MIXTAPE: Denison Witmer and the Meaning of “Home”

What does “home” mean?

Answering this question became one of the main themes in my lyrics over the last several years – especially on my new album, Anything At All. After touring consistently for the first 15-20 years of my music career, I finally bought a house in South Philadelphia. Ten years later, my family and I relocated to my hometown, Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Before moving back to Lancaster, most of the places I lived felt kind of like a coat rack. Sure, most of my belongings were there, but I knew I’d be traveling again soon – things that felt centering or “home-like” to me existed outside of the confines of a space.

My current life is a lot different than that time. Now I am a husband, a dad of two young kids, a carpenter, and a part of my local community. I spend a lot of time trying to build a comfortable and consistent home life for myself and my family. My idea of what a home means is changing yet again. I’ve compiled a few songs that encompass the various meanings of “home” to me. – Denison Witmer

“Homesick” – Kings of Convenience

I think this is one of the best opening tracks on any album. The way the two guitars immediately start walking down the scale is captivating. My favorite lyrics are the last few: “A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for/ Homesick because I no longer know where home is…” It makes me think about the many days I’ve spent in headphones traveling in trains or tour vans, leaning my head against the window and listening to music that made me feel at home.

“Rene And Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After The War” (Original Acoustic Demo) – Paul Simon

I put this song on almost every mix I make. This is Paul Simon at his finest – just him and a guitar. In this story we follow Rene and Georgette Magritte as they reflect on the differences between their time in New York City and their lives in Europe during WWII. Ordinary moments like opening dresser drawers or window-shopping trigger memories of home.

 “Just A Song Before I Go” – Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Starting with a crash cymbal and leading right into a fuzzy guitar riff, this song has an instant warm vibe. I’ve always loved the way Graham Nash leans into writing about his life as a musician/songwriter. There’s a risk that it might not be relatable to a wider audience, yet he always finds a way to make the feeling universal. The lyrics “When the shows were over/ We had to get back home/ When we opened up the door/ I had to be alone…” connect deeply with me.

There were a lot of times on tour that I felt like I was turning into a ghost – passing through towns and people with no real sense of deeper connection or longevity. No real sense of home. Sometimes weeks would pass with mostly small talk and I would lose sight of who I was. Finally getting home, dropping my bags, closing a door behind me, and spending a week alone in silence was just what I needed to recoup.

“In Tall Buildings” (Live) – Gillian Welch

A lovely song written about returning to and centering your life around the things that really matter to you. I love the lyrics “When I’m retired/ My life is my own/ I made all the payments/ It’s time to go home/ And wonder what happened/ Betwixt and between/ When I went to work in tall buildings.” It’s a beautiful reflection on the things that we leave behind either knowingly or unknowingly when we get swept up in the paths our lives take. Gillian Welch’s vocal delivery is always beautiful. The way she can take any song and filter it through her own style with honesty and sincerity is incredible.

“A House With” – Denison Witmer

Yes, adding one of my own songs here. It fits with the theme. Mid-COVID lockdown, my wife and I got really into two things: birding and plants. We did everything we could to get birds to visit our yard. We did everything we could to green the outside and inside of our house. This led to hanging bird feeders all over the place and planting everything from shrubs to trees to lots (and I mean lots) of indoor plants.

This song started as kind of a joke. I often walk around my house playing a small classical guitar and making up goofy songs to make my wife and kids laugh. This song started that way — I was watching the birds on our feeder and naming them as I saw them, then I went from room to room naming the plants we have in our window sills. I recorded an iPhone voice memo and forgot about it. I’m not sure what motivated me to share it with Sufjan (who produced my new album and this track), but I think it was because I knew he is a fan of concrete nouns and words that are interesting phonetically. He ended up choosing this from the batch of demos I presented to him. I am glad he did, because it’s one of my favorite songs on the album.

Sufjan didn’t like the original lyrics of the last verse… I remember him saying, “In the first two verses you are telling us what you are doing and how it fills your heart, but you never tell us why. You should try to answer that question for yourself.” I rewrote the ending and it was at that moment that things clicked into place for me.

“Take Me Home, Country Roads” – John Denver

You can’t really go wrong with the earnest nature of John Denver. I love the lilting quality of this song – lyrics about longing juxtaposed against the happy upbeat sound. It’s a love song to a place. I have a lot of respect for John Denver, because he was always unapologetically himself. He talked about how he wanted to not just entertain people, but also touch them. I think he understood the magic of music and connection. Listening to John Denver also makes me think about my dad because he was his favorite musician.


