal following over the last 30 years. Steve takes us on a musical journey filled with inspiration and tradition in this episode, and he is as down-to-earth as they come; he still farms the land his ancestors first tended over 200 years ago near Shelby, North Carolina, and we get together every Thanksgiving for a hometown holiday jam in Brevard where I get absolutely blown away by the gravity of this musical titan. As a third-generation folk performer, Steve, in our interview, reveals the deep-rooted sources of his creativity, from legendary Americana influences to the tight-knit musical family that nurtured his sound. I was honored he agreed to join us for an episode of the Happy Hour and I know you’ll love his story and his insights and humility.

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This episode was recorded live at The Grey Eagle in Asheville, North Carolina, on May 19, 2021. Huge thanks to Steve McMurry, Mike Ashworth, and Mike Guggino.

Timestamps:

0:06 – Soundbyte
1:00 – Introduction
2:24 – Bill K. Introduction
4:00 – “I Will Lead You Home”
6:52 – “Beauty In The Ugliest Days”
10:44 – Interview 1
26:45 – “Sweetest Breeze”
33:51 – “Rainbow Rollercoaster”
40:00 – Interview 2
50:25 – “Sunny”
57:18 – “Song For Myself”
1:03:26 – Outro


Editor’s note: The Travis Book Happy Hour is hosted by Travis Book of the GRAMMY Award-winning band, The Infamous Stringdusters. The show’s focus is musical collaboration and conversation around matters of being. The podcast is the best of the interview and music from the live show recorded in Asheville and Brevard, North Carolina.

The Travis Book Happy Hour Podcast is brought to you by Thompson Guitars and is presented by Americana Vibes and The Bluegrass Situation as part of the BGS Podcast Network. You can find the Travis Book Happy Hour on Instagram and Facebook and online at thetravisbookhappyhour.com.


Musical Alchemy with Rachel Baiman on The Travis Book Happy Hour

(Editor’s Note: Singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Rachel Baiman is also a BGS contributor. View her author archive here.)

Rachel Baiman’s indie-folk and Americana vibe – rooted in Chicago and rich with fiddle tunes – unfolds as she shares her transition to singer-songwriter. Influences ranging from Courtney Barnett to John Hartford and other roots music make their way into her live performances. Rachel is part of a generational scene in Nashville that I’ve been watching with awe for the last five to 10 years. A unique voice, multi-talented and articulate, she’s not afraid to sing and speak what’s on her mind. She writes semi-regularly for BGS, shining some light into the darker corners of the music industry, addressing inequality, and challenging all of us – creators and fans – to do better, dig deeper, and expect more. In this episode we discussed everything from climate change concerns to hopes for a more equitable future. We had a great time on the happy hour and I’m sure you’ll dig it.

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This episode was recorded live at 185 King St. in Brevard, North Carolina, on August 8, 2023. Huge thanks to Rachel Baiman and Riley Calcagno.

Timestamps:

0:06 – Soundbyte
0:57 – Introduction
2:09 – Bill K. introduction
2:57 – Travis introduction
3:33 – On “Bad Debt”
4:52 – “Bad Debt”
9:52 – “Shame”
12:35 – On Mullets
14:24 – “She Don’t Know What to Sing About Anymore”
18:18 – “When You Bloom (Colorado)”
22:25 – “Won’t You Come and Sing for Me”
26:10 – Interview
43:45 – “Twin Fiddles”
47:30 – “Bitter”
51:15 – “In Tall Buildings”
54:53 – Outro


Editor’s note: The Travis Book Happy Hour is hosted by Travis Book of the GRAMMY Award-winning band, The Infamous Stringdusters. The show’s focus is musical collaboration and conversation around matters of being. The podcast is the best of the interview and music from the live show recorded in Asheville and Brevard, North Carolina.

The Travis Book Happy Hour Podcast is brought to you by Thompson Guitars and is presented by Americana Vibes and The Bluegrass Situation as part of the BGS Podcast Network. You can find the Travis Book Happy Hour on Instagram and Facebook and online at thetravisbookhappyhour.com.


Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

The Latest Album From Steep Canyon Rangers Showcases Fresh Sounds, New Lineup

It’s a rather warm evening in the mountains of Western North Carolina. With a sweltering sun slowly fading behind the ancient Blue Ridge peaks, Graham Sharp takes a seat at a picnic table underneath the welcoming shade of an old tree.

He takes a sip of a craft ale and gazes out upon the festive meadows of live music and fellowship behind Highland Brewing on the outskirts of Asheville. For Sharp, it’s a rarity these days for him to be able to sit back and enjoy the city he’s called home for the last 22 years.

Co-founder and de facto leader of the Steep Canyon Rangers, Sharp is at the center of one of the most enduring and cherished acts in the realms of Americana, bluegrass, and indie-folk — whether on its own merit or backing Steve Martin and Martin Short.

