Mandolinist Joe K. Walsh on Building ‘Trust and Love’

On April 4, Joe K. Walsh released his latest album, Trust and Love. The project is an utterly gorgeous take on minimalism within music. It combines a unique instrumentation of Joe (on the mandolin family instruments), Rich Hinman (guitar, lap steel, pedal steel), Zachariah Hickman (bass), Dave Brophy (drums and percussion), John Mailander (fiddle, except track 2) and Bobby Britt (fiddle, track 2).

I’ve been very fortunate to get to study mandolin with Joe as my teacher for the last four years at Berklee College of Music. In talking with him about Trust and Love, what stood out to me in a significant way was the excitement he has in making music with his friends and finding music that brings a great amount of joy. Often as musicians, we lose track of the point of playing music–to bring joy to ourselves and those who are listening to it. Joe has always emphasized this and in listening to his new album, it brings home this powerful message.

What was the inspiration of the album and when did you start writing it?

Joe K. Walsh: Well, I’m always writing. Every day I try to write, I think it’s a good goal. I like the concept of not waiting for inspiration and there’s that line Bill Frisell had in his notebook which was, if you want to learn how to write, pick up a piece of paper and a pencil or something like that, just start doing it. So I try to write every day and most of it’s garbage, but I believe in the numbers game. This wasn’t really a batch of tunes written all together. Some of the tunes are older, probably as old as six or seven years. As for the inspiration for the album, the music I need at the moment and have [needed] for about five or six years is peaceful music. Music that has a restorative quality, as opposed to exciting or some sort of impressive stuff. I’m trying to write stuff that fills a room with beauty as opposed to stuff that’s just like, “Oh man, kick ass bro!” That was the idea with this collection of tunes.

Let’s say I have 30 or 40 tunes. In a moment where I’m like, “These might be worth giving some air to in public,” then you look for some sort of theme that ties some of them together. That was the theme here. There was a while when I was making records that I believed in, but were also partially about what I thought the mandolin was supposed to do. There was a disconnect between what I listened to and what I played, and I think it’s weird that there was a disconnect. I just became really aware I was listening to these spare and peaceful records that are entirely about interaction and trying to find beautiful melodies as a composer, but also as an improviser with the group. That’s not totally distinct from bluegrass, but it’s also not the same.

In your album description, you write that this body of work is “showcasing the power of musicians listening and reacting to each other, sensitive improvisors sharing a musical conversation and following the threads.” When you’re writing something like this and give it to the band, was there more or less an arrangement idea that you had? Or was it just you all playing with each other and experimenting with it as you went?

I think it’s a little of both. I think in situations like this record, the hiring is probably as important as the writing. Finding people whose musical instincts I completely trust and don’t want to direct was really important. I’ve been privileged to be in situations like that with people where I don’t want to give them all the answers. I know that if I do, the end result will not be as good as if I bring in some ingredients and see what collectively we come up with. I’m not saying a person wouldn’t come in with some arrangements, I like to come in with ideas and try things out. I like the phrase “remain open to revelation.”

You also say that a big concept of this album is “less is more” and that, now more than ever, we need to be thinking about that. Can you talk about how you would take those life concepts and apply them to your music and how you practice?

There’s a lot there! [Laughs] Well, first of all, I am kind of a little disenchanted with the approach to playing the mandolin or the approach to playing improvised music that is centered around technical fireworks. I think that that can be exciting, but it’s also not where I’m at emotionally these days, with the state of the world and the state of my family and everything. I do think I’m finding myself preferring music that leaves space and that doesn’t have to state everything, that has faith in its listener, where you can hear a connection without it being explicit or made insultingly explicit. I think all those things would fall into the category of less is more.

But the main thing for me, and this is not a “hot take,” this is not my solitary opinion, but obviously we’re living in a maximalist moment with just an unstopping onslaught of information and stimuli. I really need music now where we have an attention span and patience for something unfurling slowly. Obviously that’s not everybody, everybody doesn’t need that, but I do. I need a longer form. You know there’s longer form journalism, I’m drawn to that of course, and I think there’s an argument that there’s a connection with music for longer form and longer amounts of patience.

Yeah, I definitely hear that.

I feel like many people know you for your more bluegrass-adjacent mandolin playing. You also play in a not-so-bluegrass, bluegrass-related band, Mr. Sun, which sounds pretty different from this album. You talk about the idea of minimalism in a time of maximalism, do you feel like that is a newer concept that you are playing with in this album, or is that something that you are thinking about often, even when you’re playing a lot of straight ahead bluegrass? Are these concepts and feelings still in your mind?

Yeah, you know how the version that one friend knows of us is different than the version somebody else knows? Both of those versions can be true and I feel like the same thing happens with going from one musical relationship to another. What comes out may be dramatically different, and hopefully you focus on the shared value system of whomever you’re playing with. That may end up being a distinctly different sound. I guess that is to say, I feel like all these things are reflecting a similar value system; it just comes out differently with different people.

How did you come up with the instrumentation for this group?

That’s a good question. It’s unusual to have a record with mandolin and pedal steel on it together.

I love it!

Nice, awesome! You know, when I came out of Berklee, I used to think, “OK, I found a banjo player, now I need to find a fiddler.” You know, thinking about it from these “recipes” we’re getting acquainted with and understand. It took me a little while to shift to thinking about personalities that I connect with more so than instruments. I just felt a strong intuition that all the things I’m articulating were values that Rich shared, but also I knew it was the case with John, Bobby, and Zach. I knew Dave less, but I felt safe guessing. But specifically with Rich, I really felt that all the things I was trying to do were based on values that he shared and I didn’t even have to particularly discuss it. That’s always the best, when you just know that someone gets your goals and you don’t have to describe them; they’re already sharing the same goals.

I feel very grateful to have the opportunity to work with musicians that I find very inspiring and beautiful. It’s a great privilege to get to share some days with musicians like that and have them be willing to share their personalities that way. It’s not something to take for granted.

That’s pretty beautiful, especially with an album that’s just so much about time and space and overall has a sweetness to it.

I appreciate that. Like I said, I realized the things I was listening to just sometimes felt distinctly different than what I was sometimes playing. Both are great, and I’m definitely not trying to say I don’t like playing bluegrass or listening to it. I absolutely love it. It’s great and definitely a big part of my musical diet, but also, for years – decades even – I’ve been listening to these really quiet, understated records. I always think, “What’s the thing that ties Martin Hayes and Bill Frisell together?” They are very different, but they sustain my attention in a way that doesn’t use the tools that many other people do with maximalism is really what I mean.

That’s a great way to put it, because I never really thought of music as being minimal or maximal. But after listening to your album and reading what you wrote about it, I started thinking about it and it’s interesting to go back and observe things that you thought were just so sweet, realizing that actually there is so much happening.

Music, for me, is about trying to create beauty and trying to create a feeling and a shared connection through those things. I’m really adverse to the idea of music as a tool for ramping up our own egos, which is a challenge. I feel like there are choices you can make, and I’ve become more aware of the choices that I feel are serving my ego versus serving the music or moving towards a feeling. It’s not always either/or, but I’m trying to be more suspicious and adverse to the things that feel like they’re serving my ego.

On this album, you go between different members of the mandolin family–

Yeah, mandola, octave mandolin, and the mandolin of course.

How did you find the right instrument for each song?

[Laughs] It’s an experiment! They’re all tuned in fifths, so in a sense you could just argue they all feel the same, but I think when you try and write, even picking up different mandolins, even just one mandolin to another, may inspire different thoughts. Certainly switching from the mandolin to the mandola leads to me paying attention to different things and, if I’m lucky, catching inspiration to chase an idea. Some of these tunes were written specifically on the mandola and stayed there, and the same is true with the octave mandolin.

I also think, [thinking about] sustain, the octave mandolin, bizarrely enough, feels to me like it does that in the mandolin family. Sometimes I feel like playing the octave mandolin you can’t be as athletic, because of the physical challenges of the instrument, but also it can sometimes have a little more sustain. Again, you can be nudged in a nice, positive, “less is more” direction trying to be musical with a smaller collection of what’s possible.

Let’s talk about some of the tunes on the album! I feel like throughout the whole project there is this really solid vibe that you build and it’s just gorgeous. Then you get to “Cold City” and it feels to me like a different vibe. Did it feel that way to you?

I think that’s fair.

I can see what you mean with the minimalism in this song, but it also has that kind of rocking “oomph” vibe going.

