Meet the Lineup of This Year’s Edition of Fort Worth’s FWAAMFest

The fourth annual edition of the Fort Worth African American Roots Music Festival (AKA FWAAMFest) will take place this weekend, on Saturday, March 16, at Southside Preservation Hall in Fort Worth, Texas. BGS has been proud to support and sponsor this quickly up-and-coming event over the past few years and 2024’s edition of the all-day festival will be the biggest FWAAMFest yet.

The festival has a mission of centering the vital and transformative contributions of Black and African-American folks to American roots music. Though their purview at first glance may seem “niche,” this is a concept that is as broad and expansive as it is pointed and specific. Festival organizer, Decolonizing the Music Room founding director Brandi Waller-Pace – a regular contributor to and collaborator of BGS – goes out of her way each year to demonstrate Black music, Black artists, and Black stories are not monoliths. Each year’s lineup is carefully curated to show FWAAMFest audience members the depth and breadth of Black musical traditions, not only in Fort Worth but around the country.

Tickets for the event are competitively priced ($50 general admission, $30 for students, with discounts for educators and children) and are truly an excellent value. Where else under one roof can you enjoy workshops, partake in Oakland Public Conservatory of Music’s Black Banjo & Fiddle Fellowship, dine on excellent barbeque and soul food, and hear sets from Jerron Paxton, Lizzie No, Crys Matthews, Joy Clark, Jontavious Willis, Corey Harris, Piedmont Bluz Acoustic Duo, Spice Cake Blues, Lilli Lewis, EJ Mathews, Stephanie Anne Johnson, Patrice Strahan, and Darcy Ford-James?

Below, take some time to familiarize yourself with this year’s FWAAMFest lineup while you make your plans to join Fort Worth at Southside Preservation hall this Saturday for an incomparable day filled with music, history, fellowship, and community building.

Jerron Paxton

Well known to BGS, Jerron Paxton – who you may know as “Blind Boy” Paxton – is a blues, old-time, and ragtime musician adept on many instruments, from piano to banjo to harmonica and beyond. Paxton was on BGS’s Shout & Shine Online lineup in 2020, a virtual showcase also curated by Brandi Waller-Pace. We’ve spoken to Paxton a few times about his incredible, timeless sound – and how he doesn’t view his music as coming from the past, but being rooted in the present. With his material and storytelling, he demonstrates how all of these American roots genres are so closely intertwined.

Lizzie No

Lizzie No’s new album, Halfsies, is certainly one of the best releases of the year. An Americana and country singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, No has a perspective that’s effortlessly modern while steeped in country traditions of the ’80s, ’90s, and 2000s. There’s introspective indie touches, pop infusions, and an end result that’s truly singular. Her music has plenty to sink your teeth into, and we go back to it time and time again.

Check out a recent GOOD COUNTRY feature about feminine country that highlights No and Halfsies and take some time to discover why our co-founder, Ed Helms, highly recommends her music via Ed’s Picks. Oh, and did we mention No co-hosts a BGS podcast, Basic Folk, too? An entire multi-hyphenate, right here!

Corey Harris

Corey Harris is a blues musician who has busked the streets of New Orleans, lived in Cameroon and West Africa, collaborated with Taj Mahal, and garnered millions of streams. His is an old-fashioned sound, but without essentialism or facing backwards. The lead single and title track from his upcoming album, Chicken Man, is out now – watch for the full record later this month. Based in Charlottesville, Virginia, don’t miss your opportunity to see this world-traveling blues picker and singer in Fort Worth.

Piedmont Bluz Acoustic Duo

Valerie and Benedict Turner are Piedmont Bluz Acoustic Duo, inductees of the New York Blues Hall of Fame. They’re committed to bringing “awareness to these unique aspects of African-American culture,” especially Piedmont style fingerpicking, washboard, and what they (rightly) call “country blues.” They’ve traveled all around the world playing Piedmont blues and they’re especially adept at preserving songs and sounds from artists like Mississippi John Hurt, Etta Baker, and Libba Cotten while showing how important their music is in modern contexts – in the present moment.

