Ed’s Picks: Tejano, Country, Bluegrass, and More

(Editor’s note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks. 

Sign up here to receive Good Country issues when they launch, direct to your email inbox via Substack.)




Sign up here to receive Good Country issues when they launch, direct to your email inbox via Substack.

One to Watch: AJ Lee & Blue Summit

With citrusy melodies full of zest and spark, AJ Lee & Blue Summit demonstrate that California bluegrass is alive and well. Based in the Bay Area, they first took to the stage in 2015. Though the group has morphed in shape and size over time, they have delivered musical excellence for nearly a decade.

Currently, the band is composed of four tremendous musicians – AJ Lee (vocals and mandolin), Scott Gates (guitar and vocals), Sullivan Tuttle (guitar and vocals), and Jan Purat (fiddle) with a couple of rotating bassists. AJ’s velvety vocals blend seamlessly atop the many textures and tones this uncommon instrumental lineup can accomplish.

With their third studio album set to be released sometime this year, AJ Lee & Blue Summit set sail for their tour across North America earlier this month. Their emotive, erudite songwriting is brought to life by the band’s natural compatibility.

What is the nature of your musical chemistry? How would you describe it?

Scott Gates: Well, we all grew up going to California bluegrass festivals, and that gives us kind of a through-line. We all grew up with similar mentors and similar principles, so we all have similar ideas of what bluegrass is and what it isn’t, and how to bend those boundaries.

What do you think makes the bluegrass scene in the Bay Area distinct from other bluegrass scenes?

SG: Yeah, I think that there’s more homogeneity in a lot of other bluegrass associations across the country. You know, Tennessee is known for its singers. North Carolina is known for its banjo players, and they turn out some serious musicians. But something I’ve noticed with a lot of Tennessee singers is that many of them sound the same. And it allows for incredible blend and unity in sound, but California tends to reward individual individuality. When somebody has a really unique voice, they’re exalted.

Jan Purat: In the Bay Area scene, there’s a surprisingly large interest in bluegrass that dates back a long time. There’s this really thriving jam scene with lots going on. People in California as a whole tend to really nerd out on bluegrass from from the mid ’40s to the ’60s, that era of the Stanley Brothers, Bill Monroe, Flatt & Scruggs, and such. A lot of reverence for traditional sound and energy, I think, is a big part of why people really gravitate towards it. And in California, trying to channel that kind of fiery energy that you find in the more traditional stuff is definitely part of the sound, as opposed to more of the second gen and third gen newgrass circuit.

A pretty cool aspect of the California scene has been discovering that amazing lexicon of music, especially as the one band member that got into bluegrass a little bit later. I came into it during my college years, but the rest of these guys all grew up together. I met Scott busking when he was like 19, and I met AJ and Sully shortly after I first started going up to Grass Valley, around when I was 22. I started out with second-generation exposure to bluegrass, like John Hartford and similar acts, but going to the festivals and getting turned onto all this amazing music from earlier definitely feels like a big part of why I fell in love with the California bluegrass scene.

So you all share similar roots – on the flip side, what would you say the biggest difference in your respective musicianship is?

AJ Lee: Well, we all like to listen to different things, even though we’re in the same band and we unify on bluegrass. I listen to a lot of indie punk on Spotify, and I know Sully listens to some dark metal. Jan is a little bit more cultured, and Scott likes hip hop. So, there are a lot of bases covered, but we also can all appreciate what the others listen to, which is also unifying in a way.

JP: Yeah, although we love bluegrass, after a certain point we play it so much, but we don’t always listen to it that much.

AJ: I don’t think I’ve actually had a listening session of bluegrass for maybe five years.

Fair enough! What is your collaboration process like with songwriting and figuring out arrangements?

AJ: Since the early days, I’ve been the primary songwriter. I do a lot of my own original material, but since Scott’s joined, he’s brought a lot of his original material to the table as well. And I think nowadays, the songwriting process is more like a collective band arrangement. I’ll bring an unfinished song to the band and someone will say something like, “There’s a part here that I’m not really too sure about. I think it needs this,” and then together we’ll come up with something. Unlike before, when we would mostly just play all of my finished songs, now it’s more of a collective Blue Summit songwriting style.

SG: And we’ve got to give credit to the original guitar player, Jesse Fichman, who definitely helped arrange and put together some serious parts for AJ’s earlier originals.

AJ: Yeah, for a while Jesse was really the only one that I would ever write with. So he had a lot of hand in the first album.

So the first two albums are pretty different in style and tone. Can you talk about what we should expect for your third?

Sullivan Tuttle: Well, the first one had a lot of electric and a lot of drums, basically on half of the songs. And then the second one was all acoustic, all the way through. This one’s maybe somewhere in between. It’s mostly acoustic, but with a little pinch of other things.

JP: Yeah, Lech Wierzynski from the California Honeydrops produced it, so there’s definitely some of his influence. He brought in a cover for AJ to sing and it ended up being really successful and a really good choice. It’s a bluegrass instrumentation take on an old school soul song – some new territory that I haven’t really heard too many bands do. So it’s pretty exciting. And it’s just super nice working with a producer for the first time. He’s also an amazing hang, and one of the funniest people and a great buddy. It was awesome to work with him.

SG: I would say that variety is the main name of the game. When we craft a set list for a show, our goal is to bring as much to the table as possible, so that we don’t have songs that sound similar or the same over and over and we’re not fighting ear fatigue at all times. So we try to bring as many different sounds and approaches and genres together as possible. And I think this album reflects that, more so than any of the others.

Okay, here’s a silly question for you. If we were in an alternate universe, and you guys were all still a group of some sort, but it wasn’t a musical group – you’re connected by some other thing, premise interest, etc. – what would it be?

ST: Could see like a Scooby-Doo type of scenario where we all investigate things together. [AJ, Jan, and Scott emphatically agree.]

JT: We’ve got our next Halloween costume now! I know I have to be Shaggy, it’s fine.

[Laughs] I can definitely see it. I’ve heard that you have famously had to navigate some tricky traveling situations. What’s your favorite one to tell people about?

JT: Rockygrass is a good one to talk about, because it was the second time that we had to do an all-night drive from somewhere like New York City or Boston to an entirely different city like six hours away. Our Boston flight kept getting delayed, so we drove all the way to Philly overnight and got the last flight out. It was brutal. We did not sleep a wink and barely got to Rockygrass in time to play our set on the main stage. And it was our first time playing the main stage there. We were just so haggard, but apparently it was good! I had no perspective because I was so sleepy, but people liked it!

ST: I think that was my favorite, because we actually made it. Other ones didn’t have a happy ending.

Wow. You all must be really great traveling companions.

AJ: Well, we have the perfect travel attire that a lot of people tend to notice.

What is it??

AJ: I think Scott is gonna take the lead on this one. [Scott dons an incomprehensibly fashionable and utilitarian navy blue robe.]