No, you’re totally right. You know, part of the whole thing with this arc – of trying to just crack the code on how to make quieter music that sustains interest – is just being afraid of letting go of some of these things that I know sustain interest. I like that tune, and I think it turned out good, although I think I also could have saved it for a more bluegrass record and that maybe would have made more sense. [Laughs]

I think it works in such a cool way on this album, because it lends this new lens to what you’re already seeing through the other songs.

I also think contrast is one of the most important things in music and that song certainly is contrasting. Basically, I never walk away from a record feeling like I will no longer doubt the decisions I made. That’s not how it works for me. You kind of just get used to the idea that there won’t be a full resolution on some of these decisions you wrestle with. That’s just how it is and you move forward anyway.

The pedal and lap steel on this album are really awesome and amazing. I feel like a lot of musicians don’t seem to mess around with those sorts of textures. There is a moment in the steel solo on “Closer, Still” where it feels like the other instruments drop out a little bit and it’s just the mandolin and steel. That spot feels really special to me and feels like there is this little conversation that the mandolin and steel are having. What it evoked to me was that they are sharing a little secret. How do you think about those two instruments intertwining in general and with music on this album?

Well, one thing that is distinctly different playing with a pedal steel – and again, I really feel like it’s about personalities you can connect with. But in a more tangible way, sustain changes everything. It’s not like we don’t have sustain on the mandolin, but it’s not like a fiddle or a pedal steel. I think with sustain, you’re able to do less and I think that’s probably true for what Rich can do or doesn’t have to do. I think it’s also true that when he is sustaining something, I don’t feel as compelled to, “Quick! Do something!” I think there’s a sense that things can wait a little bit.

I also think that’s true having the drums. That buys a little space, in a sense. There’s more going on, but somehow I can do less or it feels like there’s less going on.

As I recall, there isn’t steel on the whole album. There are some songs where Rich plays other instruments. I like that, in that moment coming out of the steel solo, or still kind of in there, it’s just such a different texture and it was really cool to hear it.

One of my favorite things is listening to people who really listen to each other and for whom the next thing that’s gonna happen is not predetermined. That’s the thing that kind of ties together the people that I was excited to hire for this particular record!

You can do that, obviously, with jazz language and that’s a beautiful thing, but I also think it’s really beautiful and under-explored to do that without requiring jazz language. So often that approach, mentally, goes with advanced and more complicated harmony that some people would call “jazzier” harmony. It’s a really beautiful thing to have that mindset, but not necessarily move in a more harmonically complicated direction.


Photo Credit: Natalie Conn

Folk Trio the Wildwoods’ New Album is a Love Letter to Nebraska

The Wildwoods are not shy about the pride they hold for their home state, Nebraska. The Lincoln-based trio – guitarist/vocalist Noah Gose, violinist/vocalist Chloe Gose, and bassist/vocalist Andy Vaggalis – named their gorgeous new album, Dear Meadowlark (out April 11), after the state bird, while songs like “Sweet Niobrara” and “I Will Follow You To Willow” represent odes to specific Nebraska towns.

“The album really is about our home here in Nebraska,” elaborated Noah, who is the group’s principal songwriter.

The Wildwoods have been together, in one form or another, for over a decade. Noah and Chloe, who are now married, first started performing together as teenagers, while Andy had played in the Wildwoods on and off for several years before officially joining them as a trio in 2022. Dear Meadowlark is their fourth full-length, but the first with Andy as a full-time member, and this album showcases their marvelous vocal chemistry throughout its set of gentle, pastoral acoustic music.

Before heading out on an East Coast tour, the three spoke to BGS about their new album, their growth as a band, and how the pandemic actually helped them become more widely known.

You all have been really upfront with how the new album reflects your deep affection for your home state, Nebraska.

Noah Gose: You know, living in a place like Nebraska, you hear a lot about people wanting to move away. But we’ve just grown to really appreciate our life in Nebraska and appreciate having had the opportunity to grow up in a place like Nebraska.

Chloe Gose: As much as we leave, I think we’ve all always appreciated our home.

Dear Meadowlark also has a very smooth musical flow to it. The title track opens the album like a lovely overture, while the contemplative closer, “Postcards From Somewhere,” bookends it as something like a reflective travelogue-type tune.

CG: It kind of felt like [“Postcards From Somewhere”] was the perfect fit to tie everything all together.

Andy Vaggalis: I think it works super well at the end, too, because [the album] is almost like little stories being written on the postcard with the last song for the postcard to be sent off.

NG: And that song originally wasn’t going to be a part of the album. It was just going to be a single. I wasn’t too keen on adding it to the album, but you know what Chloe says goes, so it was her decision to put it on, but now I’m really happy that we decided to do that.

The album’s music is really rooted in your acoustic instruments; however, drums, keyboards, and cello are used to nicely fill out the arrangements. Was that a conscious choice?

CG: I’m glad that you say that, because with our last album, Foxfield Saint John, I feel like each song is very epic-sounding in the sense that it just has a lot going on in all the arrangements, and we really wanted this album to sound more like us like how we sound live.

NG: All those extra instruments don’t really have the main spotlight at any point throughout the album, but they’re definitely kind of underlying things that brought certain parts of the arrangement out.

Noah, you are the primary songwriter – how did you approach writing the songs for Dear Meadowlark, which sounds like it is a quite personal album?

NG: Yeah, our first two albums, Sweet Nostalgia in 2017 and then Across the Midwest Sky in 2019, were all songs that were music first, lyrics second. And Foxfield was kind of half and half. Most of the songs on Dear Meadowlark were lyrics first. I feel like the songs mean more to me personally when the lyrics are first, because all the lines feel more purposeful.

CG: Things that are happening in our life are inspiring the words. So, all the words are very truthful and mean something in real time… I can tell when certain songs were written.

NG: I don’t like writing songs that just feel like everything’s completely made up. I like to just relate every song I write to things that happened in real life.

Are the vocals something that you think about when you are writing the songs, Noah?

NG: I very rarely have Chloe’s vocal range or Andy’s vocal range in mind when I’m writing the initial bones of the song, because I don’t want anything to get in the way of whatever kind of creativity goes into the initial writing. Most of the songs though, I arrange with Chloe singing the melody. I just don’t feel as confident in my own voice as I do in Chloe’s voice. And just with her being the only female voice, I feel like her voice stands out the most and works the best most of the time as singing the melody.

Your wonderful harmony singing seems to have become central to your sound now.

NG: The whole album of Dear Meadowlark was written around three-part harmony being kind of the main focus of the album.

AV: When I joined the group, I had it in my head – “I’m playing bass.” I wasn’t envisioning doing all these three-part harmony stuff. … When I first came back into the fold, it was like learning the songs and just finding a part in between [their voices] that fit. I remember like one night we were trying to make a fun ad for a show, so we switched around the words to “Teach Your Children” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. And I remember just feeling way easier than I normally would at [how] to put the three-part harmony together, and just like, “Oh, shit, that sounds good!”

Andy, while Dear Meadowlark was your first full album in the band’s trio setup, you have been with Chloe and Noah frequently over the years?

AV: I started playing with these guys in 2017. We were like a six-piece band. So, I was on Sweet Nostalgia and Across the Midwest Sky. Through the years, I’ve been lurking around.

CG: We’ve had different musicians playing with us throughout the years, but Andy has always been like a core member – basically since the beginning. … We were in choir together in high school. I think there’s kind of like an epiphany with Andy still playing with us. We’ve had other members and clearly that wasn’t like their dream to be doing that anymore. I feel like the reason why we are all still together and doing it is because we all have the same appreciation for what we’re doing.

Okay, speaking of beginnings, I must ask about the beginning of your musical partnership, Chloe and Noah. You two have been making music together since you were both teenagers.

CG: Noah and I met in 2012 when we were 14. I was playing music with my brother and we just like played for fun basically at farmers markets and stuff. [Noah] joined my brother and me, and we played all throughout high school [as] the Wildwoods.

NG: If you were to see videos of us playing at 14, you would probably turn your computer off. … I only really ever had this acoustic guitar that was my dad’s. So, I didn’t ever dive into any other kind of music other than songs that I would play on the acoustic guitar. And when I met Chloe and I learned that she played the violin, I think I just immediately felt like we should play music together. We really enjoyed each other’s company. And playing together so much over the past 13 years, I think it’s just there was no kind of epiphany at first; I think it’s been a 13-year-long epiphany

Andy, when you decided to formally join the band, you still hadn’t finished college yet – was that a big decision?

AV: I was going to college for music. When I would think about what I wanted to do after graduating college, it was travel around and play music. So, I figured might as well. I didn’t necessarily need college to do that at the moment. I can always go back, right? We’ve been great friends since before I was even playing with them. And then, after years of playing with them, it was a pretty easy decision to talk myself into it.