Crys Matthews

Singer-songwriter-picker Crys Matthews is another FWAAMFest 2024 artist that’s a well known name to BGS readers. An activist in songwriter form, Matthews writes pointed, sharp, and compassionate protest music that’s never saccharine or blinders-on, a rare feat in folk music. She also has a guitar playing style all her own – playing left handed, with the guitar upside down, she also reminds of musicians like Elizabeth Cotten. But still, what listeners take away from her joyful and encouraging sets, filled to bursting with solidarity, is an understanding that what Matthews does with her music is an art form all her own. Check out a BGS fan favorite from 2023, Matthews’ collaboration with Heather Mae and Melody Walker on a rousing community-minded number, “Room.”

Jontavious Willis

Grammy nominee Jontavious Willis was born and raised in rural Georgia and his childhood was filled with gospel music and connections to deep cultural traditions. As a teenager, he discovered Muddy Waters and the blues; it wasn’t long ’til he was sharing stages with Taj Mahal, Keb’ Mo’, and so many of his heroes and forebears. (Mahal called him “Wonderboy,” a certainly fitting and worthy title!) Willis makes music with a huge scope and limitless lifespan, but in that same DIY, hard-scrabble, down to earth way so highly valued in the blues. In 2018, he won the Blues Foundation’s International Blues Challenge Award for Best Self-Produced CD, and his 2019 follow up, Spectacular Class, garnered his Grammy nomination and millions of streams on digital platforms.

Joy Clark

Guitarist Joy Clark is rapidly on the rise – and deservedly so! She tours and performs with the Black Opry Revue, with Allison Russell’s Rainbow Coalition, and as an incredibly accomplished solo picker-singer-songwriter. Just last month, she wowed the Folk Alliance International audience at the International Folk Music Awards with her tribute to Tracy Chapman, showing the intuitive and intentional connections between Clark and queer, Black guitarists, musicians, and songwriters who came before her. The most remarkable thing about Clark’s music, though, is not that it reminds of other musicians and artists – even when it does. Instead, it’s impossible to deny that Clark has a voice on the guitar that is all her own and she’s on a steady march to bring that voice to the world. Thank goodness!

Spice Cake Blues

FWAAMFest has it all, from internationally known artists to insider favorites to gem-like discoveries, like duo Spice Cake Blues. A new introduction to BGS and our readers, Spice Cake features Miles Spicer and Jael Patterson and they are based out of Maryland. Spicer is a co-founder of the Archie Edwards Blues Heritage Foundation and an accomplished Piedmont (and multi-style) guitar picker. Jael, who also goes by Yaya, is a powerful and soulful singer. Spicer also performs with Jackie Merritt and Resa Gibbs in the M.S.G. Acoustic Blues Trio. (M.S.G. = Merritt, Spicer, Gibbs.)

Lilli Lewis

You may know her as “Folk Rock Diva,” Lilli Lewis is a powerhouse vocalist, pianist, songwriter, former record label runner, and forever community builder. Her shows are entrancing, like a combination of Wednesday-night church and a New Orleans Saturday night. Lewis is prolific and critically-acclaimed, and something of a genre and context shapeshifter, unifying the many sounds and styles she inhabits with her heartfelt stories and encouraging words of insight. Her latest album, All is Forgiven, was released in December 2023. Don’t miss her cover of Radiohead’s “Creep,” though, too – there’s a reason it’s so often requested at her concerts!

EJ Mathews

EJ Mathews was born and raised in Atlanta… Texas. A small town near the Arkansas border, Mathews grew up listening to the music of his grandpa – an even mix of country and blues. As such, his sound infuses as much modern blues as country, southern rock, and gospel, with infinite feel and groove. His 2020 single, “Smokin’ & Drankin'” shows so many of the styles he effortlessly combines. Now living in Dallas, Mathews will make the relatively short hike over to Fort Worth for FWAAMFest to bring his unique, melting-pot sound to Southside Preservation Hall.

Stephanie Anne Johnson

Stephanie Anne Johnson is a singer-songwriter and radio host based in the Pacific Northwest. Born and raised in Tacoma, they were already becoming a common sight in folk and Americana circles when they seemingly burst onto the national scene appearing on season five of NBC’s The Voice. Johnson is another FWAAMFest artist who was featured on the Shout & Shine Online lineup in 2020 curated by Waller-Pace. Criminally underrated in national folk, Americana, and indie circles, Johnson creates powerful music that brings love, mental health, togetherness, and redemption all under a compassionate lens – and with a remarkably grounded sensibility. Whether solo or with their band, the HiDogs, Stephanie Anne Johnson is an entrancing musician and songwriter. Don’t miss their 2023 album, Jewels.

