Tag: string band

Roots Pop Quartet TopHouse Contrast ‘Theory’ With ‘Practice’ on New EP

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With a self-made story spanning from their founding in Montana down to Nashville and beyond, roots pop quartet TopHouse know the difference between “theory” and “practice” all too well. But with their intriguing new two-part recording project, they might be some of the first to capture that difference in song.

Comprised of Joe Larson (lead vocals/guitar), Jesse Davis (guitar, mandolin), William Cook (violin) and Andy Lafave (piano), the band first released the hopeful, eminently uplifting Theory EP in 2024, and have now followed up with Practice, which dropped on Valentine’s Day (February 14). But what is the difference, really?

Both EPs fuse grass-roots simplicity with an experimental spirit – plus a rush of kinetic Celtic and Appalachian influence, just for good measure. With nearly 10 years behind them, the band have seen periods of unbridled optimism just to get a gritty reality check in the end; their songs live somewhere in the middle. Over 12 tracks in total, they cycle through warm, everyman vocals, spacious sounds, and live-in lyrics, and seem to conclude the concepts aren’t really opposites at all – more like two sides of the same coin

Where Theory is bold, bright and optimistic, Practice might be darker and a bit more reflective. Yet both are part of the broader truth – and both continually feed off of each other. Speaking with BGS ahead of Practice’s release, Larson and Davis explained where the new six-song set comes from and how it contrasts with its Theory companion.

This whole idea I think is pretty ambitious. Why don’t you tell me how the Theory and Practice EPs came about? Where’d that idea come to split this thing into two parts?

Joe Larson: Honestly, it was kind of an accident. I think Jesse and I were just hanging out one day. … We really wanted to do a full-length LP and we probably had, I don’t know, 14 or 15 songs and we were trying to find a common thread and get some idea of what this album might look like, what the concept of it might be. It just felt natural to split them into two lists. We’re like, “Alright, over here these songs are all about ideals and just optimistic worldview and all that. And then you’ve got these other songs about heartbreak and hardship and all that.” We just put ‘em into two lists and went back and forth for what felt like an eternity trying to decide what to do with this information. Eventually we were like, “Well, let’s just do a double thing.”

Do you see Practice as a more pessimistic kind of project? Or is it something different?

Jesse Davis: I wouldn’t say pessimistic. I’d say realistic. I think with Theory being sort of the ideals, maybe Practice is how they land in the real world, and it’s not pessimistic either in the sense that the EP ends with a tinge of hope. We’re big fans of hope here at TopHouse-the-band, LLC, and the EP ends with a little tinge of hope – in sort of a recognition of this cycle of striving for an ideal, falling a bit short, and maybe you fall quite a ways short. But then you pick yourself back up again and it’s almost like it’s a practice in itself.

I think also the two EPs are supposed to go together in the sense that it’s not like you listen to Theory and then you’re like, “All right, now I’m going to listen to what’s actually true and listen to Practice.” They’re supposed to kind of be combined in the sense, “Okay, there’s Practice, but the Theory is just as important to apply to the Practice.” It’s like, “Yeah, the realistic hard nature of the world is going to kick you in the teeth, but there’s a hope that you should bring to all of that, and ideals and standards that can be applied even in the hardest moments.”

JL: You might say that Theory is fake optimism, and Practice is real optimism. [Laughs]

How is the sound evolving on this one. Your fans really love that uplifting mix of rootsy, Celtic/Appalachian stuff. Has the vibe changed at all?

JD: I remember Joe and I had always had in the back of our minds writing a cowboy EP. We’re fans of artists like Colter Wall and I don’t know what you’d call it – maybe new country or underground country, whatever the term is. We just always had a little soft spot for that kind of a tone, I guess. So while we weren’t setting out to do that with this EP, I think it inevitably bled through a bit. It’s funny because sometimes the sound doesn’t line up with the lyrical message, if that makes sense. But when it doesn’t, I think I kind of enjoy that all the more.

Do you feel like your Montana roots still show up in the band? Maybe just in the willingness to think outside the box a little?

JD: I definitely think so, and for me, I think a lot of that has to do with what I’m visualizing. Maybe it’s not necessarily a musical thing so much as just a lyrical thing. But I think maybe the biggest factor with the Montana connection is that I just miss Montana, so a lot of songs point to this idea of going home or having a place. It kind of feels like we’re all wandering around right now, being away from our roots, which I think many people probably know that feeling.

The EP starts on “Meteor” and it’s got this simple, spacious sound. I just wonder, how does the image of a meteor fit in with the overall theme?

JD: It’s definitely metaphorical – or wait, sorry. Technically, it’s a simile, because it features “like” or “as.” [Laughs] It’s definitely the feeling of coming crashing down. It’s one I wrote, just sitting with my acoustic guitar and kind of strumming, and I remember feeling like it was pretty cheesy at the time I was writing it, because it was just catharsis. But sometimes either your tastes grow or things just develop into something a little bit more.

After that you get into a little bit more energy with tracks like “I Don’t Wanna Move On.” Where did that come from?

JD: “I Don’t Wanna Move On” and “Meteor” are almost sister songs in that those were two I wrote. They were written roughly around the same time and I was feeling some kind of way. “Meteor” is simile. There’s a picture to it. But “I Don’t Wanna Move On” is more of the incessant feeling of not wanting to move on. The chorus is not very ornate in its lyricism. It’s literally just that phrase repeated four times. And I feel like that fits the way sometimes an emotion just won’t leave you alone.

You guys mentioned finishing on a hopeful note, and “Falling” is definitely that. A really dreamy, beautiful song about being in awe over the ability to fall in love again, right?

JD: I think a lot of us struggle with periods of – maybe even if it’s not a full-on depression, just like a numbness to the world or just struggling with feeling anything at all. I mean, I know I definitely go through these phases. …“Falling” is about that. You wake up one morning and you’re like, “Oh, I feel my heartbeat again.” I think I wrote that one coming out of one of those seasons and just being just so grateful to get to feel joy or hope. It was funny because it was supposed to be a depressing song and then I finished it and I was like, “Huh, it’s hopeful.” But that’s probably a good thing. [Laughs]

With it being so uplifting, why did you include it on Practice and not Theory?

JD: That was definitely very intentional, because at least to me I think viewing the real-life things in just a doom-and-gloom view is pretty detrimental. And I don’t think that that’s realistic either. I mean, I know we said that Practice is sort of the realistic album where things go wrong, but I think that realism also includes the Theory. Realism includes the things that we strive towards because that is just as much a part of our life as the breakup or the loss or the addiction. The good things in life are just as real as the bad things.

Also, I think fits with the cyclical nature of the two EPs. If you go back to what Theory ends with, it’s a song that kind of descends into questioning things about life and maybe has a bit of a somber attitude to it. And if you were to go straight from that song into Practice, I think the feeling would continue. Then, as you get through Practice, you get to “Falling” and there’s a tinge of hope. If you go back to Theory from there, it begins with a song called “Better is the End,” which is maybe the most forward-thinking, hopeful tune in the whole collection. So maybe I’m connecting dots that aren’t necessarily there, but honestly, the song order sort of fits with the idea of it being cyclical.

JL: Yeah. We’re just trying to get people to listen to the EPs on repeat forever. [Laughs]

Don’t miss TopHouse performing on the BGS Stage at Bourbon & Beyond in Louisville, KY this September.

Photo Credit: Electric Peak Creative

Chatham Rabbits Face Hard Truths of Growing Old(er) On New Album, ‘Be Real With Me’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

From the onset of the Chatham Rabbits‘ new record, Be Real With Me, the North Carolina-based husband and wife duo are at a crossroads of sorts.

On one hand, its opening track, “Facing 29,” is filled with the despair of growing older, but on the other it also relishes in the wisdom and knowledge that comes with making it another year around the sun, as one half of the pair Austin McCombie sings of “Grabbing 30 by the strap of his boots.”

That relationship with age, the maturity that (typically) accompanies it, and the people that come and go along the way are a constant through line of the album in what Sarah McCombie describes as a journey of self discovery. “This is very much a millennials record,” she says.

Their fourth album, Be Real With Me is the duo’s most personal and vulnerable yet, a touch that’s already resonated well for them through things like 2020’s COVID-inspired 194-show Stay At Home Tour and an appearance on PBS’ limited series On The Road. “I strongly believe that putting the fans first, instead of the industry or the mystique of being an artist, has been what’s carried us to where we are now and keeps us motivated,” Sarah asserts.