When you rebranded as a trio, it was also when your group started to get a lot of attention during the pandemic for the cover song videos you put up online.

NG: When we started posting his videos, the response that we were getting from the trio videos was just far better than anything that we had ever done in the past, and so we just felt, “This is what works best!”

AV: Then when the “Home” video (a cover of the 2010 Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros hit song) blew up, I think it was Halloween night. All of our phones were just notification after notification after notification, and we’re like “This is insane!” And then the next day, it dawned on us, “Okay, this is exciting, but also this is like a little opportunity here that we need to maximize.” We were trying to still practice together, because we were still kind of in the infancy of playing together as a trio.

CG: Yeah, it was kind of a stressful time during that time, because all three of us were teaching music lessons as well as doing the Wildwoods full time. So, we would meet up early in the morning. We’d start our days at like 8 a.m. and just go until 3 or 4, and then we’d all go and teach lessons. Then we would meet up after lessons to finish what we were working on.

Did the viral success of your cover song videos change what the makeup of the audiences coming to your shows?

CG: We went on tour not really knowing what to expect after our social media blew up. And then [on] our first tour, it was really amazing to see. We started just selling a bunch of tickets in cities that we had never even gone to…

@thewildwoodsband ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros🏠 #edwardsharpe #edwardsharpeandthemagneticzeros #home #folk #folkmusic #trio #folktrio #bass #uprightbass #fiddle #acousticguitar #harmonies #eartrumpetlabs #acousiccover #acousticmusic #vibes #sweatervest #fun #love #nebraska #tambourine #guitar ♬ Home by The Wildwoods – The Wildwoods

Did you fear that your cover of “Home” might become your “Free Bird”?

NG: Yeah, it was definitely a worry at first, just because we usually throw in one cover, maybe two. We’re mainly an originals band.

CG: I think it has evolved, now that it’s been a couple of years, where people are finding our original music. And they’re requesting them at shows more so than the cover songs.

AV: Even some deep cuts, too.

The songs on Dear Meadowlark, besides drawing inspiration from your home state Nebraska, also holds a warm, woodsy vibe that suggest to me about being out in nature. How would you describe your sound?

CG: Yeah, I think that’s the vibe we’re trying to go for, like aesthetically and musically. I feel like our music too is very soothing – even our upbeat songs. I don’t know if that’s just because of the harmonies fitting together. It’s very calming and soothing music.


Photo Credit: Emma Petersen

The Lil Smokies’ Matthew “Rev” Reiger on Slowing Down for Their New Album, ‘Break Of The Tide’

They may be called The Lil Smokies, but the bluegrass bangers birthed by the band originating from Big Sky country are anything but small.

Formed in the late 2000s when the group’s current sole remaining original member, Andy Dunnigan, began bringing his Dobro to picking parties during his college days in Missoula, Montana, the Smokies have gone on to become one of the West’s most captivating modern-day string bands, as they release their fourth studio album, Break Of The Tide.

Out April 4, the album is the Smokies’ first since 2021’s critically acclaimed Tornillo and features new band members, bassist Jean Luc Davis and banjoist Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose, for the first time. They’re joined by the core of Dunnigan, fiddler Jake Simpson, and guitarist “Rev” Matthew Reiger. According to Reiger, who joined the Smokies in 2015, his nickname stems from a life changing trip to California’s High Sierra Festival in 2007, where he earned the label for his love of the Stanley Brothers and gospel music. When he later joined the band, the name stuck, due to him sharing first names with their banjo player at the time, Matt Cornette.

“High Sierra changed the whole course of my life,” Reiger tells BGS. “It was at that festival that I made the decision to drop out of music school, grow out a band, get a band and most importantly, set out on a path to create a life where I really enjoyed the music I played instead of the academic pursuits. We made it back to the festival 10 years later to play it for the first time in 2017, so it’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

Ahead of the release of Break Of The Tide we caught up with Reiger to talk about the four-year process of bringing the album to life, recording in Texas, and the band’s separate lives while not together on the road.

What’s it been like for you, first joining an already well-established band and then welcoming two new members into the fold in recent years now with plenty of experience with the Smokies under your belt?

Matthew Reiger: It was a fast moving train when I jumped into the band. I had a decent place in Seattle at the time that I sublet to abandon everything I had and jump aboard. At the time we played and moved a lot faster. It was an incredible ride at the beginning and has been the whole way through, but what I love is the steady progression from runaway train to a rowboat on a gentle pond, which musically is more of where we’re at right now. This new record is as honest as anything we’ve ever recorded. Most of the songs were slowed down a bit, which is a good metaphor for how we are as people now.

Right now is about as introspective and pensive a time that I’ve ever experienced. A lot of people are making changes and finding a new path forward after COVID and the instability that ensued. For example, I recently started practicing with a metronome, not trying to play faster, but rather to see how slowly I could play a song. I want to see just how slow and deliberate I can play the song of my life. When you do that you find some challenging points where it’s not all bouncy, happy, and driving forward. The stillness is sometimes unnerving, but I’m happy we’re going through it on this record.

In that regard, [producer] Robert Ellis played a big role in slowing things down, especially on my songs. The way he heard the songs was perhaps even more honest than I heard them. It was quite a display of skill and artfulness on his behalf.

This was the second album in a row you’ve gone to Texas to record, following 2021’s Tornillo with Bill Reynolds at Sonic Ranch. What made y’all want to head back there to record with Robert at Niles City Sound this go around?

It was all for Robert. I’d fly anywhere in the world for the opportunity to work with him. He likes to produce the records he works on in Texas and I don’t blame him. We also recognized the impact of using a familiar place and equipment to a producer. On Break Of The Tide I probably played four guitars and there were a couple more involved beyond that. I think there’s a special alignment between instruments and the places where they live – they’re all there for a reason. It could be a big deal or seemingly innocuous, but there’s a reason they’re in that space and I think you can create some really cool things in those environments. That really came through on this record.

As we mentioned previously, Break Of The Tide is the Smokies’ first record since 2021. Was that four-year gap intentional and a byproduct of what you said earlier about slowing down, or is it due to something entirely different?

COVID, the resulting instabilities, and the band’s general desire to slow down were all factors, but if I had to pick a standout factor it’d be all the uncertainty within the touring music world. Just finding the time, money, and other resources necessary to continue doing that in the midst of a global shakeup was on our minds. It has taken every bit of determination and willpower I can muster – and I’m sure the rest of the guys would agree, too – to keep playing and stay together as a group. Adding an album to that was too much for us for several years and once you summon the courage to go do that you have the arduous process of working through the business side of things and everything that goes into making a record that’s non-musical.

You just touched on some of the struggles and the grind of being a touring musician, especially these last few years. Are those things y’all are singing about on songs like “Lately” and “Keep Me Down” from this new record?

You’re spot-on. I don’t think there’s any way to explain how challenging it is to juggle one’s personal life and touring. It is something I didn’t understand until I did it. The size and shape of the pieces you have to make the puzzle are always changing. It takes a radical toll on who you are at home, even when you’re not touring. You have this recovery period, you have this social adjustment, you have this relationship adjustment, and it’s sort of like you’re always jumping onto or off of a moving treadmill. Going on tour is like jumping on the moving treadmill since you often stumble because everything’s moving so fast, but then when you return home you have to slow down that uncomfortable pace and hop off the treadmill, which feels weird at first even though you’re hopping back onto stable ground since you’re so conditioned to running at full speed. Because of that there’s a lot of picking yourself up each time you go on tour and each time you come home, which is something both those songs touch on.

Similar to what we just talked about with “Lately” and “Keep Me Down,” it seems like “Break Of The Tide” and “Bad News Babe” are sister songs about being there for people you love while also knowing when to cut them off. Your thoughts?

I love the term “sister songs!” Like we talked earlier, touring takes a huge toll on personal relationships. I’ve said before that my first marriage isn’t to the Smokies or touring, but to music in general. It’s my first partner and has been for a long time. It takes a very special person to be in a relationship with someone who already has a partner, though it’s all very trendy in the coastal areas. [Laughs]

“Break Of The Tide” in particular is a song about feeling powerless, which is one of the biggest struggles we can face, and how it’s difficult to help those you love and even harder to walk away and recognize you can’t save them when those situations arise. Sometimes you just have to walk away to protect everyone involved, including yourself, which is oftentimes easier said than done.