You can see all these artists and so much more this weekend at FWAAMFest in Fort Worth! Get your tickets now.


Photos courtesy of FWAAMFest. L to R: Crys Matthews; Jerron Paxton; Lizzie No. 

Missy Raines & Allegheny’s ‘Highlander’ is Effortlessly Bluegrass

Missy Raines is one of the winningest musicians in the 30+ year history of the International Bluegrass Music Association’s annual awards. She’s a 10-time recipient of the Bass Player of the Year trophy and has taken home a couple of Collaborative Recording of the Year and Instrumental Recording of the Year awards, too. She’s been an omnipresent creative in bluegrass, in Nashville, and in American roots music as a whole for the majority of her life. Even so, many are heralding her new album, Highlander, made with her new band, Allegheny, as a “return to bluegrass.” The thing is, Raines never left.

It’s true that she spent more than a handful of years touring with an experimental, new acoustic-inflected string band, The New Hip, intentionally devoting more than a decade to highlighting her songwriting, her role as front person, and her smoky, patina-ed alto. Throughout that time, no matter how far afield the music may have explored beyond the stone walls and steel bars of bluegrass, Raines always had both feet firmly planted in the genre. While fronting and touring the New Hip, she remained a mainstay at bluegrass and acoustic camps across the country, founded and performed with several bluegrass and old-time supergroups, and “moonlit” as a bassist-for-hire for a laundry list of notable bluegrass, country, and Nashville stars.

So, however exciting it may be – and, it is truly, very exciting – that Raines and Allegheny have intentionally guided her sound back to traditional, straight ahead, mash-tastic bluegrass for her new album, Highlander, it’s important to remind Raines’ audience, the new initiates and diehards alike, that whatever music may emanate from the strings of her upright bass or from her tender and expressive voice, she has always been and will always be bluegrass. And effortlessly so. Highlander isn’t so much a return to the genre as it is a reminder that Missy Raines’ goal in music, first and foremost, is to make great bluegrass music for great bluegrass folks – her kind of folks.

This is your first album with the new band and I wanted to talk about how your creative process and how your collaboration process looks nowadays. I sense a lot of changes in how you’ve approached making music as an ensemble, but I wonder how it has felt to you, on the inside of the sonic and lineup shift from the last album to this new lineup, with Missy Raines & Allegheny?

Missy Raines: The collaboration process we have within this band, Allegheny, and for this album is the collaboration process that I’ve always dreamed of and wanted to have in a band setting. You know, I wanted to have my own band for years and years and then, after I waited a really long time, when I finally did do it in like 2009, I had in my mind that it would be like this, that it would be this collaborative thing and I’d have people who were invested. The short story is that I have that now, and that’s the beauty of it.

In the past, I did have elements of that, for sure. There were definitely folks who came into the different configurations that I had who were invested and collaborative. [That] was definitely there, but I will say, to have a moment in time when you have actually like five people sitting in the room and they’re all equally invested – that is pretty magical.

So yeah, the process for this record was very different than for Royal Traveller, because on Royal Traveller I didn’t really have a band when I started that recording. I was sort of ending the New Hip and I knew that that record wasn’t going to have the sound that the New Hip had, it was going to be very mixed, in terms of styles. There were all these different guests on every single song and there was no one solid backing band, because I actually wasn’t touring at the time. All of the main decisions and stuff were basically made by me and [producer] Alison Brown.

I think part of why this album feels so strongly like a band album is not just because of the Missy Raines & Allegheny rebrand, but also because you’ve been playing with this lineup – Ben Garnett, Eli Gilbert, Ellie Hakanson, and Tristan Scroggins – now for several years. This project feels like it was made by a band. And I think part of that feeling comes from you having worked together for as long as you did before you made the album.