The Steep Canyon Rangers at the Western North Carolina retreat where they recorded ‘Morning Shift’ with Darrell Scott producing. Photo by Joey Seawell

At 46, Sharp has spent the majority of his adult life either on the road, onstage, or in the studio. And yet, like any endlessly restless and creatively curious musician worth one’s salt, Sharp feels like he’s just getting started.

“I’m the luckiest man on earth to be able to wake up in the morning and think, ‘I want to play banjo and write songs today,’” Sharp says. “Or am I going to get on a bus and go play some shows? That’s a good feeling to be excited about what you do — 25 years from now, I’ll probably be feeling the same way.”

What started as a rag-tag bunch of green horns jamming traditional bluegrass numbers in the dorms at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, has evolved into a bonafide group selling out venues coast-to-coast.

Throughout the Rangers’ history there’ve been awards and accolades, including three Grammy nominations and one win. There’s also been big stages (Red Rocks Amphitheatre, the Ryman Auditorium, Hollywood Bowl) and even bigger crowds (Bonnaroo, MerleFest, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass).

But, the core of the group resides in its unrelenting quest to dig deeper within itself to uncover another layer of sound and sonic possibility. Most recently, the band has gone through its biggest test to date, with the departure last year of founding member and arguably the gravitational center of the act, singer/guitarist Woody Platt, who decided to take a step back from the spotlight and focus on family.

“There’s a lot of things you can’t control and Woody leaving is a pretty good lesson in that fact that there’s only so much that you have influence over,” Sharp says. “And I’ve seen that with everybody [in the Rangers]. Everybody had worked hard, stepped up and defined their roles better in the band — just buckle down and push ahead.”

Fellow Western North Carolina singer-songwriter Aaron Burdett stepped into the fold to not necessarily replace Platt, but give the Rangers a new avenue to stride down, in terms of songwriting approaches and musical interpretations.

“We really tried to bring Aaron in to have another voice in there. I love having him as another writer,” Sharp says. “We both generate our own stuff and bounce ideas off of each other, where some of it feels like going back to the beginning [of the band] in the feeling.”

And with the Rangers’ latest album, Morning Shift, the sextet now finds itself at the dawn of a new, unwritten chapter of its continued trajectory as a group as sonically elusive as it is bountiful in its melodic pursuits.

“I don’t think you’d call it a chip on the shoulder,” Sharp says. “But, it feels like there’s just a drive we all have to just get better, to have more people hear what we’re doing — and we know what it takes to get there at this point.”

Hunkering down for a week in the off-the-beaten-path, unincorporated community of Bat Cave, North Carolina, the Rangers transformed a small mountain getaway into a makeshift studio. They also enlisted the help of Darrell Scott, the musical legend being tapped to produce the record.

“Darrell isn’t going to mince words — he’s pretty decisive,” Sharp says. “And Darrell spans all these [musical] worlds. He’s a monster picker and singer, and a great writer. We felt like he also comes from that bluegrass [scene], but also is outside of it, [like we are].”

 

What resulted is an album of genuine depth and stoic intent, renewal amid a reinvigorated sense of self. It’s a full-circle kind of thing, with the Steep Canyon Rangers not only reflecting on the past, but, more importantly, still chasing after that unknown horizon of artistic discovery. Our BGS interview with Sharp at Highland Brewing in Asheville continued with a conversation about the group’s changing lineup and dynamic.

It’s been a big year for you guys in a lot of ways — physically, sonically. What’s the dynamic right now? What’s kind of changed?

Graham Sharp: Well, what I’ve noticed is my default method [is] when things go weird, to just work harder.

There’s more of a round-robin feel in the band than before.

GS: Yeah. I get that. That’s what people say, that the dynamic reminds them of The Band, where there’s three or four different singers. And that was part of the deal, part of the thought process of, “Let’s take this role that’s the prototypical lead singer/guitar role and de-emphasize that.” Not totally strip it of everything, but the guitar player’s going to sing 40 or 50 percent of the songs. He’s not going to sing 80 percent of the songs. And part of that plays like a little bit of a safeguard, where if something happens with Aaron two years from now, we don’t want to be back in the same boat, where it’s like we’re losing a big hole out of the middle of the band.

Mandolinist Mike Guggino, in the studio recording the Steep Canyon Rangers’ ‘Morning Shift.’ Shot by Joey Seawell.

Like equally distributed weight now.

GS: Yeah. That’s kind of how we want it. And I think that’s what it needs to be. There’s a lot of talent in [the band] and maybe this is a chance to uncover some of it.

Not to take anything away from Woody and his contributions, but it feels more of a cohesive unit than I’ve ever seen it before.

GS: Isn’t that crazy? And that’s what people have been saying. I don’t know what that is except to say everybody’s stepping up and also making sure everybody else shines a little bit more.

I also wonder if that plays into more camaraderie in the band.