We’ve been talking about the sacrifices of being a touring musician, but I’m also curious about your sacrifices within the band, particularly the miles between y’all being spread out in Seattle, Montana, Oklahoma, and Colorado. How has that affected how you operate together as a group?

It certainly makes it harder to get together and practice. [Laughs] I live just west of Seattle on Vashon Island, which is a 24-mile existence with a lot of retired folks. Everything’s a little slower than you expect and there’s a lot of hippie stuff going on – like I have a shower in my backyard. It’s super rural with a lot of farms, but it’s also just outside Seattle. Driving my car there is a little tricky, because I have to hop on a boat, but there’s ways to cross on a ferry and get to the city in 45 minutes to an hour. You have to put in some work to get there, which is what I love not only about this island, but the band as well.

It’s important for us all to feel like ourselves when we’re not on tour, because it’s a lot of costume-wearing when we are out on the road. Having that separation makes it easier to go back out on tour with more energy once it’s time to throw the costumes back on and jump in the van with a bunch of crazies for a while.

From the title of this record, Break Of The Tide, to songs like “Sycamore Dreams,” nature’s influence can be heard throughout the project. How would you say the outdoors informs The Smokies’ sound?

In some ways I think you could argue that nature is the only muse. There’s something so powerful about the ocean that I love. It’s the biggest thing in the world and connects nearly every point in it. In order to write in the way that I want to I have to be able to feel small and insignificant, and there’s nothing quite like an ocean to remind us just how small we all are and to be grateful for that. Because of that I’ve written very few songs that didn’t mention water.

What has music, specifically the process of bringing this new record to life, taught you about yourself?

I’ve spent most of my life trying to write music, but something that I’ve come to see – especially these past few years and what I hear on this record – is that the best art is not so much written, it is captured, and in order to do that you have to practice your listening. Writing and working on things is great, but in the end you have to turn off the metronome, stop thinking and just listen. That’s where you’ll find the beauty in every facet of life, not just in music.


Photo Credit: Glenn Ross

BGS 5+5: Countercurrent

Artist: Countercurrent (Brian Lindsay and Alex Sturbaum)
Hometown: Olympia, Washington
Latest Album: Flow (released March 3, 2025)

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

It’s a three-way tie for me between Great Big Sea (gateway drug into trad music, consummate performers, wonderful harmonies), early Solas (dazzling musicianship, tight arrangements, and an unmistakable guitar style) and the Grateful Dead (fearless improvisation, and pushing the boundaries of what is possible while keeping one foot firmly in folk). – Alex Sturbaum

Chicago fiddler Liz Carroll has probably had the most comprehensive influence on me – she is a master of creative interpretations of traditional fiddle tunes and composing new tunes in a trad idiom. Much of how I think about melodic improvisation and variation around a melody is influenced by her playing. Her recordings over the years showcase some incredible arrangements and beautiful production, ranging from very minimal, traditional-sounding, to lush and modern tracks. – Brian Lindsay

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

“Play ’em happy, sing ’em angry.” We want our music to inspire joy and resilience and to generally make folks feel good. However, we also want to call out the injustice we see in the world every day and use our music to aid the fight against fascism in whatever way we can. – AS

“Every tradition is a living tradition, if we participate.” Musical traditions don’t thrive when we only admire them inside a glass case, they benefit from curating the archives of the past, honoring the figures who have shaped it today, and welcoming new contributions that reflect today’s influences (cultural, political, technological, etc.). Most importantly, music communities thrive when we make music that we really love to listen and move to. – BL

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

We draw from a lot of different folk traditions – Celtic, old-time, maritime, jam-band music, and more – but fundamentally, Countercurrent is a dance band. We cut our teeth playing for contra dancing, that’s still the main thing we do, and everything we play is built around groove and drive. One of our favorite things in the world is bringing our music to venues outside of folk communities and getting an audience to unironically throw ass to fiddle tunes. – AS

In a nutshell, “modern fiddle tune dance jams.” Our focus is to create music that moves people, both physically and emotionally, and our vocabulary comes from the genres of Irish, American old-time, and adjacent fiddle and song traditions. We add our own compositions using that vocabulary, but incorporating our musical influences from genres like jam bands, funk, electronic, and rock that we love. – BL

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

We both really enjoy the offbeat songwriter Dan Reeder. We had the pleasure of getting to see him and his daughter Peggy in Seattle recently – one of their rare tours from Germany – and we have been enjoying singing his songs together in green rooms and tour vehicles. I also have a sizable soft spot for Owl City. – AS

I’m very fond of the music of blues singer and instrumentalist Taj Mahal. I got some of his recordings when I was quite young and got to see him live near my home when I was in high school. I also love Moon Hooch, who essentially make saxophone-based EDM with live drums (I have an unabashed love for the saxophone, and brass instruments in general, though I don’t play any). – BL

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

I once had a Thai meal with roasted coconut and pork belly right before seeing Gillian Welch perform The Harrow and the Harvest in its entirety, and to be honest I have been thinking about both ever since. – AS

A meal consisting entirely of East Asian dumplings of every variety, with Kishi Bashi, whose music I adore and also appears to be an incredibly interesting and kind person. – BL


Photo Credit: Molly Walsh

PHOTOS: The 2025 Desert Bluegrass Festival in Marana, Arizona

The first Desert Bluegrass Festival was held in 2000. Its 2025 iteration took place over the weekend of March 7 to 9 just northwest of Tucson in a beautiful desert park in Marana, Arizona. Despite a windy and rainy Friday night, the festival artists played on Saturday and Sunday bathed in beautiful south Arizona sunshine. The festival is 100% volunteer-run and its mission is to bring “family-oriented, high quality bluegrass and acoustic music entertainment” to the community and to visitors.

Perhaps this was not a high-powered festival, but it stayed true to its ambitions by creating a friendly atmosphere and a comfortable way to hear and see some excellent performances. The sound system was first class, there was plenty of room to sit, stretch out, or to get as close to the stage as anyone could want. Festival organizers made sure there was enough shade for listeners to cope with the bright desert sun and the artists performed with the beautiful Rincon Mountains and a snow-capped Mt. Lemmon in the background. Several hundred people arrayed themselves around the stage. As is often the case at bluegrass festivals, artists were accessible and friendly. And there were plenty of well-behaved bluegrass dogs enjoying the music.

Saturday’s headline group was the Becky Buller Band. Band members had been slated to lead workshops during the lunch break, but due to the crapshoot that is airline travel they were unable to get to the venue in time. However, they did an engaging set to close out a beautiful evening. Fiddler and band leader Buller led her outstanding fellow musicians through a performance of the song cycle of her newest album, Jubilee, with its message of hope, survival, and healing. This, together with some bluegrass-ified versions of Simon & Garfunkel and Joni Mitchell, contributed a more contemporary feel.

JamPak Blues ‘N’ Grass Neighborhood Band kicked off Sunday morning’s program. Based in Chandler, Arizona, the venerable Mrs. Anni Beach leads this long-running community youth band. JamPak musicians start young and some have played long enough to do some very respectable picking. Musical values are strong, and JamPak has spun off several generations of performers, including another band featured on Saturday, Cisco & the Racecars.

This was never going to be a jamgrass festival (as one attendee grumbed), given that its headline act took the stage before sunset. But the 2025 Desert Bluegrass Festival achieved a good mix of contemporary and traditional music, with consistently high level performances. It was a good chance to catch some regional bands, listen to some good sounds, and enjoy the beautiful desert setting. – Peggy Baker, Mad Angel Photos


All photos by Peggy Baker, Mad Angel Photos.

With New Double-Album, Nefesh Mountain Send Out ‘Beacons’ for Dark Times

It’s been a decade since Doni Zasloff and Eric Lindberg became musical and life partners, melding her background in musical theater and singer-songwriter music together with his blues, jazz, and banjo-picking roots. Now, with a new double album, Beacons, their band Nefesh Mountain dives deep into the myriad ways music can serve as a light in dark times.

The album’s eighteen tracks across two discs convey not only a ferocious command of numerous roots styles, but also a level of compassion and empathy lacking from so much topical music.

“We’re always trying to … walk that high wire between trying to provide an escape … and not neglect[ing] what’s so clearly happening day by day to all of us, as we watch the news and look at our phones and feel this fear and anger and depression,” says Lindberg. The news, he adds, has become “this thing that we can’t run from.”

For many artists on the folk/roots continuum, this desire to comment on the state of the world might mean focusing entirely on our current political leadership. For Nefesh Mountain, though, it means relating with their audience on an even more personal level than usual.

“That’s really part of our job, I think, as artists right now,” Lindberg says.