SG: It’s a towel. It’s a blanket. It’s a robe. It’s a pillow. It’s everything that you might possibly need on the road. It keeps you warm. It keeps you dry. You can sleep at noon facing the sun.

AJ: We all have one. And everyone is always asking, hey did you guys come from a pajama party?

Okay, I feel like the Scooby-Doo thing is making more and more sense. You’re coordinating and you’re tackling obstacles!

So the two guitars situation – how did that come to be? And how do you go about arranging with two guitars?

ST: We just formed the band with two guitars – me and Jesse Fichman. When we started, I was already used to playing with two guitars because I played in the family band with my sister, [Molly Tuttle], and we usually had two guitars for that, other than when she played banjo. So it felt pretty natural, to me at least. And then when Jesse left, Scott joined, and we already had all the parts arranged for two guitars. We wanted to keep him on guitar even though he also plays mandolin. When one guitar solos you still have the rhythm guitar behind it. And as long as we’re not both just slamming away on rhythm the whole time, it works out.

It does! No complaints here. So do you guys hate banjos?

AJ: No, we actually really like banjo! Just not in our band.

SG: It’s kind of nice having it this way, because it means that when we’re at a festival, and we have a buddy that plays banjo, then we can just invite them up to play with us. There’s definitely a banjo slot for certain songs, and we can interchange that whenever we want.

AJ: I would also say that when seeing other bluegrass bands without banjo, it feels kind of refreshing to not have that sonic space filled. It gives the music opportunities to go other directions if you wanted to. And the banjo can scratch an itch, for sure, but you can’t scratch for too long or it’s going to make a rash!

So you’re our One to Watch, but who are you watching? Are there any artists, creatives, musicians, etc. that you’re appreciating especially right now?

AJ: Crying Uncle!

SG: Yeah, best band at IBMA. Hands down!

AJ: Yes, definitely the best thing I saw at IBMA. Also, another young band that’s great is Broken Compass Bluegrass. They’re up and coming as well.

JT: I like Viv & Riley – really great music. And their old time band, The Onlies, is great as well. I hope that project continues.


Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

BGS 5+5: Frontier Ruckus

Artist: Frontier Ruckus
Hometown: Detroit, Michigan
Latest Album: On the Northline (out February 16)

(Editor’s Note: All answers provided by Matthew Milia.)

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

“Celebrate the minutiae.” It’s no secret that that’s what my lyrics are all about. Specificity, specificity, specificity. I truly believe that the universal resides in the particular. And, that by singing about things in extreme detail, enormous truths are unlocked. Hence my apparent mission to name every landmark of my local universe/my personal mythology: The mall where my mom worked when I was a kid, my Catholic grade school, the soccer field where I first experienced the holy human emotion of humiliation.

On the Northline is a continuation of that ongoing catalog of catharsis. Me constantly digging deeper in the junk drawer of memory. You’d think that approach would be an almost unlistenably niche experience for the audience – but I’ve found it to be the opposite. I was so stunned the first time we played in London and kids in the front row were singing lyrics back to me about obscure Michigan towns and situations. They told me after the show that I might as well have been singing about their own towns, that the truths were universal. That was one of the best feelings ever.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

We once opened for blues harmonica legend Charlie Musselwhite in Houston and his parting words for us were: “Remember, the only chords you need are I, IV, and V.” Anyone who’s listened to Frontier Ruckus knows I definitely did not heed that advice, as I’m constantly trying to insert labyrinthine chord progressions and every melodic trick I’ve absorbed from 38 years of listening to pop radio.

Advice that we’ve found more apt came from our first manager, Dolphus Ramseur – an old-school North Carolinian known for discovering the Avett Brothers. He would always say, “Matthew, a career’s not a rocket ship, it’s a balloon ride.” And though we’d often laugh at the down-home, fortune cookie flavor of that mantra, it proved truthful time and again. The little career peaks came and went – playing Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, whatever. But the thing that really allowed us to build anything of lasting value was the very gradual “one fan at a time” approach. Back-alley performances of the song someone wanted to hear, who drove from another state, sending out lyrics that someone wants tattooed in your handwriting, favoring intimate living room shows over bar gigs. I’m sure my bandmates Davey and Zach would agree, those are the things that have made Frontier Ruckus a glorious balloon ride.

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

Constantly. People think the majority of my songs addressed to a “you” are to a love interest or even an enemy, depending on the song. It’s almost always me speaking to me. Sometimes encouraging myself; sometimes beating myself up. Internal monologues, at least mine, are mercurial and neurotic. Putting them into song really helps me work through some stuff, psychologically. That bit of distance allows me healthy perspective. A chance to pep myself up to fight another day. To quote myself singing to myself: “If only you knew what you are.”

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

It’s no doubt cliched, but it has to be Dylan. My dad raised me on him and it’s what activated my love for language. The potential playfulness of words. Their athleticism and malleability. The infinitude of connotation. The element of surprise packed into unexpected metaphor. How a line can be drop-dead-serious and winking at the same time. I also think Dylan is an underrated melodist and chordal architect. Look at all the non-12-bar-blues songs on Blonde on Blonde. The energy is propellent, continually cascading in an amphetamine avalanche. And it’s not just the words, it’s the chords providing the lyrics a perfect vehicle to ride in. The erosion of really intentional chord progressions in modern music is something that worries me quite a bit.

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

I studied poetry in college under an incredible poet named Diane Wakoski who came out of the New York beat scene. She really informed my fondness for striking images, unexpected metaphor, and surprise revelations. Other than my bandmate David Jones, she was one of the earliest champions of my writing who helped me hone my voice and style.

Sometimes I wanna write songs that feel like a David Lynch film: A shiny Americana veneer on the surface, a severed ear of fractured emotion buried in the grass. I love quaint things with a shady underbelly. I’m obsessed with ’90s sitcoms set in New York, but with obvious LA studio back-lot sunlight. Any art form where sharply antithetical images are juxtaposed in magnetic conflict inspires me. On the Northline hopefully portrays a similar landscape: An insular world where the darkness and light necessitate one another.