Photo Credit: Lindsay Elliott

Becca Stevens Strips It All Back on ‘Maple to Paper’

In her dynamic, restless career, Becca Stevens plans to never repeat herself, like the proverbial waterway that’s never the same river twice.

Since being noticed by New York Times jazz critic Nate Chinen in 2008 as a 24-year-old “best kept secret,” she’s collaborated with: David Crosby and his Lighthouse Band; jazz orchestra Snarky Puppy; the modernist ensemble Kneebody; pianist Brad Mehldau; harmony genius Jacob Collier; the neo-classical Attacca Quartet; and others. Her five solo studio albums, especially the mind-stretching and richly grooving Regina (2018) and Wonderbloom (2022), have mingled folk-grounded melodies and jazz-deep harmonies with pop dazzle. The common denominator has been her uncommon voice, which is conservatory-trained, but utterly unique and enthralling. She is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest overall musicians making song-based music today, a peer to 21st century savants St. Vincent and Madison Cunningham.

One frontier that remained for Stevens was, ironically, the most obvious for a singer-songwriter – the solo acoustic album. Her version of this venerable format finally arrived in late August with Maple to Paper, a 13-song collection that was shaped at every level by a series of landmark life events. After marrying Nathan Schram, violist in the Attacca Quartet, she gave birth to daughters in 2022 and 2024. Their family moved from New York to Princeton, New Jersey. Her mother died, as did her close collaborator and friend David Crosby.

Stevens alchemizes this season of change, love, and loss through songs that challenge conventional forms with rich and fearless lyrics that play at times like Emily Dickinson set to classical guitar. On the cover, she’s demurely naked behind a guitar. In the grooves, she’s as vulnerable as we’ve ever heard her. As she told me of her emotional multiverse of the past few years, “I felt uncomfortable about sharing it, but I also was like, well, if I’m going to do this, I might as well make it completely exposed.”

It’s easy to suppose that the changes of the past few years – moving, having children, losing your mom – made a solo acoustic record sound more appealing at both artistic and practical levels?

Becca Stevens: Absolutely, yeah. You’re spot on. Two things can be true. So the choice to do this album completely solo and from home both served the concept and integrity of the album. But it also was maybe the only way that I could have gotten it done during that time.

Just to put that into perspective, you know, there was the logistics of the grieving. The loss of my mom was super fresh, and I had a six-month-old who was part-time in daycare. And then towards the end of the recording and writing process, I was pregnant again. So there was the logistics of being a new mom, of having morning sickness, of being in a new place, of grieving my mom, and all of that was so much more possible to do from home. But I resisted it.

For a long time, I had the idea of recording the demos at home and then going into the studio. But I went back and forth a lot with Nic Hard, who mixed it with me. He also did Wonderbloom. And the deeper that we got into the material, the more crystal clear it was that the songs were best served if performed live – guitar and singing at the same time – and performed at home, where I was really in the character and in the feelings.

Did writing and making art feel like what you wanted to do under all those cross-cutting pressures and changes, or did you have to force yourself a bit through the work?

“Want” is maybe the wrong word. I felt like, at least for the grieving part, I had to do it because it was like I was going to explode if I didn’t do something. And it was a confusing loss – something that left me with a lot of questions. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been somebody who processes confusing emotions through writing songs or stories, or art in some way.

I felt like I needed to do it. But also, yes, there were times where I just absolutely did not want to and just wanted to lie on the floor. And I had to find a way to incorporate that as part of the process, so that I could forgive myself. I literally had a futon on the floor of my workspace, where I told that part of my brain, “You are invited to lay down there whenever you need to. You’re not at a studio. The clock’s not ticking. You’re not paying for this.” I called it my Womb Room. And I would put on salt lamps and put the lights down really low and lay down. And then some of the songs came from that space.

Some of these feel more like classical art songs than folk songs, in that they’re not shaped around a set number of measures or predictable beats. Did they feel a bit like that to you?

Yeah, the song “Payin’ to be Apart” comes to mind. It definitely felt that way; a little less folky, more like poetry that just happens to be on a wave of music. It’s interesting to hear you say that, because in the writing process – harmonically and in the accompaniment – I took a much simpler approach than what I have done before, on Regina or Wonderbloom, on everything really. Because I put so much intention and honesty and, like, blood, sweat, and tears into the lyric, I gave myself permission to let the waters that it was floating on be a little less turbulent artistically, a little less complex and a little more like I was trying to cradle them and deliver them in a way that takes care of them and makes it easier to metabolize – or something.