This echoes a message of “revolutionary love” that many other artists have gotten behind, courtesy of author Valerie Karr.

“Wonder is where love begins,” Karr wrote in her 2020 memoir, See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love. “When we choose to wonder about people we don’t know, when we imagine their lives and listen for their stories, we begin to expand the circle of who we see as part of us.”

This notion is what inspired Ani DiFranco’s 2021 album Revolutionary Love and seems to be echoed on Beacons, with Nefesh Mountain’s determination to weave radical love into their approach to progressive bluegrass and Americana music. Indeed, Beacons seems to strive toward illuminating our common humanity.

Granted, this mission of “radical love” began with the name Lindberg and Zasloff chose for their band in the first place. “Nefesh” is a Hebrew word denoting life force, the sentience that pervades all living things. Radical love requires as much vulnerable expression as it does being open to the array of scary, emotional, dark trepidation so many people have in common. Among the topics Lindberg and Zasloff breach on Beacons: coming clean about a history of substance use, discussing the hard truths around their seven-year fertility journey, and their shared determination to maintain a sense of wonder in a world that can feel relentlessly staid. (“If we’re looking for some heaven, babe/ There’s some right here on the ground,” Lindberg sings in “Heaven Is Here.”)

The first disc of Beacons features a deft exploration of the group’s Americana tones. Though Lindberg and Zasloff are from the Northeast, their Nashville connections and twang-centric improv skills deliver a set of songs that could play just fine on say WSM, the radio home of the Grand Ole Opry.

The set begins with “Race to Run” – a radio-friendly country song about overthinking the struggles of the creative life (“I’m tired of trying to stay out in front/ But you remind me … it’s your own race to run”). “What Kind of World” is a rumination on a sense so many folks share these days, of powerlessness in the face of climate change. (“Is it just me? Can you feel it too?”) But, the song’s lyrics extend into geopolitics and the sense of divide that leaves so many feeling unstable.

Asked about the song’s vulnerable and rather personal honesty, Lindberg notes: “Remember, it was a year and a half ago when the fires from Canada kind of made their way down. We live in the New York area … so the line in the song is, ‘I saw the golden hour at 11 a.m./ They say it’s from the fires, it’s not us or them.’

“Now, a year later or so,” he adds, linking last year’s fire headlines with those of 2025, this time in California. “We had to sing this in Orange County a few weeks back while they were [still seeing smoke].”

As Lindberg’s proverbial camera pans out, the song considers the role of the average citizen in the face of such behemoth powers as climate and politics. “What’s it all for if we’re not all free,” the lyrics ask, shifting from fear about climate disasters to a purpose of climate justice. This ability to move from complaint to action item in a single verse, all couched in infectious twang, is what sets Nefesh Mountain apart from many others in the country space.

The Americana disc’s finest moment, however, is “Mother,” a song written by Lindberg that addresses so many of motherhood’s side effects. “I’ve lived many lives,” Zasloff sings. “…It’s all part of the job as a mother.”

Zasloff notes that her first two children – from a previous relationship – were practically grown when she and Lindberg began trying for a child of their own. What ensued was a seven-year fertility process that echoes what so many women encounter when they discover becoming pregnant is not always as easy as it seems.

“I burst out crying when [Eric] first shared [‘Mother’] with me,” she says, “because it was so personal and so empowering and beautiful for my husband to write that about me.”

In addition to the way the song tackles their infertility journey, it also reckons with Zasloff’s history with alcohol – something she chose to leave behind in order to become a mother. “I decided in that moment of having that song come into the world,” she says, “that I was wanting to talk about something personal that I had never talked about publicly, ever. Which is the fact that I am sober. I’m an alcoholic and I just celebrated 20 years of sobriety. And I actually became sober to become a mother. It’s part of my whole story.”

Livin’ with that drink, Lord,
Always left me wanting more
But I was saved
When I became a mother

After that high point, the group moves into the traditional “Keep Your Lamp Trimmed and Burning,” which Lindberg notes has long been a part of their live show. “We’d always mess with the arrangement,” he says. “I kind of just called it in the studio. We had a little bit of extra time. I didn’t know it was going to be on the album, but it’s one that the band knew when we were down in Nashville and we kind of arranged it on the fly.”

“We’re all New York guys and jazz players,” he adds. “So we wanted to lean into that a little bit and bring this real Americana spiritual into a different sonic space, really let improvisation take over, and help that add to the obviously beautiful meaning of the song.”

Nine tracks in, Beacons switches to bluegrass, bringing in giants of the form to round out the band. Of course, anytime Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Rob McCoury, Cody Kilby, and Mark Schatz come together in any room, the sound is bound to slap. Toss in Lindberg, whose pre-Nefesh background is jazz improvisation, and something truly special crops up.

“Regrets in the Rearview” opens this second disc, feeling like a bluegrass answer to the Americana set’s opener, “Race to Run.” Its instrumental section sets a high bar for the rest of the collection, as the band hands around lead duties, featuring some of the finest bluegrass instrumentals in the biz.

But it’s “This Is Me,” coming in at bluegrass track number three, that delivers one of the double album’s finest moments. Capitalizing on the band’s commitment to building connections and “radical love,” “This Is Me” tells the bluegrass side’s most personal story.

“A question that’s been thrown at us for years now, and especially to Eric,” says Zasloff, “is: How did a Jewish kid from Brooklyn get into bluegrass? … He came to me and he said, ‘I think I wrote a response song so that people will stop asking me that question.”

“I was thinking about it,” Lindberg says. “How did I get into bluegrass? [“This Is Me” is] more about if we’re lucky enough to find that thing that really makes us come alive and makes our soul kind of catch fire –whether it’s writing a song … or painting or sculpture or any trade anyone does. If that’s the thing, then it doesn’t matter, geographically, where we’re from.

“I’m of the belief, nowadays especially, with what we’re trying to do in the roots world, [that it’s important to] try to break down all the barriers,” he continues. No matter where people are from, he adds, “there are people that find this music and go, ‘Wow, that is lighting me up!'”

With that, Lindberg hearkens back to the title of the album. That music might be a light in dark times is, of course, no new concept. (Consider “This Little Light of Mine.”) But the fact that the idea has been floated before doesn’t mean it’s not worth mentioning. At a time when so many folks feel powerless to the onslaught of news and information coursing through the internet and the real world alike, it can be easy to feel like none of us are enough to meet the moment. But Beacons is a reminder that there is no darkness without light.

“No one knows how we become who we are,” Lindberg says, before offering a word of advice. “Everyone just be yourself –regardless of the questions you get or the pain or the hate that you see. You’ve just got to stay true.”


Photo Credit: Kelin Verrette & Rafael Roy   

MIXTAPE: Strengeplukk’s Intro to Scandigrass

Since Strengeplukk (translation: “string plucking”) formed in Stavanger, Norway, in 2015, we have established ourselves as one of our country’s most dedicated bluegrass bands. For the last ten years, we’ve played hundreds of concerts spanning the entire latitude of our homeland, as well as several festivals around Europe. Known for combining differing bluegrass traditions with Norwegian lyrics in our diverse and distinct dialects, Strengeplukk consists of Andreas Barsnes Onarheim (mandolin), Jakob Folke Ossum (guitar), Mikael Jonassen (banjo), Nikolai Storevik (fiddle) and Vidar Starheimseter (bass). We are now based in Oslo, but Andreas still resides in Stavanger.

As an introduction to Scandinavian bluegrass, we have collectively gathered a playlist of Norwegian and Scandinavian bluegrass-adjacent music. The list is populated with some favourite music from our friends and colleagues on the scene, as well as some historic cuts from Norwegian bluegrass history. It also features some brand-new tracks from our newest album, Neste steg, which released on March 7! – Strengeplukk

“Aust-Vågøy” – Strengeplukk

This is one of the more progressive Strengeplukk tunes, featuring lyrics from a war poem written by Inger Hagerup in 1941. Musically, it’s a song that pays tribute to many of the present day bluegrass musicians and bands that influence us. It was composed by Andreas as a homage to his grandfather who fought in the resistance during WWII.

“Kjekt å ha” – Øystein Sunde

Inspired by the ’60s folk revival, Øystein Sunde was part of the first generation of bluegrass musicians in Norway – and started Norway’s first bluegrass band, Christiana Fusel & Blaagress in the late ’60s. For the ’80s song “Kjekt å ha,” well-known by all Norwegians, he went to Nashville to record with the best of the best session musicians at the time, including Béla Fleck, Mark O’Connor, and Jerry Douglas.