Photo Credit: John Mark Hanson

WATCH: Gangstagrass, “The Only Way Out Is Through” (feat. Jerry Douglas)

Artist: Gangstagrass
Hometown: All over the USA! Rench: Brooklyn with Oklahoma roots; Dolio the Sleuth: Pensacola, Florida; R-SON the Voice of Reason: Philly; Danjo: Washington, D.C.; Farrow: Omaha; Sleevs: Baltimore.
Song: “The Only Way Out Is Through”
Release Date: February 7, 2024 (video); February 2, 2024 (single)
Label: Rench Audio

In Their Words: “I’m really into how much we played with tension and energy to craft this track, the dynamics came out so powerfully. Especially with the horns! (Provided by Lowdown Brass Band.) We were stunned by the quick ‘yes’ from the one and only Jerry Douglas, who put in a blisteringly intense Dobro solo. I dare you to tell me you’ve heard anything like this before. I feel like this will be a great song for psyching yourself up to kick ass at whatever you are about to do.” – Rench

“When you ask Jerry Douglas to collaborate with you and he says yes, it says something about him and it says something about you. Jerry is the quintessential progressive bluegrass musician, with one foot permanently rooted in a genuine love of musical tradition and the other foot continually stretching forward and in every direction, looking for ways to bring traditional music into new places. ‘The Only Way Out Is Through’ makes the case, fearlessly, that what we do is in the true spirit of bluegrass: innovative, collaborative, awesome.” – Danjo 

“‘The Only Way Out Is Through’ was a lotta fun to make: a bumping, triumphant track where we get to spit fire bars, a mantra of a hook, plus Jerry Douglas going BANANAS on the Dobro!” – Dolio the Sleuth

“Making Gangstagrass music is always dope. Adding some Lowdown Brass Band to the mix and a LEGEND like Jerry Douglas is even mo’ dope!” – R-SON the Voice of Reason

Track Credits:

Rench – beats, vocals
Dolio the Sleuth – MC, vocals
R-SON the Voice of Reason – MC
Jerry Douglas – Dobro
Dan “Danjo” Whitener – banjo, guitar, mandolin, vocals
B.E. Farrow – fiddle, vocals
Lowdown Brass Band – horns
Sleevs – management / behind-the-scenes


Photo Credit: Melodie Yvonne
Video Credit: Directed by TOUGH DUMPLIN & MZ.ICAR; Post-Production by Someplace Called Brooklyn.

From China to Appalachia, It’s All About Musical Community

“What do Chinese and Appalachian music have in common?” is not really the central question in the minds of Cathy Fink, Marcy Marxer, and Chao Tian, whose From China to Appalachia concerts may first appear wildly random in their combination of instruments and styles. To these expert folk musicians, the real question is, “What don’t Chinese and Appalachian music have in common?” The latter would have a much shorter answer.

There’s a sense of belonging, of homeyness, of ease to this musical collaboration. With their primary configuration including Chinese hammered dulcimer played by Tian, clawhammer five-string banjo played by Fink, and cello banjo played by Marxer, those overarching moods could feel surprising, but for this trio there is really no such thing as not belonging.

Fink and Marxer have constructed every facet of their lifelong careers with community building centered – that’s how they connected with Tian, after all, when she participated in a fellowship program at Strathmore Arts Center nearby their home in Maryland. Fink & Marxer host their hugely popular UkeFest at Strathmore, and Fink is often a mentor of fellowship artists such as Tian. When the three began making music together, they realized the seamlessness of their musical and cultural vocabularies almost immediately.

@cathybanjo @chaotianmusic #yangqin #fromchinatoappalachia #banjo #clawhammerbanjo #culturaldiplomacy #grammywinners @freshgrassfoundation #hammereddulcimer #cellobanjo #trio #concert ♬ original sound – Cathy Fink

That realization, it turns out, is contagious. Recently, a simple promotional video of the trio performing a song to highlight a slate of performances went viral on TikTok. At the time of this writing, it has gained more than 550,000 views, more than 101,000 likes, and 14,000 saves. (Theirs is a music well worth holding onto for later.) Fink, Marxer, and Tian immediately noticed an impact from the viral video at their shows, with multiple dates selling out and new fans driving hundreds of miles to catch a tour date.

Listening to the three perform, the ease and charm of the music – however disparate its parts may feel – is immediately apparent, whether through a screen, a workshop, a community event, a concert, or a sing along. It’s clear that Cathy, Marcy, and Chao are using their music to teach the world and anyone who will listen that with roots music, there’s no such thing as not belonging.

We spoke to Fink, Marxer, and Tian via FaceTime last month, as they prepared for a short tour in the mid-Atlantic and immediately following their viral TikTok. The trio will continue touring From China to Appalachia throughout 2024 with appearances planned at Wintergrass, in the Northeast with special guest Jake Blount, and beyond.

Let’s start with your recent viral video on TikTok, I wonder what you might think is so exciting about this particular combination of instruments? Because, clearly there is something about this lineup that has resonated with folks! I have a couple of my own ideas about it, but I wonder what you think is particularly electric about banjos and Chinese dulcimer together?

Cathy Fink: Chao, do you want to start?

Chao Tian: Okay! So, I play the Chinese dulcimer, right? The most common question that people ask me in this country is, “What’s the difference between the Chinese one and the American hammered dulcimer?” They share a similar history. The Chinese dulcimer was actually introduced to China by British travelers back more than 500 years ago. And, somehow I have just felt, when I play with Appalachian musicians, or play American Roots music, I feel like I’m home. This instrument actually feels the same way – back home. It just melts into this genre of music smoothly and without any problems. The music languages are quite matchable, perfectly.

I feel like if I try to collaborate with musicians of any other type of genre – like, I play with jazz musicians – I need to learn their language. For Appalachian music, I just feel like I speak it, not the native language, but some kind of accent. But, without any limitations to communicate with those musicians.

I wanted to ask you, also, because one of the first things that came to mind for me when I saw your collaboration is Abigail Washburn collaborating with Wu Fei. Could you talk a little bit about the difference between a guzheng and a dulcimer and about your approaches and how they differ?

CT: Yes, that’s another question that people think about when they see our collaboration. Some of them just bluntly ask us, “What’s the difference?” Instrumentally we have some differences [from Wu and Washburn], because Cathy and Marcy, they are multi-instrumentalists. They can play more [instruments] and our music style is versatile.

The dulcimer’s history and background is quite different from the guzheng, because guzheng is a Chinese instrument traditionally and dulcimer is actually a worldwide instrument. As I said, [the U.S.] is a home country of this instrument.

We have a collaborative vibe and more like a family vibe. Like a family reunion… I define our collaboration as an intercultural collaboration. For most people’s opinions, they see us, too, like an intercultural thing. But when people talk about intercultural collaboration, we somehow initially think about what’s the difference between these two cultures, or three cultures, or among different cultures.

Our collaboration is based on mutual understanding and cultural respect. When we started this collaboration, we noticed there are a lot of commonalities between Chinese traditional music and American roots music. So this intercultural collaboration transformed from, “Let’s just try something” into, “Let’s delve into more about the musical language, the musical form, the scales–”

Because there are similar scales we use – the pentatonic scale, the modes. The format of the folk musics are similar, very similar. I always feel like even though folk music, those little tunes are short, but they can contain very powerful, immense messages that we can deliver to people.

And I really think our title, From China to Appalachia, actually is a very clear description. Yes, literally, but it’s not only that. Some people on TikTok suggested a very interesting idea, that we should replace China with my hometown, Beijing, because Appalachia is a region and China is a country, right? But actually we use that title not to describe the geographic thing, we are talking about music. We’re talking about culture. So from China to Appalachia, there is something that strongly linkages between them. Not only musically, not only culture, but also on a people to people level.