The album is also set to be their most sonically diverse to date, with drum machines, synthesizers, pedal steel, and other new layers being brought into the mix. Ahead of its release, we spoke with the McCombies about the varying means of growth and evolution within it, how a pen pal inspired one of its songs, the family farm that keeps them grounded when not touring, and more.

You mentioned this being a very “millennial” record due to the heavy themes of growing up and growing away from certain people or things. Are there any other big themes that help to tie these songs together?

Sarah McCombie: Another thing that came up a lot when I was writing the songs for this record is the way we often tell others we’re doing the best we can even when we’re not, which is the case on songs like “Collateral Damage” and “Gas Money.” Sometimes you’re just completely maxed out with nothing left to give a situation other than just being a hindrance to yourself.

I thought about that a lot on “Matador,” which I wrote from a place of repeating the patterns of trusting people too fast or getting into situations that aren’t healthy, ignoring red flags along the way. Looking back, if I slowed down or was more mature I never would’ve found myself in those situations in the first place.

It all ties into the overarching theme of growing up, looking yourself in the mirror, and having these real, maturing moments. Sometimes we have to go through tough experiences to come out the other side. Where we’re at now, in our late 20s and early 30s, is when you typically come to grips with a lot of that and being real with yourself, like the album title suggests, so you can move forward in an authentic way.

Speaking of moving forward in an authentic way, your song “Gas Money” came about through an organic exchange with a longtime fan of the band that has evolved into your close pen pal. Care to explain?

SM: In the past, I’ve overcommitted or maxed myself out with friendships due to music, moving, or other circumstances that I can no longer be there for in the way I used to be. So when my pen pal Eve, who’s going to be 87 this year, sent me one of her letters containing a card with an orange sticky note with a $20 bill on it that said “for gas money for the long road home,” I knew I had to get it in a song. It’s such a cool line that reminded me of Patty Griffin’s “Long Ride Home” and turned into a story about wishing you could give more or that a friendship could be more, but you’re just maxed out at your current life stage and cannot possibly give more to that relationship.

Whether it’s pen pals like Eve or just the personal way you interact with your fans in general, it seems like both have gone a long way in pushing your career forward, in some cases almost more than the songs themselves.

SM: I couldn’t agree more. We draw so much inspiration for our music from our fans. None of what we do would be possible without them keeping us going. In addition to “Gas Money,” there’s a song on our 2022 record called “You Never Told Me I Was Pretty” that a fan also inspired.

Regarding “Gas Money,” I think there’s also a beauty in not wanting to over promise and under deliver in a relationship while still wanting to make a connection or stay in touch. And what kinder thing [is there] to do than pop a $20 in the mail in a letter to say, “Hey, I’m reaching out because you mean something to me”? I remember sending Eve the press release for the song when it came out to let her know how she inspired the chorus and to invite her to our next show in Charlottesville near where she lives. She got back to me saying she’d love to, but she’s already committed to a date that night. I thought it was so sweet how she let me down respectfully and had her boundaries about it, because that is something that’s a big part of this record as well.

Another big part of not just this record, but your lives as a whole is the family farm you live on in North Carolina. Mind telling me about that and how your work on it inspires and informs your music?

SM: The farm has been in my family since 1753, but we bought it from my grandfather a couple years ago, right before he passed away. It used to be 640 acres, but is 65 now; we still own the original cabin and home site, horses – it’s like its own entity.

It’s taught me that working really hard feels really good on a blood, sweat, and tears level. Moving fences, hauling water, and other physical work feel great to accomplish, but so do the aspects of planning ahead and working with others to build a vision. It’s very similar to how we collaborate in the band with other musicians or with graphic artists and other creatives. On that note, we work with another couple who are Angus beef farmers to help keep up our property, because it’s so much land and we’re gone so much of the time. No matter what though, the intentional behavior of putting time and effort into something, whether that be our land and the farm or songwriting and interacting with our fans, is definitely a place where you reap what you sow.

In addition to what we’ve already discussed about the record’s themes of growth, I’ve also seen you describe this project as a “new chapter” for the band. How so?

SM: We’re writing a lot more about ourselves and present-day experiences and less about older stories from our family. I went through a big phase earlier on writing Civil War-era ballads, but now we’re getting more comfortable being vulnerable with our fans and writing about our relationships and what we’re individually going through, which is huge.

Sonically, we’ve had the pleasure of working the last two years with Ryan Stigmon, an incredible pedal steel player who now tours with Zach Top. Getting to play with the pedal steel and its ambient sounds overlaid on guitar and banjo was really fun, new, and different for us. We also brought in a keys player on this record and have been touring with one as well. And “Gas Money” is an example of where we used a drum machine for the first time. We were taking a lot of ’90s pop influence from artists like Robyn and Annie Lennox. It’s led to us becoming more aware of how people are coming to see our shows and like our music because of the song, not because of the genre. We don’t care about labels, we just want to write what feels good.

Another new route y’all take on this album is with the song “Big Fish, Small Pond,” the band’s first instrumental. What led to its creation?

SM: Austin came up with the melody and we tracked it completely live in the studio, Small Pond, that we named the song after. We had an octave mandolin, banjo, guitar, and upright bass on it that we jammed on after popping gummies one night sitting around our microphones. It was around midnight or so and we got into this state and played through it a bunch of times until we got the right take.

It never had any lyrics – an instrumental is just something Austin and I had always wanted to try. We both typically just get by playing our instruments and take much more pride in our songwriting, but we still wanted to try our hand at it and challenge ourselves to place in the middle of the record that would be a breather – or intermission – from everything else we’re singing about.

Since you just mentioned that song being like an intermission, tell me about the song sequencing and how that’s helped to shape this record?

Austin McCombie: We’re really diligent about the song order. It’s not a perfect chronological order, but it does start with the first song written for this record, “Facing 29,” which helps to set the tone of getting older. As the record goes on, we also strategically placed the instrumental in the middle as a breather followed by some heavier songs like “Did I Really Know Him,” “One Little Orange,” and “Pool Shark’s Table.” It was a fun way to show how after all this reflection, we can still look in the mirror and acknowledge that we’re young, have problems, and may not be ready to change it all yet. Sometimes you have these heavy conversations where you leave trying to work on yourself and other times you table things because you aren’t ready for it, and that’s fine too.

What has the process of bringing Be Real With Me to life taught you about yourselves?

AM: It’s pushed me to realize I have more musical ability than I thought, in terms of co-producing and playing so many different instruments. In our genre you have the Andrew Marlins and Billy Stringses of the world and other folks who absolutely rip, but Sarah and I don’t really fit into that category. While that’s still true, it’s been fun to push ourselves with this record, which has given me more motivation to continue leaning into our songwriting in a deeper, more meaningful way than just a fun story about our family members. There’s still room for that, but clearly the magic is happening for us when we dig deeper.

SM: It’s taught me how to confront things I’m uncomfortable with and to not hold back as much. For instance, the song “Collateral Damage” starts with me singing, “I want my freedom and I want a baby.” It makes me cringe just saying it, but that song and phrase has wound up being a big talking point amongst fans and one of our most well-received songs during shows.

What do you hope others take away from listening to this record?

SM: I hope this record feels relatable to people in our age demographic and others wanting to look back on that time in their own lives, serving as a reminder that we’re all just trying to figure things out. It may be difficult, but if we can be real, honest and vulnerable with each other then it will ultimately help us be in a better place.

Photo Credit: Samuel Cooke

Big Richard, Big Feelings – Their New Album is a Delicious ‘Girl Dinner’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The members of Big Richard – Joy Adams (vocals, cello, banjo, octave mandolin), Eve Panning (vocals, fiddle), Hazel Royer  (vocals, bass, guitar), and Bonnie Sims (vocals, mandolin, guitar) – were seasoned studio and gigging musicians when they met for their first rehearsal. Familiar with one another from Colorado’s thriving music scene, their initial gathering was the result of an offer to assemble a band and perform at McAwesome Festival 2021 in Castle Rock.