GS: Maybe. I mean, the band is a brotherhood. You couldn’t have more camaraderie than we have. But, that said, if people are feeling like their talents aren’t being put into full use – there’s one thing about being great friends and being brothers, but also on some kind of subconscious level, if you feel like there’s stuff that’s not being utilized, then maybe there’s something else you should be doing, you know?

And there’s maybe a reaffirming of gratitude for how far you guys have come.

GS: No doubt, man. That’s definitely one of the overwhelming things that has come out of this [latest chapter], is just gratitude to still be doing it — just keep going and keep doing it. [With Morning Shift], this record feels like a jumping off point.

The album also reinforces that elusive nature that’s always resided in the Rangers, where the last thing you ever want to be is pigeonholed, musically.

GS: Yeah. But, I love to play the banjo, so I don’t want to grow away from that. And [sometimes] I feel like my writing doesn’t always lend itself to the banjo. So, a lot of my stuff on the banjo ends up being able to figure out how you play to this weird song that doesn’t really call for banjo like a bluegrass song would — that’s part of the fun of [songwriting].

Aaron has now been in the band for a year. What’s surprised you the most about what he’s brought to the Rangers?

GS: We knew he was a great singer when we hired him, so that didn’t come as a surprise. When he sent us his demos, we knew this was our guy. But, the biggest surprise has been just how far apart our musical worlds are. He’s a very different musician than anybody we’ve had in the band. There’s things that he does in his own rhythm. He just has a different touch on the rhythm guitar.

Graham Sharp of the Steep Canyon Rangers recording ‘Morning Shift’ in studio. Photo by Joey Seawell.

There’s definitely a feeling of reinvigoration within the band. Almost 25 years into the Rangers, the band is still at the top of its game. But, playing devil’s advocate, I think there’s now other mountains you can see that you may want to climb?

GS: I think you’re right. I mean, as a band, you only have one introduction to the world. Maybe we were lucky because we got two, the other with Steve Martin. But, right now, it feels more like a collective up onstage. And I think that’s invaluable. Everybody is putting in the work. For example, I’ve always played banjo for a couple hours a day. But, maybe now, I play it for three hours a day. You’re just stepping things up, bringing things up a notch.

What really sticks out when you look back at the early years of the band, this handful of college kids learning to play bluegrass music?

GS: It was 1999. Somewhere in my junior or senior in college. It was myself, [former bassist] Charles [Humphrey] and Woody. Then, [mandolinist] Mike [Guggino] showed up later because he was Woody’s friend from Brevard, [North Carolina]. There was no ambition at the time. The ambition was really, “Let’s learn to play [bluegrass] so it sounds like it does on these records.”

New Grass Revival. [Russell Moore and] IIIrd Tyme Out. We never got to where we sounded like any of those bands. We could never sound like Lonesome River Band. But, take a little bit of this, take a little bit of that and go play onstage at bluegrass festivals. Go to Sears and get some clothes that match. And [a lot of the bluegrass] legends were still around and playing those festivals. Earl [Scruggs] was still around. John Hartford. Jimmy Martin. You know, when you’re young and rising, you’ve got all the momentum, all the buzz. And when you’re established and older, it’s different. Right now, we’re in this in-between period where it’s not newer and it’s not legacy. But, we’re not Billy Strings or Molly Tuttle, either. I still just love going out [there onstage] and proving it every single time — that feeling of doing what it takes to be our best each night.


All photos: Joey Seawell

First & Latest: For Darrell Scott, It’s Almost Always “A Great Day to Be Alive”

For a musician that could easily play every instrument in a standard bluegrass lineup – plus dozens more – it’s remarkable that Darrell Scott put out a post-pandemic record, Old Cane Back Rocker, that decidedly features a band. A picker’s picker and a songwriter’s songwriter, Scott has in the past recorded and released albums that feature other players only sparsely, fleshed out nearly entirely by his own playing. But this time, he wanted to feature his string band.

This wasn’t a post-pandemic realization either or a discovery brought on by the existential crises of the early pandemic, when communal music seemed like a far distant memory. No, Old Cane Back Rocker was actually tracked in 2019. COVID-19 was not the impetus for this collectively-created record, but rather the pickers themselves: Bryn Davies on bass, Matt Flinner on mandolin and banjo, and Shad Cobb on fiddle each inspired this new release, its track list, and its “out of many, one” approach.

For avid fans of this hit songwriter and country music renaissance man, Old Cane Back Rocker will feel like a return of sorts, a homecoming that reminds of many shows at the Station Inn and performances at bluegrass camps and festivals around the country. But, the album is even more fascinating and engaging when contrasted with Scott’s entire catalog, which showcases a diverse and circuitous lineup of production styles, genres and musical aesthetics.

For a new edition of First & Latest, we put Scott’s latest, Old Cane Back Rocker, up against his first release, Aloha From Nashville. As it happens, there’s a recording of Scott’s Travis Tritt-recorded hit, “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” on each album, making for the perfect starting point for our phone conversation.