“Springar” – Earlybird Stringband

An early example of Norwegian folk music and bluegrass fusion, pioneered by our friends in the Earlybird Stringband.

“Havly” – Strengeplukk

For our fiddle player Nikolai’s graduation fiddle concert, we arranged his tunes inspired by a mix of Norwegian folk music traditions and bluegrass. The resulting arrangements turned into half of our 2020 album, Nyslått Gras. This song is based on one of the oldest forms of folk music in Norway, the folk music from Setesdalen.

“Gone With the Wind” – Dunderhead

Dunderhead is one of neighbouring Sweden’s best known bluegrass bands. This one is a real banger, sung by Angelina Lundh.

“Father’s Presence” – Lars Endrerud

Lars is mostly seen playing bass with various bands and artists, but also picks guitar, mandolin, and more like a pro. This beautiful instrumental is from his solo album, Mandouche, and features him playing his Norwegian-built Rian mandolin. Rune Thoen, who joins Lars, plays various other string instruments.

“Et hundredels sekund” – Strengeplukk

This one is about getting lost in your hobby. An amateur photographer wants to take a photo of him and his girlfriend, but he spends too long fumbling with the gear and the girl disappears.

“Oriental Hoedown” – Gammalgrass

Norway’s foremost multi-instrumentalist Stian Carstensen – known for his work with artists eclectically ranging from Jacob Collier and Michael Brecker to Mike Patton – spearheads the band Gammalgrass together with award-winning jazz fiddle player Ola Kvernberg.

“Creedence på kassett” – Ila Auto

With a four-figure number of concerts played and several Spellemannprisen (Norwegian GRAMMY) wins and nominations behind them, Ila Auto has for the past 20 years been the face of bluegrass bands featuring original songs with Norwegian lyrics. This is one of their hits.

“Legg han i bløyt” – Strengeplukk

On this uptempo song, we wanted to recreate a fast and fierce sound inspired by bands like Kentucky Thunder. The lyrics are about an angry housewife who grows tired of raising both her kids and her husband and ends up taking matters in her own hands.

“Fast Forward” – The Bluegrass Playboys

This band consists of present and former members of Øystein Sunde’s lineup. The tune is written by Dobro player Knut Hem.

“Bode’s Reel” – Open String Department

More good friends on the list. These guys are on the A-list of virtuosos in both bluegrass and jazz. Open String Department combines these genres in a smooth and tasty way. Their compositions are both complex and catchy, and their improvisations are creative and inspiring. They’ve always been someone to look up to.

“Caravelle” – Strengeplukk

Strengeplukk spent our early days touring the western parts of Norway in an old, red Volkswagen Caravelle. This song is about those days, those memories, and the fact that even though you’re on the road doing what you love, there’s no place like home.

“Annie on My Mind” – Happy Heartaches

Some of our best jamming has been together with these lovely Swedes, who we’ve run into at numerous bluegrass festivals over the years. Last year they released their debut album, A Place to Land, on CD only, but it will be available on streaming later this spring.

“Dry River” – Twang

The Danish trio Twang are kings of tasteful arrangements and their take on swing-inspired folk with a bluegrass-inspired instrumentation and beautiful vocal sounds.


Photo Credit: Nikolai Grasaasen

10 of Our Favorite Roots Cellists

Though an uncommon encounter in the roots music scene, the BGS team will always applaud a roots, folk, bluegrass, or old-time cello moment. With velvety, rich tones and a unique percussive capacity, the cello deepens the flavor of every tune it encounters. While not considered a traditional bluegrass instrument, it carries an ancestry boasting many folk interweavings – and its proximity to both the upright bass and fiddle grant it a certain amount of creative leverage while integrating into roots music.

The cello’s undefined yet familiar positionality allows cellists an unconventional playing ground for innovation; without the same distinctly canonized roots traditions as say, the fiddle or the banjo, cellists can access a broadened range of textures and styles.

This list, though it is by no means comprehensive and is curated in no particular order, pays tribute to some of our favorite cellists in a variety of roots music contexts.

Leyla McCalla

A prolific multi-instrumentalist and multilingual singer, Leyla McCalla’s impact on the roots music scene continues to be nothing short of profound. An alumna of the GRAMMY-winning Black string band the Carolina Chocolate Drops and founding member of Our Native Daughters (alongside Allison Russell, Rhiannon Giddens, and Amythyst Kiah), McCalla also has five solo releases under her belt. She is the daughter of two Haitian immigrants and activists and her work is widely informed by Afrofuturist thinkers and Afro-diasporic musical influences. The 2022 recipient of the People’s Voice Award by Folk Alliance international, McCalla’s work has been recognized time and again for her deep commitment to ancestral study and social change.

More Leyla McCalla content here.

Mike Block

Ever seen a cellist perform standing up? If you have, they’ve probably heard of Mike Block. Among the inaugural wave of cellists to perform using a strap, Block was the first cellist to ever perform standing at Carnegie Hall and he did so using his own patented creation, the Block Strap.

Sonically, Block has also explored an expanded range of motion, as he is well known for his cross-cultural collaborations. While BGS fans may know him best from the Mike Block trio, his acoustic string band with Joe K. Walsh and Zachariah Hickman, Block also tours with an electric trio called Biribà Union, a duo with Indian tabla player Sandeep Das, a six-piece American/African fusion band, and the Silk Road Ensemble, a collective formerly spearheaded by fellow cello luminary Yo-Yo Ma. Block, astoundingly, has also released 20 albums of his own music, in addition to recording, performing, and arranging for other musical giants such as Miley Cyrus, Elton John, Raffi, and more.

Yo-Yo Ma

Perhaps one of the most renowned cello players of all time, Yo-Yo Ma is widely recognized for his feats in classical music. His discography includes over 120 albums (19 of which earned GRAMMYs), both paying tribute to the classical Western canon and forging revolutionary cross-cultural connections. One of our personal favorite examples here at BGS is Ma’s participation in the Goat Rodeo Sessions, a stellar 2011 collection of classical and Appalachian entwinements featuring Ma, Stuart Duncan, Edgar Meyer, and Chris Thile, with vocals from Aoife O’Donovan showcased as well. The result is nothing short of breathtaking – truly an original fusion of soundscapes that remained unparalleled until the supergroup’s release of their sequel album, Not Our First Goat Rodeo (2020).

Read our exclusive 2020 interview with Yo-Yo Ma on Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

Monique Ross

Hailing from Milwaukee, Wisconsin and now based in Nashville, cellist Monique Ross is one half of the dynamic sibling duo SistaStrings. She and her sister, Chauntee Ross (violin), blend their classical training with gospel, R&B, and folk influences to yield music that once again proves the age-old wisdom that there is nothing quite like sibling synastry. The pair’s vocal and instrumental prowess enrapture with both distinctive emotive execution and precise relationality. Both also perform as members of Brandi Carlile’s touring band and Carlile will serve as the producer for their upcoming project currently in the works.

Find more Monique Ross and SistaStrings here and here.

Larissa Maestro

Larissa Maestro is a Filipinx multi-hyphenate talent based out of Nashville, Tennessee. Named “Instrumentalist of the Year” at the 2022 Americana Music Awards, Maestro was the first cellist and the first member of the AAPI community to receive that honor. A composer and activist as well as a musician, Maestro arranges chamber music, co-founded a community orchestra (The Nashville Concerto Orchestra), and often fundraises for non-profit organizations through their craft.

Maestro’s ability to weave lush string arrangements into a vast array of genres positions them as a highly coveted collaborator, having worked alongside the likes of Hozier, Margo Price, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Ms. Lauryn Hill, John Legend, Allison Russell, and more as well as fronting and collaborating with various projects and bands.

Natalie Haas

Known for her impeccable traditional cello playing, Natalie Haas keeps centuries of Celtic traditions ablaze. She and Scottish fiddler Alasdair Fraser have toured together for twenty-three years, reviving and reimagining the tradition of cello/fiddle duets, popular in 18th and 19th century Scottish dance music. Though historically these duets featured a droning cello and melodic fiddle, Haas’s curiosity coupled with her virtuosity explore the cello as a dynamic instrument, capable of harmony, melody, percussion, and every blended iteration thereof. As Peter Winter once said, “Natalie basically wrote the book on the cello’s place in Celtic music.”

Read more about Natalie Haas and her collaboration with her sister, Brittany, here.