We should try our best to find what our commonalities are, more than trying to show, “I am special! I am special! You should listen to me! You should listen to me more!” So, it’s just musical healing.

That’s such a great answer and it makes me think of, Cathy and Marcy, how you’ve always placed community so central in how you make music. It’s not something that’s an after effect of music making for you. It’s something that’s very present in the beginning stages when you make music. Can you talk about how this project is another example of how you build community with all the music making that you do?

CF: It’s definitely that and I thank you for recognizing that. Right now, we’re in the midst of a tour that is co-sponsored by Mid Atlantic Tours of Mid Atlantic Arts. To our delight, one of the criteria for presenters participating [in the program] is that there be a community outreach event. In each place that we go, that event is different. We’ve performed for some high school kids, and this weekend our outreach was playing music at a Unitarian service. I have to tell you, it was the most beautiful service of community gathering and worship without using two words that you almost always hear in a church – God and Christ. Everyone was included. They didn’t care who you worshiped. They didn’t care who you were. If you wanted to come together and be in community, then please come in the door. For us to play music in that scenario was really amazing.

In Fredonia, [New York], it just so happened that Emily Schaad – a fiddler in the old-time music community, but also a phenomenal conductor and classical musician – had just moved to Fredonia, and we were playing at the Fredonia Opera House. They reached out to Emily and said, “How about putting together a workshop?” So, Emily had her orchestra students come and she reached out to all of the regional youth bluegrass organizations. We had a room of like 75 people – her orchestra students, kids learning bluegrass, Appalachian dulcimer players, tuba players, horn players, you name it. There was an amazing cello player who took over on Marcy’s cello banjo and immediately understood what it was.

We put together an arrangement of a tune and that was meaningful to everybody. Then, we have something coming up this weekend in Martinsville, Virginia at a place called Piedmont Arts and we’re so excited about it. Our first set is going to be based on our repertoire, we’re just going to pick what we want for an hour long set. In our second set, there’s a Chinese watercolor artist, local to that community, who has an exhibit at Piedmont Arts right now, and he’s going to be on stage creating a new watercolor while we play music, much of it improvised.

I think this grant [from Mid Atlantic Arts] has opened the door to more community. I think it will be a centerpiece of every place we go. When this grant is finished and presenters are interested in us, one of the things that we’re going to say is, “What collaborative community thing can we do?” How can we meet more people eye-to-eye, music-to-music, or whatever it may be?

Community is one of the most important things that this show and our collaboration stands for, and we’ve made music with Chao for, I don’t know, six years or so. She did some touring with us and Sam Gleaves, which was really fun. We did a little run out to Ashe County Arts Council there, in our neighborhood. And that was an interesting test for how does this music fly in Appalachia? It was just amazing, the response.

When we started doing more work together, remember that when COVID hit, there was a lot of anti-Asian sentiment in the country. We felt like making this music together was our statement of community and of humanity. We never had to say a thing about it. We just had to all be there together and present a very honest sense of community and love.

It’s perhaps another reason why this TikTok video of yours took off. Because, I think a lot of people, whether consciously or subconsciously, when they see banjos they might not know anything about banjo music besides stereotypes. I think there’s something about this lineup, and in particular the mission that you’re bringing to the music, that makes it so inviting to folks. You’re not just saying, “Come and listen to us.” You’re saying, “Come be a part of this.”

I think that’s part of why people see and hear this music and it might come off as intellectual or cerebral music, but they’re responding to it in a very down to earth way and they feel invited by it.

CF: And it’s very participatory. I will tell you, in Richmond, when we started singing and playing “High on a Mountain,” there were a lot of people there who knew the song. We just said, “Sing it with us!” And my God, did they ever sing it with us. There are several songs in the show full of sing-along participation, and I’m going to guess that a lot of the new fans through TikTok and social media haven’t been to a lot of folk concerts where that’s kind of an expected part of what happens.

But we have a very full circle story with a piece that Chao brought to the group after she heard a recording of Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie doing it. It’s a Chinese song called, “Three Rules of Attention and Eight Points of Discipline.” They recorded it in 1975. It’s a really awkward choice in many ways, because it deals specifically with peasants who were leaving Chiang Kai-shek’s army for the Red Army. They used this particular piece of music in the Red Army to teach what I’m going to call, “rules of humanity.” When you hear and read these rules of humanity, and you look at what’s going on in the world today, you go, “Oh my God, 1928, this song?” And Chinese people in the audience feel like we’ve brought them back to their home and their childhood.
It’s a really interesting thing. Pete has, of course, a thousand people whistling on it with him. I can’t whistle worth nothing. Marcy’s pretty good at whistling. but we get the audience singing “La” and taking over the song and we’re all there together

I wanna make a quick point about Abigail and Wu Fei, because so many people make that immediate connection, too. First of all, I wanna say that we’re friends with Abigail and Chao has met Wu Fei, and I find that what we do is, separately, is very complementary. There are some differences – you know, Abby speaks fluent Chinese! Chao’s trying to teach us to sing in Chinese, and we’re working on it every day. That’s a little part of how she’s stretching us in some ways. And then we’re stretching her in some ways.

Additionally, in our show From China to Appalachia, there’s a sort of hidden parentheses: “And beyond.” From China to Appalachia (and Beyond). It’s a big focus of ours to collaborate on Chinese and Appalachian music, but it is also a real joy to pick a Django Reinhardt piece like “Dark Eyes,” which Marcy plays on the mighty ukulele. So then we have ukulele and guitar and Chinese dulcimer. Or, we’ve kind of reinvented Cousin Emmy’s “Ruby.” We have a gourd banjo, Marcy on the doumbek – she’s got a pink Barbie doumbek – and Chao on hammered dulcimer. Chao does things on hammered dulcimer that no one else does. She’s got a slide she uses on it, she’s got all these interesting sounds.

We certainly see what we do as embracing a lot of different world music concepts and basically, we feel like it’s all very complimentary. We’d love nothing better than to share a show and collaborate with Abby and Wu Fei.

That’s perfect as a segue, because I also wanted to talk about sonics and about the music itself. Marcy, I wonder if you could talk a little bit about how as you’re crafting these tunes, how are you thinking about building the ensemble? How do you decide which instruments you’re going to utilize when?

Marcy Marxer: At first, we just try a bit of everything and see what works best. For me personally, the cello banjo is working really well in this group. My main instrument is guitar, of course, and I will be playing more guitar in the future, but I love the high angelic overtones of the hammer dulcimer with Cathy’s banjo ringing and then the cello kind of being, as Chao calls it, the panda of the group. [Laughs] The giant panda. [That combination] is just a sonic sound that I’ve never heard before.