When you first recorded “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” in the ‘90s, did you expect it would have this longevity? Did you have a feeling you’d still be recording it and performing it or did you think it would be the hit that it’s been?

Darrell Scott: No, hits are hard to distinguish, when you just hear the song – at least for me.

I think a hit has a lot more to do with the business, to make a hit, and it’s not the songwriter. It’s everything that follows after the songwriter. It’s the label. It’s the management. It’s the business connectivity, the promotion, the radio – all that has nothing to do with the songwriter. Zero. I remember saying one time, “A hit is that thing you hear a thousand times.” Repetition has a lot to do with a hit. It’s almost obvious.

Here’s one of the ironies. That song had been recorded three other times on major labels, but was never released before Travis Tritt got it. So tell me this, since it was a hit, why would three acts lose their deal [and not make it to release] with a hit? You see what I’m talking about? What made it a hit was the business machine that makes hits. A song is written by a songwriter. But a hit is made by the powers that be, after the fact.

In my case with that song, I had hurt my back, so I had to be on my back for a week. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t drive, I couldn’t go to sessions. I had to cancel my entire week so that I could lie on the floor, because I couldn’t do nothing else. Honestly, I couldn’t even sit up. After 6 or 7 days when I could [finally] sit up, I was literally just heating rice in a microwave – and considering making soup. Just sitting at the table, which I hadn’t done all week. It was the most blessed thing to do such simple things. And that’s where the song came from.

I wonder what made you want to do another version of that song this time around, with a string band? Because this is a song you’ve recorded and put out in quite a few manifestations.

DS: There’s one really simple answer for that. We recorded this album in August of 2019. In September of 2019, I’d heard two or three months in advance that a cornfield, a corn maze – like those pumpkin farms and apple pickings and that style of thing. There’s one north of Nashville that I heard was going to put my image in their corn maze. They cut my image and then the words, “It’s a great day to be alive” in their corn maze.

I thought, you know what? That, I can’t pass that one up. We’re going to have to make a video of that, and of us doing that song, rather than just lip-syncing to the one from ‘95 – which is actually when I recorded it. Wait, maybe even ‘94, but somewhere way back there. Instead of using that track, it was like, “Hey, I’m recording a string band album. I’m just going to put this in the string band’s hands and we’ll throw it down.”

I think we premiered that video back in the day! Well, the song certainly does beg the question: Does “a great day to be alive” look the same to you now as it did back then? Or, what does “a great day to be alive” look like to you now?

DS: Man, anything that makes you grateful, is a great day to be alive.

If you look at that song, there’s two things I notice in that song. First of all, the things that this person is grateful for are simple things like rice in a microwave, making some soup. They’re pondering, “Hey, I know it’s hard out there in the world, but today’s a good day, and tomorrow may not be.”

It’s just taking that moment, when you realize, “Hey, it is a great day to be alive. I am glad to be alive.” There’s no shame in saying such a thing. And that’s still the case. You know, that wasn’t just in 1994 or ‘95 or ‘97. Any day that you can feel that way is a great day.

You have this uncanny ability to take your listeners into a small, tiny moment like that, a split second moment of gratitude or of grief or of just big feelings and turn it into this whole big song. And what I’m thinking of now is “Inauguration Day” / “The World Is Too Much With Me.” And I’m so glad that ended up on the new record, because I went back to that Facebook video of that song, dozens of times after I first saw it.

DS: I’ve alluded to it so far in our talk, but songs have a life of their own, and they have a timing of their own, and they don’t have a shelf life or preservatives. You know, almost anything’ll start showing mold in about three to four days here in Tennessee. And songs don’t have that kind of shortness.

I try to gravitate towards songs. On a good day or night, to have a song that’s timeless is the goal for me. One that doesn’t just burn out in the second listening or in three months or something like that. That’s what I try to go for. I’m trying to see a bigger picture than, “So-and-so will like this song” while I’m writing it. “Oh, my publisher will like this” or, “I’m going to pitch this to so-and-so.” If you’re thinking that while writing a song, you just sold the song down the river. You don’t have that song any longer, you have a commodity.

I’m not a commodities writer, I’m a songwriter. From an experiential point of view. So, “Inauguration Day” is simply how I felt on inauguration day.

Well, and I felt myself returning to that song over and over. Even though it’s a very specific and very topical song, the repeated line, “The world is too much with me, too much today,” it just feels like such a mantra.

DS: Right? Because some could feel the same way about– uh-oh, I’m blanking on the current president… Biden! But see, some people could feel that about any inauguration day, the day that Biden got in or the day any other president got in and that’s fine.
But I absolutely wrote it on Trump’s inauguration day. I couldn’t do anything else, to tell you the truth. The world was too much with me that day. All I could do was I escaped over to my dad’s cabin. I have my dad’s Kentucky cabin here on my Tennessee property, and that’s where I went. I just crawled into a hole, pretty much, but inside the cabin was a five-string guitar that’s supposed to have six. I just played it with a bar, like a Dobro thing.