I think it does. I don’t know if it also has anything to do with the fact that me, just by default– yes I’m the leader, but I’m also a bass player and my tendency and my way of thinking about any band is I come into it as a support player, because that’s what I’ve done all my life. This came up the other day online, because we’re getting lots of really great reviews from the record. Like one reviewer called my “backing” band “magnificent.” They are magnificent, but I don’t think of them as a backing band. I told them that and of course, Tristan said, “Well, that’s what we are.” And I was like, “No!” I still don’t think of [the band] that way. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m maybe still a little uncomfortable being out front, or it’s a combination of things.

It’s also just been this bass player mentality that – not that bass players can’t be out front, it’s just like, “No, we’re making this stuff together. We’re making this together.” And so I don’t see it as me standing up there doing something and they’re backing me up. I feel that if I’m not playing with them and they’re not playing with me, then we have nothing.

What was the process like as you sat down with this sequence of songs and were imagining who you wanted to have guest on the album? How did you navigate that with your producer, Alison Brown? This is a stout lineup of special guests appearing with you and Allegheny.

The only thing I knew in the very beginning, before I even talked to Alison about making the record, was that I wanted to do “These Ole Blues” with Danny Paisley. [Laughs] That was already in my head. I had this vision, I heard Loretta Lynn’s version of it and then I also knew that I wanted to change it a bit to make it more bluegrass. And it came out exactly the way I was hoping. I wanted to sing it with Danny Paisley. That was an easy one. Well, all of them were easy, because when we sat down we just listened, thought about the song, and thought who would be the right singer. And, who would also represent what it was that I was trying to say with this record.

Like, Dudley Connell on “Ghost Of A Love.” Of course, he’s playing with the Seldom Scene these days – he’s just so good that he can do anything. And no one loves the Seldom Scene more than me, but what I was looking for was Johnson Mountain Boys Dudley. [The Seldom Scene] was one of the big inspirations to this band, but so were the Johnson Mountain Boys and nobody captures that better than Dudley.

And I did want to say something about Laurie Lewis, too.

I wanted to ask you about “I Would Be a Blackbird,” the track that features Laurie, so yes, please, let’s definitely get into that!

So, Nathan Bell, he’s a friend, a great songwriter, and he wrote “American Crow” [from 2013’s New Frontier]. He wrote “I Would Be a Blackbird.” He’s written several songs with bird themes, but this song, he actually sent to me literally years ago and I loved it, but I couldn’t make it happen before, because it just didn’t fit whatever I was doing at the time. But it found its way to this band and it felt right.

Then again, when we thought about who I should sing with it, I thought of Laurie Lewis and it was perfect. I also really wanted Laurie to be part of this record because she was so much a part of Royal Traveller, she wrote “Swept Away” and it was like the star of that album. Laurie said to me, “You need to record ‘Swept Away,’ you should do that! It would be a great song for you.” So that felt extra special, that she thought of me for that.

When I was just starting out to play, when I was a teenager and stuff, I didn’t really know much about her music, because at that time I was such an east coaster and she was such a west coaster. I didn’t really know much about what was going on out there. But then soon after that, when I started hearing more of her music, got to meet her, and heard Love Chooses You, that was one of the first moments that I had in my mind that made me go, “Oh, you know… I would like to do something like this on my own someday.”

And then she became a really dear friend! Anyway, it was just really important to have her on this record.

I wanted to ask you about “Who Needs A Mine?” Not only because of Kathy Mattea joining you on that track, but also because of your ties to West Virginia and the very ideas behind Highlander. When I first heard you play that song probably a year and a half ago now, I think my jaw hit the floor. It’s such a perfect song and it’s so clearly in this tradition of women songwriters from West Virginia, from Central Appalachia, and the Mid-Atlantic who use folk songs and folk lyrics as a vehicle to speak truth to power. For me, it’s the focal point of the record. I think it’s one of the best socially aware and politically aware bluegrass songs that’s ever been written, in my humble opinion.

Wow. Well, your humble opinion means a lot over here. So, thank you.

I definitely thought of Kathy immediately, because of the West Virginia part, but also because she has championed this drug crisis for a long time. Her own life has been affected by it, personally, with family members. She speaks openly about that and has done a lot of really great things. That resonated with me.

One of the really extra special things that happened the day that Alison brought us together in the studio, I walked in and [Kathy] was there and she looked at me and she said, “I really, really love this song.”