Was your mindset different, knowing there’s not going to be the grid of the drum beat? Can drums be a bit of a cage sometimes?

Yeah, they can be a cage. But they can also be like something that’s really cozy to lean on in the arrangement. Like, I can drop everything and have it just be drums and vocals for a verse and it feels really good. But for this album, I set a goal that the songs are meant to be performed as just me and the guitar, because that’s how they were recorded. That means that whatever break that I gave you in Wonderbloom by stripping down the arrangement and going to drums now needs to be created with whatever tools I have by myself, whether that’s narrative, or a right hand finger pattern, or fill in the blank.

This made me wonder how much you have performed solo acoustically in your career, given the emphasis on arrangement on a lot of your records.

Quite a bit, yeah. I have a lot of respect for my bandmates. And if there were ever gigs that we were offered where I felt like I couldn’t cover their fee and treat them well, I would just take it solo. I’ve done that a lot. I’ve done a lot of solo tours. A lot of my writing has started out solo, and I have solo versions – for example, “You Didn’t Know,” the song from Wonderbloom that was inspired from watching the documentary about R. Kelly. That song, I poured my heart out solo and then stripped the solo version back when I was in the studio turning it into the Wonderbloom version.

Solo feels like a home base to me, and it’s something that I think I’ve resisted, because maybe I felt like it wouldn’t be enough. There’s this narrative, especially in the booking world, that they don’t want to book you unless you have more than one or two people on stage, because it’s not enough to create the energy to get the focus of the audience. And maybe it’s not loud enough, you know? I also had that in mind. This might not be very marketable, but I’ve got to do my best to just serve these songs to the best of my ability. And it’s got to get done anyway, because this is how I’m processing this part of my life,

Meanwhile, your tempo of collaborative work never seems to let up. I have my personal favorites, but can you address some of your favorite partnerships here in the last few years?

We haven’t mentioned this yet as part of the story of this record, but knee-deep in the writing and recording stages of this album, we also lost David Crosby. I’d already gotten punched in the face and then I was like, kicked on the ground. Not that it’s about me. The whole world grieved that loss. As I mentioned, when I lost my mom, it was a very complicated grieving process. I took a lot of inspiration from listening to albums like Sufjan Stevens’s Carrie & Lowell, where it’s okay for grief to be ugly and complicated and to show that. But with Croz, it was so sad, because I loved him so much, and I loved being in his band, and I loved writing music with him. But the presence that he held in my life didn’t diminish. I couldn’t hug him, but there was this sort of heavenly presence when I was writing the songs for this album, where I could hear him and see him in my mind, kind of rooting me along.

And tell me about Michael League of Snarky Puppy and the universe that he inhabits with the GroundUP record label, which has been supportive of you all this time. It’s such a fascinating record company. I feel like they’ve got a lot to teach the music industry about curation and cultivation of a tribe, and I’d love for you to remark on how that model has served you.

I like the word tribe. I often think of it as family, but I think tribe is even stronger. I feel safe with that label in a way that I’ve never felt safe with labels before, especially major ones, where, if you’re not performing exactly the way that they want you to, you get kind of put on a shelf, and then your art doesn’t get heard because, because you’re not pleasing the corporation.

With GroundUP, I’ve always felt like whatever I’m getting into is what they want me to do. They’re like, “Your health and happiness and artistry come first and if that’s what you need to make right now, we’re behind it.” And I can’t tell you how liberating and comforting that is as an artist to know that the people that are helping you put your music out have your back. And we all love each other too. We all play together and love each other too.

And speaking of Sufjan Stevens, you got to be on Broadway in his Illinoise musical. What did that add to your world?

Yeah, it was a limited run on Broadway and I did half of the run. So I had Isla, my second daughter, on February 24 of this year. And then I got a call from Timo Andres, who did the orchestrations, saying, “I know you’re on maternity leave. This is crazy. I shouldn’t even be calling you, but I can’t not think of you for this role. Is there a world where you would ever audition for this?” I was like, “Yeah, I could audition and see what happens…” and didn’t expect to get it. I came in with my newborn baby. I handed her to my manager, did the audition, and they called me within a day and said they’d love for me to do it.

Initially I thought, “There’s no way.” I’m giving you all of this extra detail because a huge part of the experience for me was the chaos and the balance of the life that I was living at home for the first half of that day in Princeton – nursing my baby and being a new mama – and then handing her to my husband and jumping on the train for two hours, going into the city just in time to perform, and then coming back home and doing it all again and nursing through the night. It was this superhuman thing that initially I thought, “Oh, there’s no way this is going to work.”