I came back to the house where there was a signal [to record the video] and there was wind in the microphone and all sorts of unprofessional things. But I then recorded that song within five minutes of being back at the house, having just written the song. That’s what I do. I follow my inclination. There again, I’m not writing a hit. I’m writing from a reaction in that case, just like “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” was a reaction to seven days of lying on a concrete floor.

It’s not my only skillset, but it shows up [in songs] like that. I’m just writing out of a need to write. I need to write. On inauguration day, I had to. I couldn’t do anything else, so I did that and that’s how it felt. It felt like the world was too much with me.

So the other two First & Latest tracks we’re here to talk about are “Title of the Song” from Aloha From Nashville and “Fried Taters” from Old Cane Back Rocker. I feel like the through line here is pretty obvious, the sense of humor that you have in your songwriting and in your music making.

DS: Right, because that’s another part [of my writing,] I do have a humorous side. I have a sarcastic side. I have a pointed, jabby way of observation, because – here’s what’s at the top of the page, above “songwriter” or “musician” and “singer” is observer. I’m first and foremost an observer. Part of that observation is being comedic or pathetic.

That whole first album of mine, Aloha From Nashville, “aloha” means hello and it means goodbye. I wasn’t sure which it was going to be, it being my first record I put out in Nashville. I took a lot of pot-shots at Nashville and the music industry within that album, and that’s why I called it Aloha From Nashville.

“Title of the Song,” it’s just a comedic song that’s so true that it’s almost doesn’t need to be said, except I went ahead and said it, you know? Writing a song about writing a title for a song, we all know the formula. It’s poking fun at that situation. The comedy is there, in both the writing and the production.

The reason I put comedy on this last record with “Fried Taters,” is it’s the same humor, it’s the same comedy. This one’s an instrumental, but I have a voiceover thing going on that’s making the snide commentary, that is kinda the same commentary as 1994 or ‘95, with “Title of the Song.” On “Fried Taters” it’s literally the words of a famous musician in jazz who really put down country music, audibly and frequently. Those are literal quotes from that person. I littered them throughout our little instrumental, to have that attitude.

Was that a tune by you? Did the melody come from you? Was that a band tune?

DS: I had the progression, that I wrote. Matt Flinner is such a great composer, who plays the mandolin and banjo in this group, he has so many records and compositions. He’s an educator, he teaches. He’s just a marvel as a composer. I knew that I could just flip [the chord progression] over to Matt. It had an A section and a B section, but that was about it. So he’s the one who put the melody to it. It’s a co write, but we never sat together with it. I did the chords and sent it off to him and he sent me back the melody and we were ready to record it.

I definitely appreciate you, more than almost anybody else, getting Matt Flinner to play banjo. He is so good on banjo.

DS: Yeah, he’s such a great banjo player and I’m so pleased that he plays it for me. I think probably, the only other time that he played banjo was in Leftover Salmon. Matt Flinner is such a great banjo player and many of us know this about him. I’m so lucky I get him to play banjo on every single gig, I mean, he may be on banjo more than he is on mandolin on our gigs. He’s a fabulous banjo player. I play banjo, too, but I know what a really great banjo player is. Matt’s got the composer ability. He’s got the band leader ability. He’s got the sideman ability, obviously the mandolin and the educator ability, but then he gets in there and and plays banjo that well.

What a lot of people think of first when they think of you is like, a one man band or that you’re a multi-instrumentalist or utility player, but clearly it was so important for you to have a band with you on this album. Why did you intentionally want to make this a collective work, rather than just hiring a band to back you up or playing it all yourself?

DS: Yeah, well, because I wanted this to be a band. I’ve played with these guys now for eight or 10 years. I don’t even know. Anytime a festival wanted me to have, in essence, a bluegrass band or bluegrass instrumentation, these are the very people I’d take. Every single one of them. We did a Live at Station Inn album and it’s the same people. If RockyGrass hired me, or Grand Targhee, or MerleFest, or something like that, this is who I would bring. But we’d never made a studio album. So I knew I had to do that.

Then the other part of it, I wanted it to be a band, but not just in the instrumentation. I want Matt to bring in a tune. I want Shad [Cobb] to bring in a tune. I want participation. I want everybody to sing harmonies, every chance we get. I very mindfully made this a band record – sound, input of songs, and stuff – because I know how to put together a solo album and all that. I’ve done it. I wanted this to be this band, because I know their abilities beyond just being sidemen.

I think bluegrass fans know that you’re a picker’s picker. But sometimes your albums, they’re so song-centered that that fact can fall to the wayside, despite the fact that you’re always improvising and using that vocabulary. So with this album and having the band right in the title, it felt like a return in some ways.

DS: Well, that’s what I wanted and why I wanted to do it with these people, it has everything to do with these exact people.