I felt the sincerity in her voice. Like she said, it is really, really meaningful and powerful. I was just overwhelmed with that. Then she also said, “And it’s really nice to hear another alto singer!” [Laughs] I thought, “Well, that’s cool that you would even put me in the same breath as you.” I’ve always been drawn to singers like her, with the range of her voice and stuff. It seemed like a very natural fit for the song.

And as for me wanting to write it, I’ve been thinking about this song for probably the last five, six years or maybe a little bit more. I tried to write this song on my own, right from the beginning, but I realized that I was just way too close to it and I needed to have some perspective. I still wanted to have a bit of control over it, because I knew what I wanted from it. But I realized I also needed somebody to give me some perspective. So, I thought of who I knew that I would like to write with and who would get it and come from that same place, and I very wisely chose Randy Barrett. He was absolutely perfect to help me write that.

Of course, you know I cited Hazel, because she’s such a hero and my ties to West Virginia will be forever. I honestly don’t ever see myself living back there ever again, but on the other hand, I will always cherish all the things precious from my early life there. This issue is just so incredibly important to me and the reasons it happened – that people can Google, as to why this is such a horrific and atrocious thing. And it wasn’t just by accident, [opioid marketing] was actually targeted.

I’m glad you bring up Hazel. I think she is such an important touch point for this song. And I also think of Jean Ritchie, but there’s also this current moment happening where songwriters and roots musicians from rural places are taking up similar issues in their music. I’m thinking of Dori Freeman’s “Soup Beans Milk and Bread,” of Willi Carlisle’s “When the Pills Wear Off.” I think that there’s this really important moment of songwriters telling stories about these regions that are critical and that are seeking justice and a better future, but are also approaching it from love.

There’s something really interesting about “Who Needs A Mine?” because it feels like there’s some sarcasm and sass in it, but I still sense that the song is very, very loving – even in the way that there’s bitterness and anger in it. Do you see that too?

I love that you bring that up, because I was just sitting here thinking that I grew up listening to Hazel and hearing her songs, mostly about poverty and about mining and black lung and all of the travesties that came with the mining industry. While I knew that was part of my state’s history, it really wasn’t part of my own story, because my family weren’t miners. They were farmers and they were railroad men, but they weren’t actually miners.

The part of West Virginia where I grew up had more strip mining than it did deep coal mining. And so there was some level of understanding for me, but at the same time, I was fascinated. When I was a teenager, I used to read all the stories about the mines and unionization – and Mother Jones. I was really into that. And again, one of the reasons that I loved Hazel is because she championed all of that so much. At the same time, it wasn’t my story. When I started becoming emotionally involved with what was happening in the world today, seeing the West Virginia that I knew and the devastation when I go back home to see my family. I hear the stories about the drug infestation and all that. I see the poverty and see the children and all those things. Then I started getting angry and started getting upset about it. I realized this is my story. This is my time. This is what’s happening now. We all thought that the mines were going to be the worst thing that ever happened to us, but we at least kind of lived through that.
And in many ways, we triumphed through that. But now, this is more powerful – a pill that makes you feel like nothing, a pill that takes you out of reality is way more powerful than anything else.

I love the joke going around regarding this lineup of your band being “Mashy Raines.” I think it’s hilarious.

[Laughs] Thank you.

I think it’s interesting, because it seems like people use that joke to note how trad this band sounds, because you’ve spent a lot of time dabbling on the fringes of bluegrass. So it’s notable that you’re making bluegrass straight down the middle with this lineup. I think part of why it works so well is because you’re using this really trad aesthetic with such emotionally intelligent songs.

That is exactly what I was trying to go for, to have this hopefully artistically and intellectually interesting subject matter on top of really traditional sounds and aesthetic. That’s the most fun in the world to do, and hopefully you get some messages across without folks even knowing it.

I understand why some people might think this is new for me or something, the mashing thing, but we, of course, know that it’s not. I’ve been doing this for a long time, but it’s just that a lot of the mashy stuff or the real traditional stuff I started out with. I was doing it back then, you know, when not everything that anyone ever did was recorded and put online. There’s so much of that in my history that only the people who were there will remember. When I finally did start to make records and stuff, either on my own or with other people, yeah, it tended to be a lot more explorative, for sure. I had already played a lifetime of traditional bluegrass before I even made my first album.