Musical and personal chemistry, apparent during practice, was also a given onstage, solidly reinforced by an outpouring of support from fans. There was also a flip side – backlash to the band’s suggestive name and often-bawdy stage banter. This, it turns out, created even more incentive to continue. Big Richard was officially a band.

Their wealth of experience across musical genres – bluegrass, country, jazz, classical, rock, and beyond – opened the door for writing, recording, and performing music that pushes beyond parameters while remaining firmly planted in tradition. It shows on their new album, Girl Dinner (released January 24), produced by the band and recorded with Colorado musician and friend Eric Wiggs at his Vermillion Road Studio.

Technically their second release, following 2022’s Live from Telluride, Girl Dinner represents several firsts for the band: their first studio release, first recording of all-original material, and first with Royer, who joined the ensemble a year ago. According to the musicians, Girl Dinner demonstrates the many sides of Big Richard, everything from stripped-down, quiet instrumentation and harmonies to the blazing solos that define their performances.

When was it obvious that Big Richard would be more than a one-festival project?

Joy Adams: It wasn’t really in the first rehearsal. It was in the reception to the show that we played. Obviously, bluegrass is a jam-based genre; it’s common to sit down with your friends and play tunes. But we felt a crazy chemistry in the way we sang and played together that was apparent from the very first song we played at Bonnie’s house. When we played McAwesome Fest, for starters, our set got rained out, so we didn’t get to play the whole set. We were upset about that. We were looking for another gig just so we could get to the other songs. And we also had a bad reaction to us, too. There were people who were very upset about our name and how crass we were onstage and we got some initial hate mail after that first show. That was the moment – in my head, anyway – where we were like, “Oh, we have something here. If we can ruffle some feathers with this band, we’ve got to do this. This is an important thing.”

When and how did you build the band?

Bonnie Sims: We played that first gig in May 2021, our second gig in September 2021, and we hit the ground running in the beginning of 2022. We booked [Colorado festivals] RockyGrass and WinterWonderGrass right out of the gate, and that gave us a lot of fuel in our tank to want to invest in the creative side, start writing together, start rehearsing more, and really invest in the music, because we had these exciting opportunities to be a part of. Not long after we booked those things ourselves, we signed with Crossover Touring. Our buddy Chandler Holt has been our booking agent from the beginning and has been a huge part of helping us get to lots of festivals and play fun rooms.

Eve Panning: That first year or so was an unexpected influx of gigs. We did a ton of touring and I feel like we were kind of playing catch-up. It’s been really fun in this last year. We’ve all settled into the band a little bit more, and it’s been fun to hear the songs that everybody’s bringing and spend a lot of time working on those. You can hear that in the new album. Live From Telluride had some originals, but we were doing a lot of covers because we were so new as a band. This new album is all originals, and it’s been fun to explore that side of things as well.

How have the sound and dynamic changed since Hazel joined you?

JA: The band has changed so much. Hazel is wonderful. Her attitude is fantastic. She’s an incredible musician who has brought the level of the band up a lot. The arrangements have gotten better, the groove is tighter, and the overall balance of band vibes is wonderful. It’s everything all of us could ever have dreamed of, and I blame Hazel for that entirely. She’s such a lovely person to be around, she writes incredible songs that are deep and moving and exciting, and we’re so lucky to have her in the band. She really saved us.

BS: I agree. Hazel brings such a strong singing voice. It’s really fun to lean into the power she brings vocally, intertwine with that power, and lose ourselves in it. And her original songs are incredible. It’s a natural elevation of maturing as a group and playing together. This is year three going on to year four for the band. It’s a lot different. The pace has been incredible as far as how much time we’re spending making music together. It’s very much like a pressure cooker. It has an effect on the music itself, so the sound has evolved immensely and continues to evolve in an exciting way.

Hazel Royer: Thank you, everybody. That’s so nice. When I joined the band, everyone was, “We want to work. We want to try new things and learn new songs.” We spent two months rehearsing before we played our first gig with me on bass. We looked at the music and we became a band before playing the shows. There was an emphasis on learning new material, and there was a really good excuse to do that because there was a new member and no gigs for a couple months, so we had the space to learn new things. I’m really grateful that I got to be a part of that.

EP: When you only have four people onstage and it’s all acoustic instruments, when 25 percent of the band changes, that’s really significant. That means the sound is definitely going to change. But, like everyone said, Hazel has such a powerful voice, she’s such an accomplished musician, so it’s felt great. It’s felt like a wonderful step up.

HR: I was super-lucky because everyone in this band wanted me to exist as myself. That was the primary thing: “We want you to sing. We want you to write your own songs and bring them to the band.” That’s rare for a new person – joining a band and being like, “We want what you do as embedded immediately.” Additionally, we have a lot of crossover, musically, that we all can draw from. I grew up playing bluegrass and old-time music, and these guys are steeped in that. I also like pop music, and everybody likes that, and I had classical studies, and there’s two people who are very accomplished classical musicians, so there was a lot of crossover that made the integration of myself into the band easier than it could have been.

Let’s talk about the album – the songwriting process, song selection, your goals going into the studio.

BS: Our goal was to present something different than what we presented on our live album, which, like Eve said, was mostly covers. We recorded Live From Telluride after being a band for right at the one-year mark. It was very much the first generation of material. This is our debut studio album, but it’s our sophomore offering as far as the material, in my opinion, because it’s the second stage of the band’s development as far as it’s all original. There’s introspective and thoughtful moments within the songwriting. We have those at shows, but they’re always intermixed with high-energy, raging things where you can hop around and have a really intense, energetic experience. The album, I feel, offers up the soft side of Big Richard, in a way. We have this saying, “Big Richard, big feelings,” and the album is representative of that side of the band, which is, again, usually balanced with this different vibe live. So we took that out and just are doing the original stuff on the record, which is exciting.

Did you write deliberately to explore that softer side, or did the direction become obvious as you were writing?

JA: We didn’t intentionally write a soft album, and I hesitate to call it a soft album, because there are some burning fiddle tunes that Eve wrote and there’s a couple of aggressive songs, mostly coming out of Bonnie’s pen. The album is all over the map. The more lyrical songs were collected over the course of a year playing together. We love these songs so much and they got such a good reception at all of our shows. We did play them out pretty thoroughly before we recorded them, so it was a matter of collecting our favorite songs that we felt hit the emotional depths of “Big Richard, big feelings.” We were really proud of these songs.

HR: To go off of what Joy said, they’re our favorites. We picked them because we all were very passionate and love those songs. There are some soft songs on the album, but there’s a wide variety of things going on there. It is different than our live show by a significant margin. The album, in my view, is a piece of something that’s made out of love. We love this music and we created these arrangements together.

Once the songs were selected, what was the sequencing process?

EP: We had an initial sequence, and then we were limited by how many songs we could put on each side of the vinyl, so we had to take our original idea and rework it. The album starts and ends with songs about saying goodbye, and that hits; that feels like a powerful moment.

HR: We looked at this group of songs as a set list. We wanted to create a listening experience similar to something we would provide at a show, like, how do these songs flow into each other? Are there seamless transitions that we’re able to utilize? That’s how we looked at sequencing the album. And also separating saying goodbye a million times. At the top and the end of the album was important.

BS: Vinyl presents an opportunity for sequencing to have more of a presence again. With digital consumption, people just click what they want and add it to their own playlist. No shade; do your thing with your playlist, but with vinyl you’re going to probably sit and listen to it in the order that we put it in, because that’s the style of listening for a record. So it’s nice to have that opportunity with vinyl.

Tell us about the recording process.

JA: We recorded this album in May 2024, and we had the last master submitted in September or October. Vinyl production takes a little while, so we got the vinyl back in December, which was really exciting. Mixing and mastering is a crazy process that takes so long. That’s the part I’m very obsessed with. I was, unfortunately, the squeaky wheel the whole time, being like, “The bass needs to be half a dB [decibel] higher in this song, in this one section, but not all the other sections.” That was all me. I love the process of recording. We’re not a band that plays a song a hundred times – thank heavens for that. We tend to get things within five takes. Some solos got replayed or re-recorded, little things that got added, studio magic. I’m very proud that this album required basically no tuning and really simple edits.

EP: We also did a lot of tracks without a click. We didn’t go into the studio with a plan as far as which ones we were going to record to a click and which ones we were going to just play. But I think it keeps a lot of life in those songs as well, playing them like we do with a little bit of breadth to them.