Here’s one of those ironies of our town or this music. So you what’s supposedly called a “sideman” like Shad Cobb, but Shad can lead his own band. He’s got boxes and boxes of songs and tunes. Matt Flinner has cases of songs and tunes. He used to tour with his trio and they would write a song per day, each of them. And that night they’d perform it!

This is what I’m talking about. These people, they do stuff like that. Where’s the hit making in that, you see what I mean? Just going back to that silly idea that the hit is everything. No, driving 300 miles and having a new tune that night times three people in the band, that’s news to me! Not what’s number one this week.


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

‘Jump For Joy’ May Be Hiss Golden Messenger’s Most Autobiographical Album Yet

It’s become commonplace in our culture for certain public figures to claim they speak for wide swaths of humanity – not just themselves and their families, but their community, nation and even beyond.

Then there’s Mike “M.C.” Taylor, guiding-light frontman of the North Carolina Americana band Hiss Golden Messenger. In speaking to the world through his songs, Taylor often approaches transcendence. But as for who he’s speaking for on this musical journey, well, that’s never in doubt. There’s a reason that pretty much every song Taylor writes is in first-person singular.

“It’s just what I find myself doing,” Taylor says when asked about writing in first-person. “I’ve never thought about it before, but it must be something I do without consciously thinking about it. This particular record really makes sense to me in thinking that way because it’s so autobiographical. Not all the scenarios are purely true, or belong to me. But it’s as autobiographically as I’ve ever written on a Hiss Golden Messenger album.”

The album in question is Jump For Joy (out now on Merge Records), the latest entry in what is fast becoming a sprawling Hiss Golden Messenger discography going back more than a decade. As listenable as it is plain-spoken, Jump For Joy is another earthy shot of country-soul love. It brings to mind some of The Band’s best work from their prime, conveying not just a journey of realization but how hard a trip like that can be.

Taylor’s longtime bandmate, Chris Boerner, describes him as “a deep, complicated human being.” And if he has a reputation as zen master, it don’t come easy. “The Wondering” finds Taylor asking his muse if he could “write just one verse that doesn’t feel like persuasion.” And the very first words Taylor utters on the album-opening, “20 Years and a Nickel,” are, “There’s no such thing as a simple song/I’m convinced of it, I should know.”

By way of explaining where that sentiment comes from, Taylor references an old legend about the late Spanish painter Pablo Picasso being interrupted by a fan at dinner one night and asked to dash off a quick drawing on a napkin. So Picasso quickly sketched a goat and named his price for it: $100,000. Stunned, the man asked how less than a minute of sketching could possibly be worth a price that high. Picasso took the sketch back and replied that it hadn’t taken 30 seconds, but 40 years.

“In my experience, I’ve come to realize that no songs are simple,” Taylor says. “Regardless of how long it takes – whether you get lucky and it’s one of those songs that comes in 15 minutes, or three years – I have come to believe that the same amount of complexity goes into both. Even when I’m trying to write a ‘simple’ song, which that one was, it bears the weight of my having worked at it for 30 years. Every seemingly simple line carries that many years and versions of itself beneath the surface.”

At the same time that Jump For Joy is as autobiographical a set of lyrics as Taylor has ever written, the album also has the most outside input of any work in the Hiss Golden Messenger catalog. It has an ensemble feel with a loose-limbed swing to the rhythms, and some genuinely unexpected sonic flourishes. Most notably, “Shinbone” is hung on a synthesizer riff that sounds like it came straight from Talking Heads, circa Speaking in Tongues.

“Mike is definitely responsible for all the lyrics and themes, and he’s the main driving force harmonically,” says Boerner, the group’s lead guitarist as well as Taylor’s main in-the-studio co-pilot. “The rest of it is a lot more contributions from the rest of the band than previously. It’s really something we made together, and I feel like you can hear it. I hope that comes across.”

Scattered across the album are three little atmospheric interludes Taylor inserted late in the process, each of them less than a minute in length. They’re highly idiosyncratic, almost functioning as in-jokes with old field recordings layered in. One of them, “Alice,” features the legendary folk maven Alice Gerrard (whose Grammy-nominated 2014 album Follow the Music was produced by Taylor) counting one to eight so quietly you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention. She is credited in the liner notes with “counting.”

“I was just looking for a way to let this album breathe a little bit,” Taylor says. “I still try to make long-playing records where you start with side one, track one and let it roll all the way to the end of side two. With that intention comes a desire to let there be a little space between the songs with singing. Like pausing to take a breath. It just felt right.”

Those catch-a-breath in-joke moments serve as respite, too, because Jump For Joy finds Taylor’s thematic leanings as heavy as ever. “Jesus Is Bored (A Teenager Talks to God)” has a reference to the “Starvation Army.” The album-closing “Sunset on the Faders” asks, “Is this how the poets learn to die?” And “Nu-Grape” likens songwriting to stone-cutting.