The New Hip was bluegrass, but I never tried to make it be bluegrass. I just knew that I was bluegrass and I was a bluegrass bass player and I was playing this other kind of music. The entire time, I was thinking of all of it as a bluegrass bass player. In my mind, I never left bluegrass, but I do understand how it was perceived that way by some.

When Highlander started coming out, I started seeing the stuff being written and they were using this “return to bluegrass” thing. I fought it a little bit, at first. But now I’m like, “It’s okay, because you’re right.” This is unique. This band and this sound, it is unique. In that regard, it is a definite return to something that I haven’t done for a long time – with a specific sound that we have now. It’s exactly what I was looking for, but because of the people involved, it’s better than I ever imagined it could be.


Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

Blackberry Smoke’s New Album Offers a Crunchy Continuation of String Band Traditions

With 23 years behind them, Blackberry Smoke are still one of the best examples of Southern rock in the modern era – but what does that even mean, right?

Led by singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter Charlie Starr, the band does indeed have roots pointing straight to hard-driving ‘70s icons like Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Allman Brothers Band, and more. That’s true, but they also pull inspirations from farther back. And to Starr, Southern rock, at its core, is a continuation of the Appalachian tradition: “String band music and storytelling.”

With their latest album, Be Right Here, some of that old-time tradition shines through the cracks of a warm, distorted wall of sound, with heartfelt song craft and acoustic-guitar melodies front and center. Meanwhile, the band continue to prove crunchy, doubled guitar solos, thundering drums, and anthemic vocals never go out of style.

BGS spoke with Starr before Be Right Here was released, to see what has changed (and what will always stay the same) for one of the most dynamic Southern rock bands in history – a history they know all too well.

I thought I’d kind of start just seeing how you’re feeling at this point. You’ve been burning up the road for over two decades now, which seems crazy to me. How do you feel about where you’ve have been, and where you are now?

Charlie Starr: I mean, I’m tired. [Laughs] No, I feel good. We all do. It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long. It’s surreal to think it’s been 23 years. I don’t feel like I’m old enough to say that I’ve been doing anything for 23 years other than breathing, but I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished. It feels good.

Blackberry Smoke is one of the best pieces of evidence that Southern rock is still alive and well. But I was just wondering, do you think there’s still more to say in that? Is the form still inspiring to you?

Totally. Just listen to any song from those amazing early Skynyrd records or Allman Brothers or Marshall Tucker Band records, Blackfoot – all those bands are so different, and it really was just geography that tied ‘em all together. They all had their own fingerprint. And I think that we do, too.

I was listening to Patty Loveless in an interview and she was talking about bluegrass – which I grew up playing and I dearly love also – and she was talking about how those first generation bluegrass bands, like Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys, Flatt & Scruggs, and the Stanley Brothers, they came from this rich musical heritage of the mountains where they grew up in Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina. And what they were drawing from was acoustic string band music and storytelling.

Well, now, fast forward all this time, and modern bluegrass musicians not only have that, but they also have Led Zeppelin and the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and all this. There’s so much more. So I kind of look at it in a similar fashion with “Southern rock” bands, because those guys were listening to not only what I just mentioned, with the hillbilly country music and string band music, but also the British invasion and then traditional country and the Beach Boys. As time moves along, there’s just more and more that gets poured into the soup. So to answer your question in a very long-winded way, I think that it can go on forever.

So you’re kind of the third wave of popular Southern music, taking all that was done before and adding in the new influence, too.

Yeah, if we were a tribute band that just dressed up like some old ‘70s band and played their songs, then it would suck. But since we have the freedom to explore our own musicality, it can never end.

The new album is called Be Right Here. What was the spark that got this one going?

In my case, it’ll usually be a little explosion of songs. I’ll know that album time is coming, and so I’ll get to work on writing a batch of songs. It doesn’t always come quickly but it usually seems to work out, which I’m happy to say, because it kind of falls on me – which I don’t complain about that at all. I dearly love to write songs and I’m glad that it’s my job. There are worse jobs to have. Writing songs for Blackberry Smoke is much easier than working in a body shop, which I did for years.