You know, the hammered dulcimer was so popular in the ‘70s and ‘80s in old-time, traditional music. Then it kind of fell out of favor. Much of that had to do with the fact that the hammered dulcimer was hard to tune and the rest of the group would have to tune to the dulcimer. But it’s such an engaging sound. I mean, it really captured my heart ever since I was a little tiny child, listening to my grandma play, and then playing it myself. I think it’s really time for the hammered dulcimer to come back. I mean, we still have a generation or two of hammered dulcimer players who are 60 and over and some younger players, but I’m not so aware of them. But, I’d love to see the hammered dulcimer really come back into American traditional music in a way that younger people can still learn from the masters.

Audiences have always loved the hammered dulcimer. It’s just like old-time festivals and jams where it kind of fell out of favor to a point that some hammered dulcimer players just don’t go.

We need to bring that back, because there’s just a spirit and a liveliness to the dulcimer that nothing else has. You’ve got your percussion, you’ve got your sparkling tones, you’ve got your deep tones. It’s a real joy to play along with, to hear Cathy’s banjo and Chao’s dulcimer together just blows me away sometimes. It’s really stunning. And then to be able to add the lower stuff and take some solos. For me, that’s the comedy part, the cello banjo solos always make people laugh.

CF: Marcy’s kind of like the pinch hitter, right? I do three things: I sing, I play whatever banjo is the best banjo for the moment, and I play rhythm guitar. Like Marcy, I think the unique center of our sound is the cello banjo, the five-string banjo, and the hammered dulcimer. But then Marcy adds ukulele. She adds a mandolin. She adds tin whistle if it’s appropriate. She has percussion things. She plays the doumbek. With each song that we play, Marcy and I are going in our heads, “What does she play that might add something to this, that we don’t mind schlepping on the road?” [Laughs]

Marcy describes this sometimes like you have this box of crayons. Chao’s got a big fat crayon, I have two or three small crayons, and Marcy owns the rest of the box! [Laughs]


Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano

Artist of the Month: Willi Carlisle

It’s not hard to imagine Willi Carlisle’s latest album, Critterland, as a decrepit-but-lovable roadside attraction, but here, the side show has decidedly taken center stage. Carlisle, a folksy, pastoral poet and songsmith, has invited all of us inside the big tent he pitched with his last record, Peculiar, Missouri, and to celebrate all of the beautiful ugliness we find in the spotlight. Produced by Darrell Scott, Critterland finds redemption in proudly – and holistically – owning and just as often subverting expectations around rurality, authenticity, community, and belonging. It’s a deft and artful confluence of schtick and performance, vulnerability and obscurity, artifice and genuineness, that could only be accomplished by a creative like Carlisle.

In Ryan Lee Cartwright’s book, Peculiar Places: A Queer Crip History of White Rural Nonconformity, the author and academic makes an astonishing case for the American societal and imperial construction of the “rural idyll,” and thereby, the co-construction of its antonym: the rural “anti-idyll.” The rural idyll is our general understanding of how rurality and the American dream intersect; of goodness and work ethic and respectability, of insiders and good ol’ boys and our kinda folks. The anti-idyll is the amorphous, intangible opposite of those white supremacist and capitalistic constructs.

Critterland is a joyous and liberated inhabitation of the latter concept, reveling in queerness, counter culture, other-hood, and so many kinds of rural, agrarian, and American anti-idylls. What are queer folks, poor folks, Black folks, brown folks, disabled folks in the country – and in country music – besides, first and foremost, antithetical representations of the American dream? The overlooked, enshadowed folks who inhabit the American anti-idyll… who is singing music for them? Who is inviting those very folks to step into the spotlight?

Willi Carlisle is certainly one. Tracks like “When the Pills Wear Off” and “The Money Grows on Trees” synthesize broad, generational, socio-economic realities that are often discussed, understood, and intellectualized – but rarely with their subjects first in mind. Carlisle is clearly making these songs for the people most impacted by their content; any translation they have in more zoomed-out contexts or to wider audiences is simply an added bonus. Others, like “Dry County Dust,” “Two-Headed Lamb,” and the titular “Critterland” seem to wink at the rural cosplay worn by all songwriters and music makers in roots music, but again, winking first to those who already understand it was always cosplay, from the very beginning.

Whether inhabiting the character of his onstage persona, which often but not always aligns with the human himself, or merely reflecting the pantheon of folks in his own life and communities, there’s a quality to Carlisle’s music and to Critterland that’s saying, “This music is for our kind of people.” And in the words of another backwoods poet, Jimmy Martin, “It takes one to know one, and I know you.” That could almost be the entire thesis statement of the album.

Darrell Scott’s production – and his own multi-pronged relationship to the anti-idyll – makes the clumsiness and haphazardness of this set of songs feel fully like a feature and not a bug. This is Critterland, after all, these side show animatronics are on their last legs and that’s why we love them. This sort of charm is certainly carried over from Peculiar, Missouri – which has delightfully variable production styles across the tracks – and really from all of Carlisle’s releases to date. (Including, if not especially, his hugely popular sessions with Western AF.)

Critterland, in the end, may not be the most magical place on earth, but it doesn’t want to be. And, it’s still a place you’ll end up returning to again and again. Because Willi Carlisle’s big tent is really, actually big enough for all of us. On our best and on our worst days and on all of the many days in between.

BGS will spend all of February celebrating Willi Carlisle as our Artist of the Month. Watch for an in-depth feature by music journalist and author Steacy Easton coming soon and, for now, enjoy our Essential Willi Carlisle playlist. Plus, don’t miss Willi and Critterland in the debut issue of Good Country, a new bi-weekly email newsletter from BGS.


Photo Credit: Madison Hurley

Chatham County Line Say Goodbye to Bluegrass, ‘Hiyo’ to Synth-grass

For nearly a quarter century, North Carolina-based Chatham County Line have pushed the boundaries of American roots music, but with their new album, Hiyo, they’ve finally knocked them down.

Released January 26, the album contains some of the band’s most far-flung soundscapes to date, as they introduce synths, drums, and other sonic elements to their repertoire for the first time ever. The resulting creations sound more like synth-grass than bluegrass, with everything from drum machines to stretched out harmonicas, harmoniums, and other oddities guiding the way. According to guitarist, vocalist, songwriter and founding member Dave Wilson, the drastic shift in direction stems in part from the departure of banjo player Chandler Holt, who stepped away from the band following 2020’s Strange Fascination to spend more time with family.

“We listen to all kinds of music so I wanted to make an album that reflected that,” Wilson tells BGS. “We knew when Chandler left that we didn’t want to just do the same thing we’d always done with a different person on banjo. That’s not how artists grow in the world. You instead look at something as a springboard for change, which is exactly what we did in moving toward a sound that more closely resembles the music we enjoy playing when nobody’s watching.”