“When I’m not being zen about it, I do feel like songwriting is that way,” Taylor says. “When I start thinking of it in terms of permanence and lasting forever, it can even feel like gravestone-cutting. When I think in those terms and start feeling like I need to get it exactly right, that kind of pressure is not going to improve the work. So ‘Nu-Grape’ is at root about the impossibility of permanence. A celebration of the attempt to step lightly.”

Indeed, Jump For Joy is actually an apt overall title because, for all the heaviness, it still feels like an attempt to buck up against the long odds of life on planet earth. Times are tough, but redemption is still possible. Or as Taylor puts it in the title track, “Nothing’s a given, in the Book of the Dead or the bed of the living.”

“Each new day seems to contain ever more challenges that can feel insurmountable,” Taylor says, “whether it’s politics, climate, or whatever else. How do I choose to express my energy? Do I look inward and get small? That’s the way I perceive (2021’s) Quietly Blowing It now, turning inward. This one is trying to do something that’s harder for me, which is to be more public-facing. Gather what strands of hope and joy I can and use those to guide me forward even when pessimism feels easier. I have kids, so my perspective on the way the world feels stretches beyond my lifetime. I want to learn to be the person saying, ‘It’s tough out there right now, but there’s still something about humanity that’s worth fighting for.’”


Photo Credit: Graham Tolbert

LISTEN: Hallie Spoor, “Julia”

Artist: Hallie Spoor
Hometown: Denver, Colorado
Song: “Julia”
Album: Heart Like Thunder
Release Date: August 22, 2023 (single); October 17, 2023 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Julia’ is the first song I wrote for what would eventually (three full years later) become a new record, Heart Like Thunder. I had just seen a Bonny Light Horseman show at Levon Helm Studios in Woodstock, NY, and was very inspired by the performance. Their music has a grounded and natural energy, and that was how I approached writing the song that evolved into ‘Julia.’

“‘Julia’ is a strophic song – meaning it’s a very simple, three-verse format that is a tad unusual to the way I typically approach songwriting. (Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, etc.) But I think the simplicity of the form is what allows the story to shine. ‘Julia’ is about losing your lover to their best friend. In real life, we humans can be jealous bitter creatures, but in art we get to be wise and soulful. ‘Julia’ ultimately is about forgiveness – and I hope that feeling of peace is what the listener takes away.” – Hallie Spoor


Photo Credit: Sierra Voss

BGS 5+5: Mikhail Laxton

Artist: Mikhail Laxton
Hometown: Mossman, Queensland, Australia; now based in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Latest album: Mikhail Laxton
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Mik (Mick)

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I had a lot of great artists that I loved when I was growing up. But when I was 18, I was introduced to an artist that pretty much changed everything.

I had just joined a music school that was made up of mostly international students. One day, I was relaxing on campus when I heard this amazing song. The style of the song is what gripped me at first, then came these beautiful lyrics. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, so I started searching the campus, and as I got closer a friend of mine was just sitting there strumming her guitar and singing.

At first I was just so impressed with her skill and talent. She then told me she couldn’t take all the credit as the song was a cover. She gave me the name of the artist – Amos Lee. I spent the rest of that day and night watching YouTube videos of this guy, and I was just absolutely blown away by his music, his singing and songwriting. It wasn’t long before I was covering his songs and trying to emulate his voice. Not only did that ignite the fire of songwriting in me, it also sparked more interest in the idea of possibly pursuing music more seriously.

Since then, there have been only a few other artists that have impacted me the way he has (Chris Stapleton, and right there with Amos Lee is Glen Hansard). But Amos Lee’s self-titled album is what truly got things started.

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

Mostly it’s film and photography.

I’m a very visual person. When I hear music, I automatically start seeing visuals in my head like scenes from a movie, and my mind also works the opposite way. When I see something like a film or a photograph, my mind starts playing sounds in my head.

A little interesting side note: A few years ago, shortly after I got married, my wife had an interesting observation. She said, “I find it strange that you’re a musician, but you don’t actually listen to a lot of music at all.” At that particular point, we had been driving for a couple of hours without any music. I’d never taken notice of that before, but when I thought about it, I realized that it’s because most of the time there’s music playing in my head, whether it’s a well-known song or something my brain is working on. And usually if that’s not happening, I’m most likely writing songs and lyrics in my head.

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

The very first moment was when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I’d started to show a real interest in playing guitar, and I kinda had a knack for it already.

One night, I went spear fishing with two of my uncles. We came back late that night with a great catch. One of my uncles was cleaning the boat, and I was fileting the catch with the other. After a while, the latter uncle looked at me and said, “Mik, you see that guitar over there?” pointing his fileting knife to an acoustic guitar leaning against the wall. “Can you eat it?” I was very confused and said, “No.” He went back to cutting the fish and said, “What about this fish, can you eat it?” Realizing what he was inferring, I said, “Yep!” He then finished by saying, “Always remember, you can’t feed your wife and kids with guitar strings, but you can always feed them with fish!”