The whole experience was like a dream state – being on stage and singing that music, which I’ve loved for so long. And also, having it not be about me was very refreshing. I’m not the band leader and I’m singing someone else’s music as a narrative that’s coming from the bodies of the dancers. We can lean on the coziness of the production, and just enjoy it.

I would say coming out of that helped me to be less self-absorbed. The headspace that I was in for Maple to Paper was very me, me, me, me, me, me. And then Illinoise was like, “No, it’s not about you. It’s about being in service to something greater than you.” Whether you’re writing a song about your feelings or singing somebody else’s, that’s always what it’s been.


Editor’s Note: Need more Becca Stevens? Check out our recent Basic Folk conversation with Stevens here.

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

MIXTAPE: A Soundtrack of Life for Another Glory’s Nathan Trueb

Growing up in a musical family, I was exposed to a lot of different sounds from an early age – a lot of them, not by choice. I had a dad who preferred country radio and led gospel music at our church. My mom played classical and Civil War songs on the piano daily while I played with my toys. Next were two older siblings using seniority to lord over the dials at every chance – they also both played classical piano.

As I got older and carved away at my own musical sensibilities, these dictates became accidental influences to the soundtrack of my life and shaped who I have become as a songwriter and musician. This playlist includes some early influences along with music that has turned me on for one reason or another, which I’ll do my best to explain. Thank you to everyone who has helped shape the soundtrack of my life so far, especially my family and mentors. – Nathan Trueb, Another Glory

“Surfer Girl” – The Beach Boys

Some of my earliest memories growing up involve the Beach Boys. I remember the Endless Summer cassette tape and its painted album cover distinctly. We would listen to it on road trips and I remember my dad and his friends playing guitars and singing these songs. My older brother got really into the Beach Boys and I remember he loved this song. Even though he told me he didn’t know why, but it made him sad. It also became my 2-year-old daughter’s favorite song and band.

“Why Not Me” – The Judds

As much as I didn’t want to like country music, it started to become harder to make excuses as to why just as soon as I started to play the guitar and take music more seriously. If you were to ask anyone in my grade school what music they liked, the only acceptable answer was, “Everything BUT country.” The more discerning my ear became I couldn’t deny the masterful playing and even, dare I say, “shredding” of the players on these then-contemporary records. The other thing that country brought to the table were some perfectly crafted, three-minute-and-twenty-nine second pop masterpieces like this one. Although I couldn’t show it outwardly to my family, I was rocking out on the inside.

“Black Cadillac” – Lightnin’ Hopkins

We used to go over to my uncle’s house from time to time when my mom was at work. On one visit, around the time when I had just started playing guitar, I found out my uncle played a left-handed acoustic guitar that I really admired. I also had no idea that he had been learning some blues and showed me a few licks and we jammed together. He had a few records laid out and this one leaped into my hands. He put it on and I couldn’t believe my ears. The voice, the guitar, the storytelling and humor. I did that thing where I didn’t let go of the record until my uncle suggested I take it home. I still play that same copy to this day.

“Going to California” – Led Zeppelin

I owe the most to my brother as a musical influence – I guess just influence in general. He was always there with the next record I needed to hear. It was a pipeline from his friends to him, him to me, and then me to my friends. I’ll never forget the day that he played me Led Zeppelin and it completely blew my mind. Growing up in a conservative household, I had never heard anything like it and everything changed after that. I became obsessed with Led Zeppelin like people get obsessed with Harry Potter or WWII. “Going to California” came to me around the time of first loves and I really got it. “Sell the Farm” off of the Another Glory record is a direct hat-tip to this song. I love the way it made me feel and how it still transports me to long phone calls in my attic room in the summer time.

“Michelle” – The Beatles

My first memorable crush was named Michelle. She was my sister’s friend and would visit our house often. We grew up on a farm and that meant that my brand of flirting was often hurtling cow pies at my sister’s friends. Somehow that first love was unrequited.

I remember a trip to the Puget Sound where my brother loaned me his Beatles 1962-1966 disc (the red one with the whole apple/cut apple on the compact disc), popping it in the Discman, putting the headphones on, and listening to that song over and over. I loved it, but it made me sad. Now I knew how my brother felt when he listened to “Surfer Girl.” I sing this song to my daughter and it’s still amazes me that they wrote it. Like, how? I’m sure there’s a story about it somewhere, but I don’t think I really want to know. My wife and I have been together since high school and the first time I visited her bedroom she had every single Beatles album in a dedicated, spinning CD tower.