The experimentation on Hiyo was further encouraged by its producer, Rachael Moore, who the band met during their time portraying George Jones’ backing band on the Showtime series, George & Tammy. Both the opportunity to be a part of that show — which manifested itself through a friend of a friend — and meeting Moore were complete happenstance, with the latter seeing the two parties build an instant rapport.

“Anybody that works in the studio with T. Bone Burnett that many times and has been a part of records like [Robert Plant & Alison Krauss’ Raise the Roof] is alright by me,” praises Wilson. “That’s the kind of music I listen to, so us making that connection to Rachael made us realize how hard a worker she is and how much she understood the sound we were going for. We knew then she was who we wanted to record our next album with.”

Speaking with BGS from his home near Raleigh, Wilson further touched on the band’s connection to George & Tammy, the similarities between the recording process and being on a film set, Phoebe Bridgers’ influence on one of Hiyo’s songs and more.

Who are some of the bands you’ve been listening to that helped inspire the sonic shift of Hiyo?

Dave Wilson: That last Sarah Jarosz record really blew me away. She’s just a phenom. There’s also two radio stations that I listened to religiously throughout the writing process for this album. Whenever I’m messing around with a guitar or building a tube amp in my basement I listen to the radio, and one of the stations I tune into is called “That Station” here in Raleigh. They play everything from us to Mipso – and a bunch of other local acts – in addition to bigger Americana artists making waves. That’s where I heard the Sarah Jarosz stuff.

Being tuned into what people are doing today is very important to me, because I’m a part of this too. If I’m asking people to listen to me instead of Led Zeppelin then I need to listen to Sarah Jarosz instead of Led Zeppelin, because she’s a living, breathing artist that deserves that respect. I take a lot of joy out of not only buying modern albums, but listening to radio that supports those artists as well.

On the flip side, I love WWOZ 90.7 FM in New Orleans. That’s on constantly and is full of crazy, disparate sounds, old songs, funny blues stuff and more. I never get bored of DJ Black Mold down there.

How did the rapport working with Rachael Moore on George & Tammy translate to the studio with these songs?

I’ve listened to a million records and I really wanted this one to sound like the ones in my head. In the studio we tracked three or four songs per day, then at night I’d lay in bed in disbelief at the way the music sounded better than I had ever imagined us doing. We demoed the songs, so we had an idea of what it was going to sound like, but with the additions of [Jamie Dick and John Mailander] there was a huge leap forward that outpaced my wildest imagination. I’m so glad we were able to capture that, and it wouldn’t have happened without Rachael’s knowledge and connections.

Did you notice any similarities between your experience recording this album and time on set for George & Tammy?

It was really about seeing how hard all these people work, plus the whole concept of down time vs. on time, where you have to deliver an emotional performance before sitting around for 20 minutes as the cameras get moved around before jumping right back into your role like you didn’t miss a beat. It shows you that that is the job. It’s more about sitting around mentally preparing yourself and managing your emotions between those two extremes.

That rubbed off, because in the studio it’s a lot like that, too. In most cases the songs are written long before you go to record them, so when the time comes to get in front of the microphone you’ve got to deliver it with an intensity like it’s still brand new. That’s how George Jones delivered a vocal. He left no doubt that he was the character in his songs, not just the person singing them. That’s the approach we’re trying to take so we can deliver the goods when it matters most.

One of my favorite songs on Hiyo is “Heaven,” which I understand is somewhat inspired by Phoebe Bridgers, of all people. How’d that come about?

I live about three hours from Charlotte, which is where I grew up. My father, who’s in his early 90s, started going through some Alzheimer’s stuff during COVID that had me driving back and forth often to take care of him with my mom. During those trips I got to listening to Phoebe Bridgers to the point I’d have one [album] on repeat each way of the drive. I really dig her style of writing and think some of that influence rubbed off when piecing together “Heaven.”

The song was actually more of a country shuffle in the beginning, so in the weeks prior going to the studio I got my drum machine out of the basement to make some demos for Jamie, so he’d have a template of it to reference. One day I decided to try the Fender VI on it, hit the drum machine, and got playing. Something about those sonic elements, how the words came out and the harmonica completely shifted my perspective of it.

That’s another way we approached this record when we added a drummer. We went back through our catalog and redid a bunch of old songs entirely different as if we were covering ourselves. So with this album, I approached it as if I were covering these songs and how we could change them up, because my favorite cover songs are completely different from the originals except for the story and melody.

You mentioned earlier the influence of New Orleans’ WWOZ on this record and I feel like no song better embodies that than “B S R.” Would you agree with that assessment?

It was a huge part of that song. I actually also play banjo on it in open G tuning. One day I also tuned my Stratocaster to it and began playing the opening riff, which isn’t necessarily what the song is built around, but did help it to pop when we first brought it to the studio. Since then, I began playing Stratocaster in open G with super heavy, flat line strings on it and it’s become one of our favorite songs to play.

I also have family in Mississippi and my mom’s from Alexandria, Louisiana, so I traveled there a lot as a kid and have a general knowledge of the area. To be honest, New Orleans is the coolest city in America. It’s the one that’s got soul. There’s other towns with soul, but none that can match New Orleans. There’s live music in literally 40 places every night!

I’m also fond of the change of pace provided by the instrumental “Under the Willow Tree.” How does your approach change when writing songs with lyrics vs. composing an instrumental piece like this one?

I think some songs just lend themselves to having a story told over them and some, instrumentally, can tell a story from their melody alone. When Chandler left the band it was a sign to me to up my game and dig in a little harder, because until then I’d deferred to banjo and mandolin for most of the solos and heavy lifting. I’m a huge fan of Leo Kottke and other guitar virtuosos, so “Under the Willow Tree” is my homage to players like him.

Despite not being an instrumental, another song that gives me the same feel of “Under the Willow Tree” is “Stone,” both for the wisdom it imparts and its ballad-like feel. What was the motivation behind it?

That is the one song that I wrote during the pandemic. It was informed by all of the protests that were going on and the idea that when it comes down to it, you have the ability to change not only yourself, but you can change those around you with whatever power you have at hand. That can come from a deep conversation and from exchange of ideas and respect for the other person’s opinion, but in this case it comes from our music.

Music has a way of bringing people together in a way that few other things can match — just ask Taylor Swift fans! At the end of the day, we’re all gonna be a piece of dirt that a tree grows out of, so just relax. “Stone” was born out of a simple riff and that idea questioning what is permanent in this world, because all want something positive to persevere when you’re done and your story is getting told.

One thing that I regret about the advent of recorded music is the families that used to sit around, everyone playing an instrument and singing. There’s a therapy in that that went long overlooked. It’s just really positive and healthy for everyone included to sing a bit and let the world go for a minute.


Photo Credit: York Wilson

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Sister Sadie, John Leventhal, and More

This week, BGS readers enjoyed a track premiere from California-based string band Moonsville Collective, as well as our very first Rootsy Summer Session featuring an exclusive performance by Israel Nash on the streets of Falkenberg, Sweden. Also, in this week’s edition of Out Now, we highlighted a brand new single from Mary Bragg, too.