HR: This might go without saying, but we tracked the whole thing together. We made basic tracks and there was some soloing, editing, but that was it. Just iso booths, but all four of us live.

The album was self-produced. What does the word “producer” mean to you? Did you experiment much or make changes to the songs while recording them?

JA: Production for this kind of band, to me, means deciding how we were going to record it, which is a very big discussion: are you all in the same room together, are you recording separate, are you recording to a click track, etc. And then, of course, trying to democratically decide what take has the most musical power, because you’re going to sacrifice a little perfection somewhere for the sake of something that’s riveting. That’s always the case. And then making decisions about mixing and mastering. In some ways it would have been nice to have had an external source of nature in the room, like another producer to help us make those decisions, but it was incredibly empowering to make them ourselves, because we have dragged these songs through both the mud and the sky on the touring road.

We had really figured out and dialed in the arrangements in front of thousands of people. We knew exactly what we wanted out of these songs, and so it was liberating to be able to put those down in our way and not have to fight a producer on some decisions. As far as things changing in the studio, not a whole lot changed. We were all playing the instruments that we do. Sometimes Hazel plays guitar or bass, and so we had the ability to have both bass and guitar on some of her tunes, which was really effective. That was one thing that was different than how we usually do it live.

HR: To go off what Joy said, I think the production, as far as the musical side of things goes, really did happen on the road and in rehearsals. We came into the studio knowing our songs, exactly how they go, what we want where, and what we’ve tried and tested a billion times, instead of coming up with arrangements in a studio environment.

The Colorado music scene has been very supportive. How great a part have those audiences played in taking the band to the next level?

BS: The audience has been instrumental in every step and every piece of our success. They are the success, because if they weren’t there, buying tickets and wanting to be at shows, we wouldn’t have a reason to be out touring. We’re grateful to everybody who comes to shows. When we come back to our Colorado hometown vibe, it really keeps us going. It keeps the light on for us, because those are the crowds that lift us up energetically and have been there from day one. Coming back to those audiences fills our tank in a real way.

Find more Big Richard here.

Photo Credit: Jason Innes

The Rambunctious Wisconsin Americana of Them Coulee Boys

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Some of more commonly associated marvels of the Badger State are salty cheese curds, verdant farmsteads, and acrimoniously freezing winters – as well as a whole bunch of simple roadside attractions and signature small-town revelries. It’s the adopted home of Harry Houdini and John Muir and the birthplace of a memorable host of charming eccentrics, including Orson Welles and Thornton Wilder.

Soren Staff, lead vocalist of Wisconsin’s homegrown and free-range Them Coulee Boys, was born in the rolling hills of the country. He has spent ample time explaining the sort of commonsensical people and curiously provincial patois that make the state endearing.

“A coulee is a valley with a river in it,” said Staff. “We’ve had to clear up that name every single step of the way.”

Staff hails from just outside of Taylor, Wisconsin, population 400, and he attended high school in Milwaukee. He and his four bandmates now call Eau Claire home, a small city typifying and sharing their Midwest values and sensibilities: an industrious, approachable, and self-effacing kind of existence.

“People in Eau Claire care about art and music and there is a neighborly goodness to life here,” said Staff. “Wisconsin is not a state that people associate with a lot of luminaries coming from, but I like to think we are doing our part, pulling our weight.”

Them Coulee Boys – who are readying a brand new album, their fifth, No Fun in the Chrysalis (set for release February 28 via Some Fun Records), produced by Grammy winner Brian Joseph – are a bunch of small town Wisconsinites who have found a common place to live, where locals have embraced them with joviality and applause. Banjo player Beau Janke comes from Trempealeau, a beautiful village on the Mississippi River. Soren and his brother, Jens Staff, a mandolin player, come from the Taylor area. Bass player Neil Krause was born and raised in Chippewa Falls. Drummer Stas Hable is a native of Eau Claire and a graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire’s music studies program.

Staff and Janke met at Camp Chetek, a Christian camping ministry in northwestern Wisconsin. The two camp counselors played music all day long, from the time of morning prayer, through the daily worship services in the afternoon, to evenings spent entertaining teenagers around the campfire. The following year, Jens joined Soren and Beau.

“That’s where we cut our teeth and cultivated our chemistry with each other,” said Soren. “We met at that camp and it has blossomed into a whole career.”

A few years later, Them Coulee Boys formed and the forceful folk-Americana band has lasted 11 years, which could be lauded as an eternity in the seemingly short-lived music business. Indeed, the music of Them Coulee Boys is grounded in their friendship and rooted in their desire to express a walloping good time. Such closeness, conviviality, and simple gratitude elevate the music to higher stages.

“We care about each other,” said Staff. “I trust and love these guys, personally and musically. Still, it took me time to trust in bringing an unfinished song to the others and to realize that their influences and skills and personalities will serve the song best.”

Staff was exposed to a wide variety of music in his youth, from classic rock to ’70s disco and pop, but it was the unaffected, everyday-man songs that he heard on COW97 (a Western Wisconsin country channel and his grandfather’s favorite) that created the largest impression. He was struck by the simple yet deep songs of Roger Miller and Tom T. Hall and songwriting prowess of granite and stone immortals such as Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard.

Staff, who works part-time at a local print shop, has a fondness for the contemplative capacities of the singer-songwriter experience. With mirth in his eyes, he still attends open mic night at The Plus in Eau Claire on Tuesdays, which he has done for about 10 years. But one of the most special things about Them Coulee Boys is that within the group there exists a worship of many varieties of music. Janke was raised on the thunder of Led Zeppelin, which pushes the band’s sound to an altogether different space, allowing them to turn it up to the heights of exuberance, to blaze the woods on fire.

“Finding the balance between introspective songwriting and the energy, bombast, and power of a rock and roll band, there is a good tension there. Striking a balance in that tension carves out a sound that we want to make.”

Them Coulee Boys started in a basement and, quite honestly, they never expected to be out of that basement. They played their first gig at a ski lodge in northern Wisconsin, the only ones seated and listening their parents and girlfriends. Then they signed up for the 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. spell at as many bars in the state as possible. Once, the guys played four hours of music in four separate bars in four small towns, for four nights in a row. The total haul was $1,000, split between four musicians. At that time, Staff considered their take a grand success. In 2016, the group started taking its energetic, impulsive brand of Wisconsin-Americana outside the state in earnest.

Virtually all of the group’s songs begin with lyrics, melodies, and chord structures that first arise in Staff’s head. He comes up with something rough and ready, presents it to the others, and they turn it into something utilizable, a playable song.

“My biggest job as a songwriter is to be a gatherer and be open to ideas,” said Staff. “I let images run through my head throughout the day, waiting for the words that make me want to keep writing. I’m seeking a line to build off of. If it is a good line it will stick around. If you are looking all of the time, it becomes easier to draw from that when you sit down to write something.”

Staff is pleased with the results of No Fun in the Chrysalis, the band’s fifth album. Rambunctious, playful, and wonderfully inspired, the recording is submerged in the mystery of transformation; the relentless blitz of change the most dominant theme of the songs.

“There has been massive change in my life and the other guys,” said Staff. “Kids. Marriage. Switching jobs. There is tension in change and eventually there has to be acceptance. … The first song, change is a question. But by the last song, there is an answer to it.”

The album reflects a few of those inner and interpersonal changes within the band, an encapsulation of their growth spurts and plodding development.

“Musically, we’ve embraced that we are not a string band,” Staff continued. “We have drums, electric instruments, banjos, mandolins. We’ve pushed our sound forward into different spaces, but we’ve also accepted that we come from a string band background, and could harken back to older records. There are contemplative jams. But there is also a stomping song about making out.”

No Fun in the Chrysalis reveals not only a tumultuous, change-filled time in the individual and collective lives of the musicians, but it serves as a lively expression from a band somewhere in the middle phase of their journey.

“On one hand, we are still trying to prove ourselves,” said Staff. “Though on the other hand, we have a decade worth of experience, and it shows. We’ve come a long way from the basement and hope to have many miles ahead.”