Basically, he was trying to squash any ideas I may have had about becoming a musician. I remember staring at that guitar at that moment, and it just made me want to go for it. I never liked being told what to do when I was that age. I’ve always had a bit of a rebellious streak in me, and this incident, thankfully, was no exception, even if it was coming from someone I admired. From that moment on, I knew music was something that I wanted to take seriously.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I do have a “pre-game” ritual.

– If I’m hungry, I’ll eat no less than two hours before the show. I usually just perform on an empty stomach. This is literally just so I don’t belch into the microphone, ha ha!

– I like to get in my vocal warmups within an hour of performing. I usually do this either on the way to the venue or right before soundcheck at the venue.

– I then like to stretch and warm up my body. This includes cracking my back with some random and probably incorrect yoga poses. I love the way it makes me feel, and it’s good to manage any nerves I might have.

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

Wow, this is a really good question!

A long time ago, early in my songwriting career, I was always extremely hesitant when writing songs that had some heavier content behind it — around then I had allowed my entire existence to be dictated by my faith and community of like-minded people. When I did start taking my writing seriously, I had tried to write without a filter, and I was heavily criticized by so-called friends and fellow musicians who felt that what I was writing wasn’t “nice” enough or was “too dark.”

And so I began to create a habit of censoring my writing accordingly by hiding meanings behind metaphors, and, yes, sometimes characters. Before too long, I found myself having constant bouts of never-ending writer’s block, and perhaps I developed a bit of an imposter syndrome. I felt like the music that I was creating wasn’t really art because I wasn’t allowing myself to freely create and say it how it is.

It took me a while, but thankfully I broke away from those influences. Art and music mean so much to me, and all I’ve ever wanted to do with my art is be honest, no matter how beautiful or ugly it can get. Our stories are worth telling in all their glory.

So, to finally answer your question, I do not hide behind characters. If the song is based on my own experience, you’ll know. But I also don’t mind telling the stories of others from a first-person point of view. I just use the song as a way to walk a mile in their shoes, I let those stories affect me emotionally, and I do my best to put that to paper as accurately as I can.


Photo Credit: Jen Squires

Basic Folk Debate Club: Performance vs. Authenticity

Welcome to Folk Debate Club, our occasional crossover series with fellow folk-pod Why We Write! Today, to discuss Performance vs. Authenticity, we welcome our panel of guests: music journalist and former singer/songwriter Kim Ruehl, Isa Burke (Lula Wiles, Aoife O’Donovan), illustrious male folk singer Willi Carlisle, musician and Basic Folk guest host Lizzie No, and yours truly, Cindy Howes, boss of Basic Folk.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • MP3

In music (and life), there is debate over authenticity versus performative. On stage, in written music, online and in person: what is the artist going for? Realness or entertainment? It doesn’t seem that simple. There are many examples of artists who do both very well and I think the best art is created at the intersection of the two.

There is no question: it’s hard to pull off. We want to try and break down what each of these elements is in music, how to achieve each and what is more important: to perform a personality or just be your genuine self?


Photo Credit: Sam Kassirer (Isa Burke); Cole Nielsen (Lizzie No); Rich Amory (Kim Ruehl); Joseph W. Brown (Willi Carlisle)

Basic Folk Debate Club: Lyrics vs. Melody

Welcome to Folk Debate Club, our occasional crossover series with fellow folk-pod Why We Write! Today, to discuss Lyrics vs. Melody, we welcome our panel of guests: music journalist and former singer/songwriter Kim Ruehl, Isa Burke (Lula Wiles, Aoife O’Donovan), musician and Basic Folk guest host Lizzie No, and yours truly, Cindy Howes, boss of Basic Folk.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • MP3

Our conversation begins with a case each for melody and lyrics from members of the panel. Some panelists are more fluid with their thoughts and feelings and at least one of us changes sides mid-discussion. Some interesting opinions emerge! For instance, manipulation in music is no good if the listener can see through your bullshit: “Part of the job [of songwriters] is to emotionally manipulate people. When you are feeling manipulated is when the person has missed,” says Kim. The panel talks about rawness: it can take lyrical editing before it can be presented to the public. “It’s sometimes hard to tell as the songwriter, like, how raw am I actually being?”, shares Isa, who goes on to talk about how being raw in melody can be very effective. She points to her emotional guitar solo (that was done during a difficult moment in her life) in the Lula Wiles song “The Way That It Is” as one of her most favorite musical accomplishments (listen below).

Bob Dylan comes up within 90 seconds of the debate! Don’t worry, Taylor Swift, Maggie Rogers, Stevie Wonder, Adele, and Paul McCartney also make cameo appearances. And Lizzie No ftw: “Lyrics are the hand-holding that we need to bring us into the glory of instrumental music.” Enjoy! We had a good time doing this, so we’ll see you again soon!


Photo Credit: Liz Dutton (Cindy Howes); Louise Bichan (Isa Burke); Bernie McAllister (Lizzie No); Kim Ruehl