Featured in today’s premiere round-up, You Gotta Hear This, is new music from bluegrass supergroup Sister Sadie with their illustrious friend, Ashley McBryde, plus producer, guitarist, musician extraordinaire John Leventhal, Liam Purcell & Cane Mill Road, the Grackles featuring Kat Edmonson, and North Carolina bluegrass/Americana outfit Unspoken Tradition.

We hope you enjoy a week’s worth of new music and videos; ’cause You Gotta Hear This!

Sister Sadie, “Ode to the Ozarks” (featuring Ashley McBryde)

Artist: Sister Sadie
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Ode To The Ozarks” (featuring Ashley McBryde)
Album: No Fear
Release Date: January 26, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This song was originally sent to me by a great songwriter from Nashville that we’re all big fans of, Marcus Hummon. When I heard the demo, I could hear us doing it immediately in my head and sent it around to the band. I thought it would be a great fit for us and had some awesome vocal harmony possibilities. The song was co-written by Ashley McBryde and Kat Higgins, who we’re also big fans of. In the meantime, Dani Flowers had joined Sister Sadie and is very close friends with Ashley. So of course she was an advocate for doing the song as well, and asked Ashley if she would consider singing on it with us in the studio. She graciously agreed and we were so honored to have her join us! We’re grateful to Marcus, Ashley, and Kat for entrusting us to give it the right treatment. It has a very ‘swampy’ feel and is such a FUN song to perform live. We got to perform this song on the Grand Ole Opry with Ashley and that was such a special memory for us all! Hope you love it as much as we do.” – Gena Britt, banjo

“I am so happy with the way ‘Ode To The Ozarks’ turned out. It ended up so funky and dirty with the stellar musicianship of Seth Taylor, Tristan Scroggins, and Tony Creasman added to the Sadie girls. We are so honored that Ashley McBryde agreed to sing on this one with us. The icing on the cake!” – Deanie Richardson, fiddle


John Leventhal, “That’s All I Know About Arkansas” (featuring Rosanne Cash)

Artist: John Leventhal
Hometown: New York, New York
Song: “That’s All I Know About Arkansas” (featuring Rosanne Cash)
Album: Rumble Strip
Release Date: January 26, 2024
Label: RumbleStrip Records

In Their Words: “Rosanne had these lyrics. I wasn’t sure what they were actually about, but I loved them and they seemed to fit with a weird West African-bluegrass riff I had. There are two distinct guitar solos, each a tip of the hat to two musicians to whom I owe a debt: Ry Cooder and Clarence White.” – John Leventhal


Grackles, “Top Of The World” (featuring Kat Edmonson)

Artist: Grackles
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Top Of The World” featuring Kat Edmonson
Album: Grackles
Release Date: February 24, 2024 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Top Of The World’ was a beautiful chord structure Jason [Mozersky] had, that we all sat and strummed together on acoustic guitars live in the studio with upright bass and brushes on the drums. It instantly felt so warm and welcoming. I knew I wanted to sing it way lower than normal, so got Kat Edmonson to sing the melody with me. Sort of a Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra vibe. Lyrically, it’s pretty straight forward. It’s such a short, honest piece, I really tried hard not to let the words get in the way. I’m happily married and with a beautiful daughter and find my own life to be pretty damn great. Meanwhile the world around me crumbles. We bounce from one shit storm to the next, and try desperately to keep it together.” – Noah Lit


Liam Purcell & Cane Mill Road, “Homesick For Virginia”

Artist: Liam Purcell & Cane Mill Road
Hometown: Deep Gap, North Carolina
Song: “Homesick For Virginia”
Album: Yellow Line
Release Date: January 26, 2024
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words:“This song (penned by Colton Kerchner) is a story of misadventure and longing for home. Though the song is straightforward and wrapped in a 3/4 bluegrass power waltz, I felt like a lot of folks could relate to the message behind it. Being young, 20-something musicians out there on the road, home is always on our minds along with our friends and family, who we frequently miss. This is one of the more traditional tunes on the album, and I thought the guys really knocked it out of the park with the feel of that old Stanley-inspired sound.” – Liam Purcell


Unspoken Tradition, “Weary Town”

Artist: Unspoken Tradition
Hometown: Cherryville, North Carolina
Song: “Weary Town”
Release Date: January 26, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “Our hometown was a great place to grow up. It thrived for decades because of a trucking company founded by some of its citizens. Many locals found work there; it was almost analogous to a mining town. That trucking company was bought by a larger corporation that ultimately closed the terminal, and the town became a shell of its former self in a matter of a few years. It hurts in a way only bittersweet nostalgia can, to know that the town where I made so many memories exists in name only. When John Cloyd Miller sent us this one, it just ripped at my heart, because it makes the struggle and loss of a fading town so real. ‘What’s it gonna take for us to hold on?’ Iris Dement couldn’t have written a better love letter to a fading town!” – Audie McGinnis


Israel Nash, “Lost In America” (Rootsy Summer Sessions)

Last summer, in picturesque Falkenberg, Sweden, Rootsy Music held Summer Fest ’23, a gathering of twenty-some Americana, country, folk, and roots bands – many imported all the way from the United States. BGS video collaborators and contributors I Know We Should were there; they curated, directed, and shot a series of gorgeous live performances in and around the festival and scenic Falkenberg.

The first in the series features Israel Nash – a Rootsy artist, as well as a frequenter of Rootsy stages and festivals – performing an original song, “Lost in America.”

Read more here.


Moonsville Collective, “Helen Highway”

Artist: Moonsville Collective
Hometown: Whittier, California
Song: “Helen Highway”
Album: A Hundred Highways

In Their Words: “Friendships are often forged on some highway to nowhere. We left Pappy & Harriet’s, said goodbye to our wives, and drove across the country chasing the rookie leagues…” – Corey Adams

More here.


Mary Bragg, “Only So Much You Can Do”

Artist: Mary Bragg
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Only So Much You Can Do”
Release Date: January 23, 2024

In Their Words: ‘Only So Much You Can Do’ is about chasing joy in the company of another person. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about that New York Times article about the secret to happiness – and how relationships are the key to it. We are pack people; we need each other; we need other human beings around us in order to be our best, happiest selves. Friends plus community plus honesty equals joy…” – Mary Bragg

Read the full Out Now interview here.


Photo Credit: Sister Sadie by Eric Ahlgrim; John Leventhal by Wes Bender.