Photo Credit: Kenzie Trezise

Celebrating Black History Month: Big Al Downing, Yola, Elizabeth Cotten, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

To celebrate Black History Month – and the vital contributions of Black, Afro-, and African American artists and musicians to American roots music – BGS, Good Country, and our friends at Real Roots Radio in southwestern Ohio have partnered once again. This time, we’ll be bringing you weekly collections of a variety of Black roots musicians who have been featured on Real Roots Radio’s airwaves. You can listen to Real Roots Radio online 24/7 or via their FREE app for smartphones or tablets. If you’re based in Ohio, tune in via 100.3 (Xenia, Dayton, Springfield), 106.7 (Wilmington), or 105.5 (Eaton).

American roots music – in any of its many forms – wouldn’t exist today without the culture, stories, skills, and experiences of Black folks. Each week throughout February, we’ll spotlight this simple yet profound fact by diving into the catalogs and careers of some of the most important figures in our genres. To kick us off, RRR host Daniel Mullins shares songs and stories of Big Al Downing, Yola, Cleve Francis, Charley Crockett, Elizabeth Cotten, Dom Flemons, and Lead Belly.

We’ll return each Friday through the end of the month to bring you even more music celebrating Black History and the songs and sounds we all hold dear. Plus, you can find a full playlist with more than 100 songs below from dozens and dozens of seminal artists, performers, songwriters, and instrumentalists from every corner of folk, country, bluegrass, old-time, blues, and beyond.

Black history is American roots music history; the two are inseparable. As we celebrate Black History Month and its legacy, we hope you’ll join us in holding up and appreciating the artists who make country, bluegrass, blues, folk, and Americana the incredible and impactful genres that they are today.

Big Al Downing (1940 – 2005)

Big Al Downing was an engaging entertainer whose winding career included forays into many genres, including country music. An Oklahoma boy, Downing played piano on Wanda Jackson’s signature rockabilly hit, “Let’s Have A Party,” before pursuing a solo career, finding some mainstream success, dabbling in R&B, and even scoring a Number 1 disco hit, “I’ll Be Holding On.”

However, Downing made history in country as one of the earliest Black artists to find success in the genre. Beginning in the late ’70s, he would have a string of fifteen singles hit the Billboard country charts over the next decade, three of which reached the Top 20. He was nominated by the Academy of Country Music for their Top New Male Vocalist award in 1980. Big Al would be a frequent guest on the Grand Ole Opry, Hee Haw, Nashville Now, and more.

Downing’s soulful singing on hardcore country songs like “Bring It On Home” and “Touch Me (I’ll Be Your Fool Once More)” endeared him to fans, while his story song “Mr. Jones” has remained beloved by country enthusiasts. His career spanned five different decades of country, rockabilly, and more, remaining active in the country music world until shortly before his passing in 2005 after a brief battle with leukemia. Downing is a member of the Oklahoma Music Hall of Fame and Rockabilly Music Hall of Fame, and his legacy is still remembered by longtime fans of country music.

Suggested Listening:
“Mister Jones”
“Touch Me (I’ll Be Your Fool Once More)”

Yola (b. 1983)

Yola is a soul, country, and roots powerhouse! Born in the United Kingdom, Yola’s voice is a force of nature – rich, soulful, and packed with emotion. She started as a songwriter and backing vocalist before stepping into the spotlight with her 2019 debut album, the GRAMMY-nominated Walk Through Fire! Featuring contributions from Vince Gill, Molly Tuttle, Charlie McCoy, Ronnie McCoury, and more, the project was produced by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys, and quickly endeared her to roots music lovers everywhere. She even appeared as a guest vocalist with all-star group The Highwomen.

With her unique blend of country, rock, and soul, Yola shatters boundaries. In 2021, she dropped Stand for Myself, an album full of bold, genre-blending anthems that brought her more GRAMMY noms. She has even dabbled in acting as of late, appearing on Broadway in Hadestown and playing Sister Rosetta Tharpe in the hit blockbuster Elvis. Do yourself a favor and check out this bon a fide star in roots music.

Suggested Listening:
“Whatever You Want”
“Hold On” (featuring Sheryl Crow, Brandi Carlile, & Natalie Hemby)

Cleve Francis (b. 1945)

Do you remember Cleve Francis? He grew up listening to Hank Williams in Louisiana as a child before making his first guitar out of window screen wire and a King Edwards Cigar Box on his way to becoming an inspiring country artist. Cleve isn’t just a singer – but he’s a songwriter, a dreamer, and a doctor? That’s right, before he hit the stage, Cleve was saving lives.

Dr. Cleve Francis was a practicing cardiologist before he pursued his passion for country music full-time in the late ’80s. Cleve brought a fresh voice to the genre in the 1990s with his smooth voice and heartfelt lyrics that resonated with country fans, resulting in four singles on the Billboard country charts. Cleve’s style of country earned him appearances on major stages like the Grand Ole Opry, The Today Show, and more.

Though he eventually returned to medicine, Francis left an enduring legacy, inspiring many Black country artists who have followed in his wake. He was instrumental in the curation of the Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum’s “From Where I Stand: The Black Experience in Country Music” exhibit while also helping found the Black Country Music Association in the mid ’90s.

In 2021, he was recognized with a Black Opry Icon Award, and his album Walkin’ is on display at the National Museum of African American History & Culture in Washington D.C., where he could still been seen frequently performing at the legendary Birchmere music club until his retirement in 2021.

Suggested Listening:
“Love Light”
“You Do My Heart Good”

Charley Crockett (b. 1984)

One of the most authentic voices in modern American roots music, Charley Crockett has a story that sounds borderline mythical. A descendant of Davy Crockett who grew up in Texas, Crockett spent his early years busking on street corners from New Orleans to Dallas to New York, learning the art of storytelling from life itself. His travels took him to California, Paris, Spain, and Morocco before returning to Texas and releasing his debut album in 2015. Crockett’s recording output has been impressive, frequently releasing multiple albums a year and balancing his records with heartfelt originals and a deep catalog traditional songs from the likes of Tom T. Hall, Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, George Jones, Johnny Paycheck and more.

The common denominator is Charley – his voice carries a raw, timeless quality that cuts straight to the heart. Now performing at the Ryman Auditorium and on Jimmy Kimmel Live!, Charley’s rise hasn’t gone unnoticed. He’s earned critical acclaim and has racked up accolades from the American Music Association and a GRAMMY nomination. With black, Cajun, Creole and Jewish heritage, Crockett’s unique take on country and American roots music is sure to speak to music lovers everywhere for years to come.

Suggested Listening:
“Jukebox Charley”
“$10 Cowboy”

Elizabeth Cotten (1893 – 1987)

An underappreciated hero of American folk and blues, Elizabeth Cotten was born in 1893 in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Growing up in a musical family, by the time she was 7 Elizabeth taught herself to play guitar left-handed. She flipped the guitar upside down, creating her own unique picking style, now known as “Cotten picking,” which featured alternating bass notes played with her fingers while her thumb played the melody.

Elizabeth wrote her iconic song, “Freight Train,” when she was just 12 years old. This classic has been recorded by Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Tommy Emmanuel, Doc Watson, and dozens more artists across multiple genres. But her music remained largely unheard for decades as she spent much of her life working as a domestic housekeeper. It wasn’t until she reached her 60s, while working for the Seeger family – yes, that Seeger family – that her incredible talent received a proper platform. Working for a family that loved and appreciated music inspired Elizabeth to resume playing. With the Seegers’ encouragement, Elizabeth recorded her first album, Folksongs and Instrumentals with Guitar, in 1958, recorded at home by Mike Seeger, a member of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame.

Cotten went on to perform at major festivals thanks to the folk revival, w0n a GRAMMY at age 90, and inspired countless musicians before passing away in Syracuse, New York at the age of 94. Elizabeth Cotten was posthumously inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2022.

Suggested Listening:
“Shake Sugaree” [Live]
“Oh Babe, It Ain’t No Lie”

Dom Flemons (b. 1982)

Let’s shine a spotlight on a modern-day troubadour, the Grammy-winning musician, historian, and storyteller Dom Flemons, The American Songster. An avid folk music fan, Flemons was a busker in his home state of Arizona before moving cross country to North Carolina to help found the Carolina Chocolate Drops, a band that revived the nearly forgotten legacy of Black string band music.

Flemons has been a successful solo artist for the last decade-plus. He is a master of multiple instruments – banjo, bones, guitar, harmonica – you name it! His music blends old-time, folk, blues, jazz, and country, tracing the deep roots of African American contributions to American music. From the Grand Ole Opry to Carnegie Hall, Flemons brings history to life with every note.