Ben Sollee

Ben Sollee is a Kentucky-based cellist and activist whose interdisciplinary work seeks to connect and elevate his communities. His most recent solo album, The Long Haul, interpolates both American influences and inspirations from the global south to deliver a dynamic album that, in part, processes the many griefs he faced during COVID’s inaugural years while maintaining a buoyant sense of resilience and growth. In addition to his innovative cello playing, Sollee works as a composer, having scored several films and the podcast “Unreformed.” Sollee has also recently helped spearhead a non-profit called Canopy to support local Kentucky businesses mindful of having a positive social and environmental impact on their community.

Read more about Sollee and The Long Haul here.

Nancy Blake

A pioneer for glimmers of cello in the modern American roots landscape, Nancy Blake is a cross-genre hero. Nancy began her relationship to the instrument at age 12 and grew up playing cello in the Nashville Youth Symphony. On a fortuitous day in 1972, her band Natchez Trace opened up for prolific picker Norman Blake. The two eventually married, and Nancy aptly fused her cello playing into Norman’s musical landscape. She also picked up several other more traditional roots instruments, such as guitar, fiddle, and upright bass, appearing on many of Norman’s releases throughout his career.

Joy Adams

Dr. Joy Adams is a versatile multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer, songwriter, and educator from Washington state who currently resides in Denver. While you may know her best from her extensive touring with Nataniel Rateliff, Darol Anger, and the all-women powerhouse group Big Richard, she has accrued a sprawling list of collaborators throughout her career. From recording on the Emmy award-winning soundtrack of The Queen’s Gambit to performing with the likes of Chick Corea, Kenny Loggins, Ben Folds, Waxahatchee, and more, Adams weaves energetic innovations into each of her collaborations.

Read our recent interview with Big Richard on their brand new album, Girl Dinner.

Casey Murray

Like many of our favorite cellists, Casey Murray is a talented educator in addition to their performance and compositional ventures. A Berklee grad based in the luscious roots scene of Boston, Murray finds much inspiration in blending Celtic, old-time, folk, classical, and improvisational sensibilities – like in their work with forward-looking string band Corner House. They particularly enjoy providing musical accompaniment for contra dances around the New England area, an exercise of their keen attunement to the rhythmic possibilities the cello has to offer.

Of course, even with ten incredible entries, our list of roots cellists barely scratches the surface of this vibrant community in folk, bluegrass, and beyond. With plenty of examples – like Rushad Eggleston, Nathaniel Smith, Kaitlyn Raitz, and many more – still to pull from, we’re already prepping a Part II to our roots cello exploration. Who would you include?


Photo Credit: Ben Sollee courtesy of Big Hassle; Leyla McCalla by Noé Cugny; Yo-Yo Ma by Austin Mann.

GC 5+5: HORSEBATH

Artist: HORSEBATH
Hometown: Montréal, Québec and Halifax, Nova Scotia
Latest Album: Another Farewell (released February 7)

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

One of our biggest highlights was definitely opening for Sierra Ferrell at Toronto’s legendary Massey Hall. A few of us are from rural Ontario and grew up going to show’s there, and so to have the opportunity to step on that stage in front of our family and friends was quite special. We are extremely grateful that Sierra trusted us and our music, and it’s a memory we will cherish forever. – Etienne Beausoleil

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

We love to dance – especially swing and two-step. When we’re jamming and that heartbeat kicks in – the pulse, the groove that drives us – we know we’ve got a tune that’ll pull people onto the dance floor and keep them moving all night. – Daniel Connolly

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

I think it’s easier to use a kind of veil, in a way, when it comes to writing a certain type of song. We often write about our own experiences and it’s always an exposing thing to share. A lot of our songs are quite personal. Maybe we focus on the sadder ones, but I’ve always felt they make for a more relatable story. The “character” can be the way you play or sing it. You can easily picture yourself living through all the same experiences but in another time, era or place. When it’s coming from personal experience, playing with those different imaginary versions we all have inside of us can create an entire mood that becomes the song. – Dagen Mutter

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

Make films. – DC

We’re all artistic people. It’s hard to say what we would be doing if it weren’t music and this band, but it’s safe to say that we would all be interested in the arts. Some of us have backgrounds in filmmaking and acting, so perhaps we would be involved somehow in the filmmaking industry. – EB

What’s one question you wish interviewers would stop asking you?

What colour we would be. – DM

The meaning of our name. – DC

It’s our best kept secret and only very few people in the world know the true meaning of the name. – EB


Photo Credit: Sophia Perras

“Not Easy Shoes to Fill” – Russell Moore Gets the Gig of a Lifetime: Alison Krauss & Union Station

Russell Moore has been a professional musician and bandleader for 40 years and, though he wouldn’t describe himself as complacent, he does readily admit he generally knows what he can expect from that job.

“It’s almost like, ‘Okay, I know what this week is going to bring and what next week is going to bring,’” he shares over the phone. “It’s the same thing, even though you try to explore different opportunities … I never would have thought that at this point in my career that this opportunity would arise.”

Back in early December 2024, Alison Krauss & Union Station announced their first headline tour in nearly ten years and, with that announcement, that Moore himself would be joining the band. The bluegrass community responded with an outpouring of love for Moore, his talent, and his iconic, long-running bluegrass band IIIrd Tyme Out while marveling at how perfectly he and his voice would fit into one of the most prominent, best-loved, and best-selling string bands in music history.

Once fears of IIIrd Tyme Out being benched were totally allayed – the band has lasted 34 years so far and has no plans to curtail their efforts with Moore’s new gig – the ‘grass community set their sights on the next announcement from AKUS, which came in January: Arcadia, their first album since 2011’s Paper Airplane, will release March 28.

Arcadia will be the starting pistol for a breakneck six-month tour that will find Alison Krauss & Union Station (and their newest member, Moore) criss-crossing the continent to perform at some of the most notable venues and festivals in the scene. Many of which Moore will find himself checking off his bucket list for the very first time.

To mark the occasion, and as we anxiously count down the weeks to Arcadia and the Arcadia Tour, we sat down with Russell Moore to chat about his career, his plans for IIIrd Tyme Out, and how energized and excited he is by this once-in-a-lifetime chance. As he puts it, he has very big shoes to fill – but perhaps he is the only one concerned about having the chops to fill them.

You’ve been leading your own band for so long and you’ve been the person to “make the call” – hiring a sideman, or hiring someone to fill in, or finding a new band member. So how does it feel at this stage in your career to get this kind of call to join a band like Allison Krauss & Union Station? How does it feel to be on the receiving end for a change?

Russell Moore: What a blessing. It’s definitely the other side of the fence! For 34 years I’ve been running IIIrd Tyme Out and making the decisions or helping make the decisions. That’s a job in itself. You wear many different hats when you’re doing that.

The last time that I was in a situation like I’m going into with AKUS was back when I was with Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver. That was basically, “I’m the guy that plays guitar and I sing” and everything else was pretty much taken care of. Since then, up ‘til now with IIIrd Tyme Out, I’ve been heavily involved with all the decisions and making things happen, which like I said, it requires several different hats to wear day-in and day-out.

This is going back to that time, before IIIrd Tyme Out. And I’m excited about it. It really gives me the opportunity to focus totally on the music and my part in the band, rather than anything else that goes along with running a band. That’s exciting in itself. I will say, it’s going to take some getting used to, because I know that I’m going to be saying, “Oh, what can I do today to help this thing out?” That’s going to be a change of pace for me!

But I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, I’m looking forward to not having to worry about anything else other than my position in AKUS and just doing my job to the best of my ability and that’s it. That’s gonna be pretty cool. I guess you would say a little weight off of my shoulders.

You can set down the CEO hat and pick up the “being an instrumentalist and a vocalist and a technician” hat. Of course it’s got to feel exciting in some ways to get to step back into that role of being an equal part collaborator in a band instead of having to wear so many hats and having to be a lightning rod for everything.

RM: It is. It definitely is. I did experience just a little bit of this a few years ago. Jerry Douglas called and asked if I could go out for a few days with the Earls of Leicester, which I did and it was the same thing. I played mandolin and I sang my harmony parts with Shawn [Camp]. And I didn’t have to do anything else. That was all I had to do. For a few days there, I got to relieve myself of all the responsibilities of running a touring band on the road, and it was cool. I enjoyed it. I really did.

I’m not going to lie, I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy running a band, I’m not saying that whatsoever! But it was nice to step back for a few days and just be that. So I see this, for the six months between April and September, being sort of in the same picture. I wanna focus everything I can, all the time I’ve got, on playing the music, being in the position that I’m in, and doing the best I can. Just focusing on that. That’s going to be cool. I’m not going to have to worry about, “Did the bus get there on time? Is there something wrong with the bus?”