At this point, 23 years on, are you still writing about the same stuff?

Well, I guess stories can all be new, stories of love and loss and frustration and women and men and drinking – or not – whatever. But if you look at popular music as a whole, there are new subjects that enter our culture, like cell phones and the internet and Facebook. I don’t know if I’ve ever used the word Facebook in a song. I probably won’t. But no matter what comes along technology wise, time stays the same. It’s still moving at 60 seconds per minute, and that’s not going to ever change. And human beings behave really the same way.

That said, the internet’s changed everything really. Not entirely, but it’s added a new accent to everything we do. I think John Mellencamp said it best, he goes, “I’m not sure if we’re supposed to hear this many voices at all at once.” That complicates life, really. It might push me back into my hermit hole a little more. As a songwriter even, it pushes me to the old ways more, melodically and musically. I don’t think anything really new can be said. We’re just trying to find an interesting slant on the way we say it.

You teamed up with Grammy-winning producer Dave Cobb for the second time, and he’s famous for live recording and loving first takes. Does that work well for a band like you guys, who are very live-show oriented?

It does. And in this case, it’s very interesting. We went back to RCA Studio A again, and he said, “This time I’m going to put the drums and amps and you guys all in the big room, so we’re all going to be in a little cluster.” And I was like, “Really?” As soon as we started playing together, it was like, “Oh man, okay, this is working. We don’t necessarily need all the separation.”

Some producers would be like, “Hell no. There’s no way I’d ever make a record like that.” It can be too sloppy. But Dave was like, “Well, we’re capturing this one sound. Let’s capture it all in the room, like a ‘60s record or even a ‘50s record.” So that’s what we did.

Tell me a little bit about “Dig a Hole.” It was the first track written, the first track on the album and the first one released, with a theme of choosing your own path – for better or worse. Is that kind of what you have done as a band?

We have. It’s been our only choice, really, because nobody’s ever come around with a different idea. [Laughs] It’s funny, I put together a [track list] and sent it to Dave, and I had “Hammer at the Nail” first. And Dave goes, “Are you insane? ‘Dig a Hole’ is first. Why would you think that ‘Hammer at the Nail’ should be first?” I said, “Because it’s faster.” And he said, “I don’t give a shit about fast. ‘Dig a Hole’ is like you guys are winding up to kick somebody’s ass!”

Azalea” leans more into the folky aspect of what Blackberry Smoke does. It’s got that acoustic shimmer of a classic-rock ballad. Where does that come from for you?

Man, I just love that kind of acoustic music. Again, that kind of stuff was my upbringing, and I’ll never turn it loose. That song lyrically was about fatherhood, because here we are now, our children are all growing up. I’ve already seen one go to college, graduate, now get married, so it’s like, “Well you hold on tight, but you don’t want to smother ‘em.” They have their own path to forge, so all you can do is try to be there for ‘em.

I’ll leave you with the big picture. After 23 years, what you hope people take away from this particular record?

I just hope they dig it. I mean, I don’t know if I expect people to experience it in a different way than I do or not. I don’t know. But I do get a lot of enjoyment right now listening to it.


Photo Credit: Andy Sapp

LISTEN: The High Hawks, “This Is What Love Feels Like”

Artist: The High Hawks
Hometown: Boulder, Colorado and All Points Between, USA
Song: “This Is What Love Feels Like”
Album: Mother Nature’s Show
Release Date: February 16, 2024
Label: LoHi Records

In Their Words: “This song sits in a slightly different world than the rest of The High Hawks’ new record. It’s a step into the mind of a hopeless romantic at a show, waiting for the band to come on with his love by his side. Sometimes the world just seems to conspire to make everything just right. This is about one of those nights. The song came out of a co-write with Chris Gelbuda, Shawn Camp, and myself one Nashville summer afternoon. I’m glad it found a home with The High Hawks!” — Vince Herman

Track Credits: Written by Vince Herman, Shawn Camp, Chris Gelbuda

Vince Herman – lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Adam Greuel – background vocals, acoustic guitar
Tim Carbone – fiddle
Chad Staehly – piano, mellotron
Brian Adams – bass guitar
Will Trask – percussion


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

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.)




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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