His 2018 album, Black Cowboys, uncovered the often overlooked stories of African American pioneers in the West, earning critical acclaim and a GRAMMY nomination. Today, whether performing solo or collaborating with legends like Taj Mahal, Sam Bush, and Rhiannon Giddens, Flemons keeps the rich traditions of American roots music alive. In addition to educating audiences about the origins of roots music, Flemons creates great original music as well, truly embodying his moniker.

As The Boston Globe said, “most folk artists go by ‘singer-songwriter’ or simply ‘musician.’ But ‘American Songster’ speaks to a greater truth about the work Flemons, a multi-instrumentalist, has accomplished.” We couldn’t agree more.

Suggested Listening:
“Steel Pony Blues”
“Nobody Wrote It Down”

Lead Belly (1888 – 1949)

He was a man of legend, his voice as powerful as the chains that once bound him. Born Huddie Ledbetter in 1888, the world knows him as Lead Belly. Imprisoned and pardoned multiple times, Lead Belly carried his music from the prison yards of Louisiana to the streets of New York City.

Legend has it that his musical gift led to his release. His background makes his prison, chain gang, and work songs even more haunting, including “Midnight Special.” His original song, “Goodnight Irene,” has been recorded more than two hundred times, including versions by Ernest Tubb & Red Foley, Moon Mullican, Frank Sinatra, Jerry Reed, and Johnny Cash. It is viewed as a verified country standard.

“Duncan and Brady,” “In the Pines,” “Cotton Fields” – his songs told stories of hardship, freedom, and the American experience. Lead Belly’s music shaped folk, blues, rock, and country inspiring legends like Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bob Dylan, Robert Plant & Alison Krauss, Pete Seeger, Johnny Cash, The Johnson Mountain Boys, and Nirvana.

Lead Belly died in 1949, but his music lives on. His voice still echoes in every blues riff and folk song today. Lead Belly was posthumously inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1988.

Suggested Listening:
“Black Girl (In The Pines)”
“Irene (Goodnight Irene)”

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Photo Credit: Big Al Downing via Team Entertainment Records; Elizabeth Cotten via Smithsonian Folkways Recordings; Yola by Valeria Rios.

Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson Announce Duo Album with “Hook and Line” Video

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Two of the world’s preeminent experts on folk, old-time, and string band traditions (and on Black folks’ seminal contributions to these art forms), Rhiannon Giddens and Justin Robinson have announced they are reuniting on a brand new album, What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow (set for release April 18 on Nonesuch Records). The project will feature 18 traditional North Carolina fiddle and banjo tunes tracked live and in remarkably simple settings, captured entirely outdoors and accompanied only by the wind, the rustle of the foliage, and the singing of nearby birds.

With the announcement, the pair have released a live performance video of “Hook and Line” (watch above) that was recorded at the home of Joe Thompson, their late mentor and a vital roots music forebear in the Black string band tradition’s modern iteration. What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow was tracked in meaningful locations such as this, tying this body of music directly back to the land, the locales, and the people that birthed it.

Giddens, a MacArthur “Genius” and two-time GRAMMY Award winner and 11-time nominee, and Robinson, a fellow GRAMMY winner, thought leader, botanist, and ethnomusicologist, were both founding members of the incredibly important supergroup the Carolina Chocolate Drops. The string band would end up defining the early 2000s era of old-time music, making a huge mark in Americana circles and spawning multiple generations of Black roots-and-folk musicians after them.

What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow, even from just this first glimpse, promises to be a natural extension of the many ways Giddens & Robinson continue to expand our roots music discourses, broaden our understandings of the people and places that birthed these sounds, and will do so in a format that’s charming, passionate, warm, and ultimately endlessly danceable.

Catch Giddens & Robinson on tour with Dirk Powell and more beginning in April 2025 and continuing through the summer. And, don’t miss Giddens’ inaugural Biscuits & Banjos festival to be held in Durham, North Carolina, at the end of April.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the artists.

Valerie June Announces New Album, Shares Infectious Video for “Joy, Joy!”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Exuberance is the exact right mood on a day when the transcendental Valerie June announces a new album, and exuberant is certainly the vibe of her new track, “Joy, Joy!” and its brand new accompanying music video. (Watch above.) The song was dropped this morning in tandem with an announcement of the Memphis native’s new album, Owls, Omens, and Oracles, produced by M. Ward and arriving April 11 via Concord Records.

“Joy, Joy!” begins with June planting an illuminated seed singing, “There’s a light that you can find/ If you stop to take the time…” a prescient reminder to stay grounded, connected, and searching for the light. With a Rosetta Tharpe-esque Epiphone SG in hand, the track broadens and blooms, showcasing vibrant colors, whimsical scenes, and a cosmic style that June has become known for.

The antidote for darkness – for all that may challenge us – resides within us, June shouts in the chorus. It’s clear she’s not only reminding her listeners of this fact, but herself, too. “Joy, Joy!” is a delicious three-minute bite that will stick to your ribs and, hopefully, grow a seed of joy in each of our hearts.

“Everyone has felt moments of darkness, depression, anxiety, stress, ailments, or pain,” June explains, via press release. “Some say it takes mud to have a lotus flower.”

“This song reflects on the hard times we might face: to fail, to fall, to lose, to be held down, to be silenced, to be shut out yet still hold onto a purely innocent and childlike joy. I come from a heritage of ancestors who lived this truth by inventing blues music,” she continues. “Generations after theyʼve gone, the inner joy they instilled in us radiates and lifts cultures throughout the world. From the world to home, what would a city council focused on inspiring inner joy for all of a town’s citizens look like? As the times are changing across the planet, what would it look like to collectively activate our superpowers of joy?”

It’s certainly the perfect message and song for this day and age, delivered as only an artist like Valerie June could deliver it. By another creator, it might seem saccharine or twee to face our daily reality with joy exclusively as a shield. But June demonstrates joy is just one of many important tools we all need to hold onto while we face these “hard times.” Except, this is a joy without blinders on – it’s eyes-wide-open to the truth that acknowledging and challenging hardship and inequity requires a joy that need not deny those hardships’ existence in order to have transformative power.

Owls, Omens, and Oracles is poised to continue June’s post-genre explorations of psychedelia, rock and roll, folk, Appalachian music, blues, string band, and so much more, as well as featuring special guests like the Blind Boys of Alabama and Norah Jones. No one is making music quite like Valerie June and, from this first listen especially, it seems the roots music envelope will continue to be pushed and pushed and pushed some more by June with this new release. And, June will be taking the project on the road with an extensive full band tour stretching from March through the summer. Tickets are on sale now.

Photo Credit: Marcela Avelar

LISTEN: The Devil Makes Three, “Ghosts Are Weak”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: The Devil Makes Three
Hometown: Santa Cruz, California
Song: “Ghosts Are Weak”
Album: Spirits
Release Date: January 22, 2025 (single); February 28, 2025 (album)
Label: New West Records

In Their Words: “‘Ghosts Are Weak’ is about breaking free from destructive habits and patterns. It reflects on how leaving behind a substance or lifestyle often comes with losing certain friends along the way. The song also carries a warning– escapism only works for so long. Sooner or later, the drugs lose their grip, but the ghosts of those choices grow stronger. Through raw lyrics and a haunting melody, ‘Ghosts Are Weak’ captures the struggle of moving on and the shadows left behind.” – Pete Bernhard

Photo Credit: Jin Lee

For Guitarist Jordan Tice, “Perfect” Recordings Are Never the Goal

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Bluegrass. Newgrass. Chambergrass. Jamgrass. Thrashgrass. So many sub-genres, so little time. For guitarist Jordan Tice – solo artist and longtime member of Nashville-based Hawktail – there’s no time at all, because labels don’t define art and they don’t factor into his creative process.

“I don’t necessarily think about it,” he says. “I mostly do what I feel like doing and incorporate sounds that feel relevant, that I have a personal connection to and an excitement to explore, and the ability to replicate and share. I’d like to think that personality can unite disparate things if the heart is pure.”

Tice weaves a thread of musical connectivity on his new release, Badlettsville. The EP features two covers, Bob Dylan’s “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven” and Randy Newman’s “Dayton, Ohio – 1903,” as well as the originals “Mean Old World” and the instrumental title track. The four are staples of his live shows, but only now have they been committed to recordings.