I know I’m not the only one who was super excited to hear this news and also thought immediately, “I never would have connected these dots myself, but who else has a better voice for that gig?” You think of Dan Tyminski, of Adam Steffey, the guys who have been singing vocals in this band, they have that sort of warm, honeyed, Mac Wiseman-like bluegrass voice – less of the high lonesome and piercing, even though you have the range and you can get up there, too.

So many people’s reaction to the announcement was that you have a voice that’s perfect for this gig and for what we all come to expect as the AKUS sound. Did you have that realization too? Did you think, “Oh yeah, this is perfect for my voice”? Or did you feel like, “I’m going to have to work at this.”

What was your general reaction, musically, to coming into this? Not just as a guitarist, but also as a vocalist – and then, I assume you’ll be playing some mandolin too, like you said you were doing with Earls of Leicester. So how are you approaching it musically?

RM: I will be playing a little bit of mandolin, not a whole lot, but my main gig I guess you’d say would be playing guitar and vocals – harmony vocals and some lead vocals as well. I’ll be honest with you, Justin, I was concerned about some of the harmony singing. That’s the biggest thing.

It’s really intricate.

RM: It is very intricate! It’s not in the same breath that I usually sing at. I tend to sing very full throated. For lack of a better term, it’s a male voice trying to sing very high. I do it in a robust way. I do have subtleties that I use as well, but this application of trying to blend with Alison’s voice is a different place to be, for me, for sure.

I do sing harmony and I have for years, here and there, but still my vocal technique has always been full throated and far more harsh, a male vocalist trying to sing very high. This is a different application. I tried to do that on all the songs that I’m going to be singing harmony on with Alison, it would be too abrasive. I’m learning how to make it work with my voice and her voice. That is a really nice combination, [you don’t want] me standing out because of my approach to the harmony.

Of course, I do have songs that I’ll be singing lead on. Those, I’m just back to my old self doing my thing. But when it comes to the harmony stuff, most of the time I’m having to really listen and focus on how to project my voice to make her sound as best as she can and not interfere.

Are you going to be singing lead on some of your own music with AKUS?

RM: No. There might be one song, and I’m not going to give away any of the stuff that she has planned for the set list, but there might be one song that people recognize from IIIrd Tyme Out during the performance. For the most part, this is Union Station. We’re not trying to bring in Russell Moore and IIIrd Tyme Out into the project whatsoever. We’re still around, we’re going to be performing when I’m not on the road with AKUS. There might be a small ode to IIIrd Tyme Out during the show, but it will be very small.

I’m not here to promote IIIrd Tyme Out with Alison Krauss. I’m here to promote Alison Krauss & Union Station and to be a part of that group and promote what this record release is and the stage show. I am a team player and I told them all, “You’ll never find anybody that’s more of a team player than I am, because I understand what that means.”

You’ve seen it on both sides. I’m glad you mentioned IIIrd Tyme Out continuing, because I think a lot of people’s natural reaction to the news was, “What about IIIrd Tyme Out!?” Of course IIIrd Tyme Out’s been going for so long, they’re gonna keep going.

RM: IIIrd Tyme Out is here to stay. When the conversations started about my being a part of Union Station going forward, I had a lot of questions. Can I do this? Should I do this? And that was one of them: “Will my band support me in this decision, or if I say yes, will they support me?”

[I consulted] my family, my wife, and everybody around me – it wasn’t a decision that was made quickly. I had to talk to people. Once I talked to my band members and I got their total support and thumbs-up affirmation – along with my wife, family, and friends – it was just like, “Okay, I have no reason not to do this. Everybody says I should and it’s a great opportunity.” At that point, I said yes.

Hopefully I can fulfill the position, because it’s not easy shoes to fill. I can tell you that right now I’m a huge Dan Tyminski fan. I have been since he came onto the scene way back – we’re talking Lonesome River Band days. He is so unique and his position with Union Station, until recently with his own band, that was the epitome of his career in my opinion.

Then, of course, he gets the head nod for Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? And the Stanley Brothers song, “Man of Constant Sorrow,” it’s still incorporated into his shows. I love the Stanley Brothers’ [version of the] song. I really do. But when I think about that song, I think about Dan Tyminski.

I guess the point is I’m a huge fan of Dan and his work. He is such an intricate part of what Union Station has been up to now. I think that those are big shoes to fill. I just hope I can facilitate that to everybody’s liking. I know there’s going to be some people that say, “No, it’s not Dan, it’s just not the same.” But I do want to say there are [many] eras of Union Station that were awesome, as well. You go back to when other people were in the group. Adam Steffey–

I’m partial to the Alison Brown era, too.

RM: Alison Brown! Oh, gosh, yes. Tim Stafford along that same time. I can’t say there’s been a bad ensemble for AKUS. It’s just evolved. And the fact that Dan was there for so long, that kind of solidifies that is the sound that most people – especially younger people who didn’t really start listening to AKUS until let’s say 20 years ago – are hearing. What they’re hearing is Dan Tyminski on guitar, singing harmony, and singing lead. That’s what they’re used to. That’s what they realize is AKUS music, and here’s this Texas guy coming in here trying to fill those shoes. I just hope I can satisfy everybody. I’ll do the best I can.

Alison Krauss & Union Station shot by Randee St. Nicholas with Russell Moore second from right.

It’s gotta feel exciting, especially after having done something like this your whole entire life, to have that sort of childlike wonder at it feeling so brand new and so fresh. Even after you have done literally exactly this for so long, there are still things that you’re excited to accomplish and new territory you’re excited to explore. That sounds really energizing and really positive.

RM: It is energizing. I’ll be honest, Justin, I’ve been playing music full time for a good 40 years. That’s awesome. And at this point, after 34 years of IIIrd Tyme Out – I’m not going to say I’ve become complacent, but it’s almost like, “Okay, I know what this week is going to bring and what next week is going to bring.” It’s the same thing, even though you try to explore different opportunities and things that come within that.

But this, I never would have thought that at this point in my career that this opportunity would arise and I’d get to do something like this. Because, like I said, I’m not so much complacent, but I know what’s ahead. When the phone call was made and we talked, I had no idea that I had another option, another fork in the road. This is absolutely surreal, in a lot of ways, for me to get this opportunity and without giving up IIIrd Tyme Out. All the support from everybody that I know, like I said, there was no reason to say no.

Another part of this that I’m really excited about [is being] able to experience some of these places, these venues, these shows that I’ve never been to before. Just being able to experience it – like playing Red Rocks Amphitheatre – and just so many places that I’ve always wanted to go to and perform at. I’m going to get to do that!

Checking them off the bucket list.

RM: There you go. It wouldn’t be possible, I don’t believe, with IIIrd Tyme Out. I was always exploring new opportunities and things like that, but I don’t think it would have been possible to perform at some of these places without being a part of AKUS.

To me, “Looks Like the End of the Road,” the first single from the upcoming album, feels like classic AKUS. The So Long, So Wrong era is what it reminded me of first. You still have those tinges of adult contemporary, you have the pads and the synth-y sound bed underneath it, and it almost feels transatlantic a bit here and there. Overall, it sounds like classic, iconic Allison Krauss & Union Station. What are your thoughts or feelings on the single or what can you tell us about that first track?

RM: I think that the song is a great representation of what is coming out with the full album release, Arcadia. It is a great nod to Alison Krauss & Union Station music over the last several years and the last several recordings.

I think that the song itself is just well written and perfect for Alison to sing. There’s a small part of harmony vocals – and what I love about the way she constructs her arrangements is that it’s not overdone with harmonies. This is Alison Krauss & Union Station, it’s not just Union Station. So the focus is on Alison and her vocals. In my opinion, that’s the way it should be. This song doesn’t come out from the get go with a five-string banjo just blasting off. It’s a great construction of the arrangement and the vocals.I think it was perfect.

The only thing that people have said is that the title itself made them think that this was the end of Allison Krauss & Union Station! Which is so far detached from the truth. It was just the first single that was released. It’s a beautifully constructed song.
I will say, this song is just a piece of the puzzle to the rest of the recording. It just paints a beautiful picture and a wonderful listening experience. When people get to hear the full album, they’ll understand what I’m talking about. It’s just awesome. It’s just, it’s a piece of the puzzle.

You’re going to be blown away. Absolutely blown away, as I was. I had my headphones on. I can’t tell you how many nights before I’d go to sleep, I’d have my headphones on [listening]. I listened to it two, three times a night, just because it was so enjoyable. It was just that good. I know that everybody else is gonna feel the same way when they hear the whole project.


Photo Credit: Matt Morrison