WATCH: Colby T. Helms, “Mountain Brandy”

Artist: Colby T. Helms
Hometown: Boones Mill, Virginia
Song: “Mountain Brandy”
Album: Tales of Misfortune
Release Date: January 19, 2024
Label: Photo Finish Records

In Their Words: “I am delighted my original song ‘Mountain Brandy’ is being featured on BGS. This song has been a local fan favorite for years. I wrote the song when I was 16 as a response to seeing my way of life disappearing around me. As a Franklin County, Virginia native, moonshine history and culture have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Over the years, family and friends have passed on, leaving behind a legacy and culture that I plan to keep alive. I wrote this song in honor of the culture, tradition, and landscape that has inspired me to pursue my passions. I hope that the fans of BGS identify with this tune and cherish it the way I have.” – Colby T. Helms

Track Credits: Written by Colby T. Helms.
Produced by Billy Hurt.
Mixed by Jason Richmond.
Mastered by Kim Rosen.


Photo Credit: Guadalupe Bustos
Video Credit: Video Director – Mike Mazza
Director of Photography – Christian Kline
Video Producer – Mike Mazza
Editor – Mike Mazza

Town Mountain Tap Into the Spirit of Levon Helm for New EP

Many things contribute to the most memorable recording projects, but according to genre-hopping bluegrass band Town Mountain, there’s nothing quite like working on hallowed ground.

For their new six-song EP, Dance Me Down Easy: The Woodstock Sessions (out January 18), the band had an unexpected chance to record at the upstate New York home/jam space/studio of roots music legend Levon Helm – and they wisely jumped at the chance. Produced by Justin Francis, the equally unexpected set finds Town Mountain tapping the spirit that made Helm and The Band so inspiring, leading to a uniquely funky addition to their catalog.

Built around deep-pocketed, deep-cut covers of tracks by Helm, The Kinks, J.J. Cale, Dire Straits, and The Rolling Stones, Dance Me Down Easy is filled with homespun soul and helps connect the dots between normally separate musical worlds. And as mandolin playing primary songwriter Phil Barker says, it wouldn’t be the same without Helm’s spiritual presence.

“It’ll be tough to top as far as a studio vibe, that’s always a big thing for us is the space we’re recording in,” Barker says. “It’s got to be an inspirational thing, and this place had inspiration for days.”

Speaking with BGS from the band’s hometown of Asheville, North Carolina, Barker did his best to describe a spur-of-the-moment, three-day musical getaway that turned into a bucket-list experience, and gave an already-adventurous band new license to rock.

This seems like the type of project where y’all got to let off some steam and have a little fun. Was it time for a change of pace?

Phil Barker: Well, our label New West was talking to us about recording some cover tunes [to] tie it over to our next record… and we had a show booked at Levon’s Barn, which was our first time playing there. From the other people we’d talked to, we knew this was going to be nothing but vibe and our routing worked out where we had a couple days at the end of the tour. So it was like, “Why don’t we just go back to the barn and hang out there for a few days?” …It was the perfect space to do this. No high pressure situation. It’s just like, “Let’s cut loose and have fun on songs that we enjoy.”

For people who might not know, what does Levon Helm’s barn represent in roots music?

For me, it’s kind of like one of the epicenters of the whole Americana genre. He had such a great way of bridging rock and roll with funk and country and traditional American music. And him as a musician in the bands that he was in, he was such a huge influence on everybody. This place was his spiritual center, where he would come and all the parties he would have there. All the creativity that happened in this space has just kind of generated this buzz within itself, and the word just spreads. Everybody we’d talked to was like, “Oh man, you’re going to love it there.” And we’ve told everybody since then like, “You got to go, man. You got to go there.” So any fan of music and traditional American music in particular, it’s a one of a kind of experience and we’ve always had it on our bucket list to go play. I’m so glad we got to do some recording there as well.

I knew there were jams held there, but I didn’t realize it was a full recording studio as well.

We talked to a lot of folks up there and the story goes that Levon decided he wanted to bring the party to him, he wanted to bring it to his space. So he created this barn literally on the back of his house. If you go through the back wall of the barn performance area, it’s his kitchen. So it’s literally his house and this beautiful property with a nice lake and all these woods. I mean, if you create a space like that and people are already playing music in there, they’re going to want to record. So there’s no fancy infrastructure for recording – it’s just a barn and there’s a couple baffles you can roll around, not isolation booths or anything – but it’s meant for a community kind of performance.

Take me through the first moment of walking in there. What did it feel like?

It’s like being in a church. Everybody just started walking around seeing all the spaces, and you go downstairs and there’s just endless Levon memorabilia on the walls. All these amazing pictures, all these random artifacts you’ll see nowhere else, and you can just feel all the creative energy that has happened in this space and it’s really kind of like buzzing. It was a really moving experience, honestly.

You’ve said that Levon had things figured out, musically? What do you mean by that?

Man, he just knew where the pocket was supposed to be. …It’s like he knew how to connect with the soul of any kind of music, and how it would connect with people.

Is that why you picked the songs you did? They represent a pretty wide swath of rock and roll.

It’s always a challenge to come up with cover tunes and we went through a bunch of ‘em. If it was meant for your band, I feel like you’ll know in the first couple of times you sit down together and play it. …We were open to every genre. Any suggestion was something we would try out if somebody was felt passionately about it. It just so happened that the ones that were working best with us in this particular situation, were more from the rock genre.

Town Mountain as a band has always had a bunch of that influence anyways, right?

Oh, absolutely. We had a Jay Farrar tune on the first record, so it’s always been on something we’ve embraced and not been afraid of.

“Dance Me Down Easy” ended up being the title song – one of Levon’s, but not The Band’s. Why did you pick that and not “Cripple Creek” or “The Weight” or something?

We wanted to pay a little homage to the stuff Levon did outside of The Band. That one’s from one of his killer solo records and something maybe people haven’t done as much. And honestly, it’s just fun to play. It’s like a funky dance tune that we don’t really do. We wanted to highlight that Levon was so much more than The Band, both as a musician and a person. So it was a natural fit.

The Kinks’ track “Strangers” really stood out, too. How did that get in the mix?

That was one of my picks. That song, I’ve just listened to it for years and I’ve always gravitated towards it. I’ll go through these phases where it’ll be on my Spotify mix and I’ll repeat it for literally 10 or 15 times in a row. I can just listen to that song forever because it really resonates with me. I love the writing and I love the feel, it’s really unique and I wanted to give it a little more country-rock vibe.

Did any of them surprise you with how they turned out?

Probably “So Far Away.” When we originally thought about that tune, it’s just like Dire Straits is so iconic and they have this laid-back vibe. It’s such a perfect fit for that tune. But at the same time, the lyrics are so country and we thought it would definitely fit with a pedal steel behind it. We kind of gave it a little bit of a Cajun swing feel.

Is this experience going to stay with you guys? Is the vibe something you’re able to take with you on the road?

That’s a great question. Hopefully we’ll incorporate it into more of the rest of our material, and find a way to tap into that. It’s a very space driven thing, so hopefully we can keep that in mind and let it guide our way in the future.


Photo Credit: David Simchok