“They’re all fundamental to my show and are requested as much as my other songs, but they didn’t have a place on either the last record or the next one, so they belonged in Badlettsville,” he says. “They fit together sonically as well. As soon as we got those four things down, I was like, ‘This is something.’”

Ever busy, Tice isn’t slowing down in 2025, although the emphasis is shifting somewhat. After two hectic years, Hawktail is dialing back a bit on gigging and Tice is devoting time to another solo album. “Hawktail has an EP in the can that will hopefully get out sometime soon,” he says. “We’re doing a few festival gigs but taking a much lighter year. I’m doing some dates in support of [Badlettsville], in addition to festivals with Hawktail. But I’m trying to take a little bit of a step back to focus on making this new record.”

Your website bio begins, “Jordan Tice is a musical seeker of the most dedicated sort.” What does the term “musical seeker” mean to you?

Jordan Tice: I’m always exploring my own interests and creativity, and also exploring the music that I do play, the roots of that. I want to understand myself and everything I do, and everything that came before me, better.

Part of the art of music is communicating to anybody, not particularly musicians. The more you understand about music in general, the more you understand what works and what doesn’t. The more you do it, get out there, and play and make records, the more you understand how things register and land with people – different types of thoughts and sentiments, things like that. Music is the art of sculpting sound within a given amount of time for someone who’s giving you their ear.

How has that manifested itself over the course of your solo albums and Hawktail?

With everything you do, there’s something you want to repeat about it, but there’s also things you want to do differently. I mostly grew up writing instrumental music and Hawktail is entirely instrumental. Long about 2015 or 2016, I started writing songs like crazy, just out of nowhere, and I realized I needed an outlet for that. But the instrumental stuff is still near and dear. Keeping a foot in both doors allows me to scratch this itch and this love for both of these things I do.

Did moving to Nashville have something to do with your songwriting?

I think so. I can’t provide concrete evidence, but the coincidence is too great – the fact that I started writing songs right when I moved to Nashville. So the answer is yes, but I couldn’t tell you exactly how. I also started hanging out with a lot more songwriters. My community was more instrumental-based in Boston and New York, where I lived before, so there’s definitely the influence of some new friends I made upon moving down here.

You’ve been playing guitar since you were 12. Does it sometimes feel the same today as it did then?

Yeah. I actually started taking lessons again, from a classical guitar teacher, just because I have some time off the road this winter. There’s things I wanted to improve and I decided I needed some help. I’m always trying to improve, always listening to things, and even in the music I love, there’s still the same sense of mystery of, “How did they do that?” The breadth of everything you’re aware of and assimilated expands, but at the same time it’s the same old [thing].

What led you to classical training?

We’re not doing classical music per se, I should clarify. But a lot of the things I was hoping to work on were technical-based, and classical guitar has such a codified, rigorous, technical study and a pedagogy related to technique in a way that other genres don’t necessarily have.

I’ve studied a lot of facets of music, but I’m not formally trained by any stretch. I took some jazz guitar lessons here and there, and I studied composition, but in terms of guitar I’ve never had formal technical training. I felt I was up against some roadblocks and walls with my playing and decided I needed the help of an expert, a teacher. This [teacher] came strongly recommended from my friend Chris Eldridge from Punch Brothers, and it’s been rewarding to expand the technical facility side of things.

You played a Preston Thompson Brazilian Rosewood and your main guitar, a Collings, on Badlettsville. Tell us about those guitars.

I was at Laurie Lewis’s house in Berkeley with Brittany [Haas] from Hawktail. We were in town playing and we were helping her move some furniture. She had this Preston Thompson in the corner that she was trying to sell and I was interested. It’s from 2016. She hand-selected the cut of Brazilian rosewood, a beautiful piece of wood, and had them make it with this wood that she had sourced. I absolutely love it. It’s going to be my main touring guitar for my solo stuff coming up.

The Collings is a D1A mahogany dreadnought that I bought in 2014. It’s perfectly balanced. It almost sounds like an old guitar. The overtones are exactly right. I have a relationship with Collings, but I bought this one at The Music Emporium in Boston because I liked it so much. It’s been my main axe for the last ten years. It’s what I play in Hawktail and what I recorded my last solo record on.

I brought both of those guitars to the studio, in addition to this new Yamaha FG Indian rosewood guitar that I’ve been working with them for the last couple years to promote and develop. They’re great guitars, and it was a fun process getting to work with them and help get the word out. They’re really fantastic.

How do your picking styles with Hawktail, on your solo work, and with other artists come together to create your style?

I write a lot of music, so my identity as a writer maybe puts those things in the same world. So I would say that it’s filtered through the same mind, and also the conceit is that it’s my music. Hawktail is collaborative, obviously, but it’s part of the same musical world.

I’ve always looked up to Norman Blake and Doc Watson. Norman Blake does a lot of different things, but you don’t really think about it. He plays fingerstyle, flatpicking, traditional music, writes his own music, but it all makes sense in the context of his world. I’ve always admired that as an archetype for a folk musician. He’s himself first. He’s not a historian. He picks and chooses things that work in his musical world, as opposed to something outside of himself. He’s an artist that happens to combine all these folk music techniques and sources into something that’s his own.

You’re thought of primarily as an acoustic player, but you also play electric guitar. Which ones?

I grew up playing rock and roll, in addition to bluegrass and things like that. My first music was the Allman Brothers. I got together with this guy in my church and he showed me the twin lead thing. We’d learn the two leads and then we’d switch. That music is near and dear to me – Jimi Hendrix, the Allman Brothers. So I’ve always played a little electric too. I think it’s going to work its way into the next album.

My main electric is an American Standard Telecaster that I swapped out some of the pickups and modified a little bit. I put a higher-output Seymour Duncan pickup in the neck position and I made it a four-way switch, so you have the humbucker setting in addition to the normal three settings.

Also I have a Yamaha Revstar Professional that they just sent that I’ve been having fun with as well.

What do acoustic and electric guitar each bring out in your playing?

An electric allows you the opportunity to fill up a room with less effort. You can saturate a room with sounds with less notes, with less physical effort. An acoustic is a parlor instrument. It’s meant to be played in a small room with your head right up against it. As soon as you stop making noises with your hands, the noise goes away. With electric, a lot of times less is much more, and with acoustic, a medium amount is a medium amount.

With this new record, I’m going to do it with drums, so I’ve been messing around with pickups on electrics and … I don’t want to say effects, but ways to expand the breadth of the sound, get a little bit of that electric expanse, but still treating it like it’s an acoustic. That’s been a fun and interesting pursuit.

How does collaborating with other musicians push you musically?

I have a little home studio setup, but I love going to the studio. I love there being, “This is the time that we’re making the record. What happens, happens.” I think that urgency puts you into a superpower mode. Also the camaraderie. There is truly no substitute for live chemistry. AI can try all it wants, but it will never get it. The communication and sound that happens … there’s so much subconscious and physical factors that are changing constantly. You can’t substitute it.

I love the element of not trying to perfect things, of a record being a snapshot in time. Treating it that way helps you bring your A-game because it’s, “I need to be able to do this at any given time.” It makes you focus on delivering a performance, crossing all your T’s and dotting your I’s, so that it’s all there when it’s time to push “play,” or when it’s time to play with other people, or time to get in front of people.

What snapshot does Badlettsville represent?

The tunes weren’t created or arranged with the idea that they’d be on a record, so in some ways it’s like a snapshot of the live show I’ve been doing over the last couple of years. It’s really organic in that regard.

All these arrangements came about from playing live, specifically with Paul Kowert and Patrick M’Gonigle. Patrick’s been playing a lot of shows with me, and Paul is my BFF partner in crime in Hawktail and beyond, so it represents my relationship with those two guys in a big way.

Also my interests, the fact that there’s cover songs by Randy Newman and Bob Dylan. If I had to pick my two favorite songwriters, it would be them. It’s a snapshot in time of the manner in which I’m playing and thinking about music and the people I’m doing it with right now.

Photo Credit: Cameron Knowler

Combining Classical and Bluegrass, Scroggins & Rose Improvise and Inspire on ‘Speranza’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Acutely expressive, profoundly innovative, and ceaselessly gripping, Scroggins & Rose are masters of sonic storytelling. The project consists of Alisa Rose (violin) and Tristan Scroggins (mandolin), both virtuosic talents with a sprawling list of credits each in their own right. While Scroggins primarily forays in the bluegrass sphere and Rose spent her musical upbringing largely studying classical music, the two alchemize a blend of genres to achieve their distinct style.

The duo’s third collection, Speranza, relays a moving dialogue between fiddle and mandolin, drawing upon a diverse range of musical influences to weave together a thoughtful assortment of colors and textures. Initial ideas for the project began back in the quarantine days of 2020, and Speranza – which consists of six immersive instrumentals, a dynamic assortment of original and familiar tunes – now arrives nearly five years later in a moment where its intonations of hope feel just as crucial.

BGS had the pleasure of sitting down with Scroggins & Rose to discuss their origins, influences, and the percolation of their most recent release.

Congratulations on the album release! To start us off, could you talk about how the two of you came into playing together?

Alisa Rose: We both taught at NimbleFingers, which is a camp in British Columbia.

Tristan Scroggins: It’s a bluegrass week of workshops that has been going on for a couple decades. I always describe it on stage as “sleepaway camp for adults who want to learn how to play the banjo and drink.”

AR: There’s a really nice feel at that camp. Tristan was in a band with his dad at the time, so I did some shows with them there. Then one night, I remember the two of us improvising by a picnic table and we just had a really nice musical chemistry where we follow each other’s ideas around. Immediately it felt like, “Oh, this is a good musical fit.”

TS: At that time I was playing with my dad in Jeff Scroggins & Colorado, and we were touring full-time. So I just ended up in California a lot and I would tack on extra time to come hang out with Alisa. And we started writing music and playing shows. I live in Nashville now, so these days it’s more of a deliberate effort when I come out to collaborate.

At this point you’ve been able to flesh out that musical chemistry over the course of three collections. What would you say unites your musicality or differentiates it?

AR: I think when we improvise, it’s playful and creative and experimental – we’re not afraid to leave what may be reasonable behind, and sometimes that takes us to good places, and sometimes we fall on our faces. We also have a similar sense of rhythm and how we respond to it. It allows us to improvise freely because we feel rhythm in the same way. So that’s where we unify, but we have really different musical backgrounds.

Could you tell me more about that?

AR: Sure. Growing up I played a little bit of fiddle, but mostly I grew up in the classical world. I was a Suzuki kid, so I learned by ear initially, which I think has allowed me to play a lot of different music, but I was learning primarily classical violin growing up. Tristan grew up very much in the bluegrass world, and I’ve studied bluegrass and I’ve played in bluegrass bands, but I still have a different sense of melody and expressiveness. I think a lot about how to make music really expressive emotionally and I play with timings – those two things are less common in the bluegrass world.

TS: I think it’s been really valuable for me, generally musically and especially in the context of this project, to be exposed to those different ways of thinking about playing. I grew up playing with my dad, and in mandolin contests just learning how to play bluegrass, which does instigate this question of, is bluegrass expressive or not? I think it is sort of, but it’s so different from how classical music is expressive or how jazz is expressive. I’ve had to work a lot on navigating that challenge, because for me, I didn’t go to school at all for music. So much of how I play is very instinctual and this project often has me figuring out how to adapt those instincts in order to have more options, especially since there’s just two of us. We have to really be on the same page a lot of the time and work together to fill in spaces or leave holes where we want them to be – they have to line up, and it’s really obvious if they don’t.

Speranza does an excellent job at combining those classical and bluegrass sensibilities to achieve expression while still leaning into roots-like melodies. Can you tell me about the impetus behind your latest release? What drove you to create this third collection?

AR: So our first collection, Grana, was very improvised and we were a new duo. Basically we set out to make a demo – we wanted to record, like, three tunes and get some gigs. We got an Airbnb, rented some recording equipment, had our awesome engineer friend set it up for us, and we just hit record over and over for a weekend. By the end it seemed like it was an album, so that’s how that one came to be. Very improvised, very sort of exploratory. There were like 1000 takes of everything. Well, not actually 1000 because we didn’t have that long, but there was definitely a sort of trial and error of figuring out what we wanted to create.

And then for the second album, Curios, we worked out everything. We rearranged everything and really sought to emphasize the strength of melodies. A lot of that album was about making the melodies come out. To me, it’s also an exploration of different sound colors. We worked with Wes Corbett on that one and he helped bring that out in that album. We really tried to shape each tune into a little story, so they’re more composed. Some have solo sections, but they’re more like little pieces and arches – I mean, I would call them miniatures, but really they’re sort of standard length for bluegrass. In the classical world they might be considered miniatures– little, crafted, sparkly gems.

But we put [Curios] out in the pandemic, which was very anticlimactic. We were supposed to have a release tour and we worked really hard on that album for a long time. We had received a great grant from FreshGrass and were able to do a lot of things in the way we wanted. We worked with Dave Sinko as our engineer, who was awesome, and recorded in this pretty church in Nashville with Egyptian stained glass.

So the third one, Speranza, is more organic. We’ve grown as a duo in terms of creating, so we decided that instead of writing a whole record of stuff we would write and record as we went, or write and improvise as we went, and do some of both. So I believe this album combines the freedom of the first album and the shape and craft of the second album. And the material for Speranza came out of the pandemic – that was such a crazy time. Life seems sort of normal now, but a lot of the tunes started in that time and then we finished them once we could get back together.

TS: I think that in a lot of ways Speranza feels very shaped by the reality of the pandemic, 2020, things getting shut down – the first stuff that we worked on remotely, because we had to. It feels wild that we’ve been working on this for years now. It’s funny, similarly to the pandemic, it doesn’t feel like that was five years ago. We recorded it over different sessions and then mixed it over different sessions.

AR: “Pandemic Buddy” and “Reaper” are the darkest ones – those I did write in like that first month of the pandemic, but I just came up with the beginning idea and then as a duo, over two or three or four visits, we finished writing the pieces together. We’re often coming up with ideas, kind of sitting with them, and then recording voice memos and listening to them. It takes us a fair amount of time to do it and we really flesh out the arrangement and how our parts fit together in person. That tends to be pretty time-intensive. Basically we’re writing the pieces, but we’re memorizing them at the same time, with space for improv – everything is fluid, but the basic composition is pretty worked out. So our compositional process is pretty spacious and lengthy.

What was inspiring you during the composition of these pieces? Any art that you were ingesting or other cultural touchstones of during that moment?

AR: In the beginning of the pandemic, Tristan did a tune challenge, which is where some of these songs started. There was a word prompt every day to write a tune about. For example, “Reaper” began with the prompt “death.” “Pandemic Buddy” was for the prompt “friend.” It was a really nice way to channel energy at the beginning of the pandemic, when everything was crazy. I spent hours every day writing these tunes and trying to get a good video, and I think I got a little better at them as I went.

TS: I mean, it’s sort of an obvious one, but we talk a lot about Mike Marshall and Darol Anger. It’s the same mando and violin pairing, but I love listening to them and listening to other people who do this kind of new acoustic music/composing. I spend a lot of time in Nashville with Wes Corbett. Wes produced our second album, but he’s also a friend of mine, and I helped him with publicity for his first album, which has a lot of really beautifully written instrumental pieces.

It’s interesting – we spent so much time working on this in chunks and that was a very different part of my brain than the part of that was working very hard on, like, Texas-style fiddle tunes. Those weren’t crossing over, exactly. I think rather than being influenced by something specific, it’s more that I try to cultivate something within myself by listening to both stuff I like and new stuff. Absorbing all of that, letting it ferment inside, and then figuring out how to express that all together, rather than trying to emulate any one thing.

AR: I tend to think that when composing, everything you’ve ever listened to, everything that ever resonated with you and definitely anything you’ve ever played with your body or had in your body – whether you danced to it, or you physically played it – is a part of your musical sensibility. I don’t know what I was listening to when I was writing these tunes, but I definitely love Darol Anger and Mike Marshall. I also love Schubert string quartets, I love Beethoven piano sonatas, and I love Debussy piano music – I love a lot of different kinds of music, and I think all of that is part of what comes out. That’s all part of what’s in my head when I’m conceiving of new material.

Photo Credit: Lenny Gonzalez