“Naptown Blues” – Herb Ellis

My mom was driving me to school one day my freshman year and I had the local jazz radio station on, 89.1 KMHD. I think playing the guitar a lot when I was homeschooled for a couple years took me on a trajectory from Led Zeppelin to Steely Dan to trying to understand jazz by listening to the radio. This song came on as she dropped me off. I said, “I don’t know what this is, but I want to play like that.” Bless her heart, she must have written it down as the DJ read that title after the song ended (in their soft, publicly-funded morning voice), because I unwrapped this CD for my next birthday and I remember listening to it while I went to sleep until I had every part memorized.

“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” – Bob Dylan

Speaking of girlfriends, my first real girlfriend in high school had an older brother who was a Dylan fanatic. I remember looking through his 72-disc Case Logic CD case. I opened up the first page, Dylan. Second page, Dylan. The entire thing was filled with Bob Dylan. He asked me if I was a fan and I remember saying, “not yet.” For some reason I had a feeling I might be someday.

Well, I don’t remember how, but when I moved out of my folks’ place this song hit me like a freight train. Dylan’s influence is so obvious in any modern music, especially when you are a guy fingerpicking a guitar, but we have to give credit where it’s due. I’d like my old girlfriend’s brother to know that I finally crossed the Rubicon.

“My Funny Valentine” – Bill Evans & Jim Hall 

I’ve had a few guitar teachers in my life and had the pleasure of taking some lessons in college from Jerry Hahn. He had his own books and I think was a big fan of Jim Hall. He turned me on to this record and this style of walking bass with chords. He also taught me to keep a list of “must-have” or “must-find” records in my wallet for the record store. I still have a list to this day in my notes. He said this one should be on there. Years after taking from him, I found an original copy somewhere in California. This is one of my all-time favorite records.

“Run That Body Down” – Paul Simon

I got pretty into this record at some point and into Paul Simon’s writing in general. I used to have two enormous PA speakers that we used for band practice in my basement. Late at night I would sit between them and listen to music very loud. This song was on and the guitar solo caught me by surprise. I looked up the song to find out who played the solo. It was my old teacher, Jerry Hahn!

I ran into him at a jazz club not too long after and asked him about it. He recalled it perfectly and said he turned down the offer to come to the studio because he was “too busy.” They kept calling, so he went and remembered being frustrated. Take after take, Paul wasn’t getting what he wanted. Finally Jerry took the solo in a totally different direction, against his good sense, with the wah pedal and all. After the take Paul exclaimed, “That’s it!”

“One Mo’Gin” – D’Angelo

After listening to all of the Motown one can get their hands on, you start to wish there was more. Or, that it continued to evolve into modernity with class and style instead of flaming out, morphing into disco dances by designer drugs. Like when your parents started “raising the roof.” At some point you just have to put it down, like Old Yeller. Then decades later someone comes along who has filled themselves to the brim with that old tonic and others that had filled up on the same, and it comes spilling out in biblical proportions in a perfect statement. Voodoo is that album. D’Angelo is that prophet. I have listened to this record so much in my life that it’s hard to state exactly what influence it has had on me. “Fool For You” was a song written a long time ago and it was a direct attempt to do something in that vein.

“I Don’t Know” – Nick Hakim

As you get older it gets harder to get the same high from music that you did when stuff first really freaked you out – or maybe that’s just me. So, when you find that something or someone, it might become an instant obsession. Nick Hakim had that effect on me. I loved everything he was doing; it was so different, sonically, than most of the bedroom pop stuff or neo-soul. It felt like a modern psychedelic Voodoo, but also just heartbreakingly beautiful. His ability to mix his jazz-school-kid sensibilities with gospel and indie-rock set a high bar and still does.

“The Only Thing” – Sufjan Stevens

It seems that everyone has a favorite Sufjan. His prolific list of albums seem limitless in their scope and bending of genres. The only Sufjan for me is Carrie & Lowell. I don’t think there is an album that equals it in creating a soundtrack for sadness, grief, regret, love, life, and death – at least not that I have found. His lyrical imagery seems to be divinely inspired and it’s hard to pick one part of the song, so I’ll quote the first words:

The only thing that keeps me from driving this car
Half-light, jack knife into the canyon at night
Signs and wonders: Perseus aligned with the skull
Slain Medusa, Pegasus alight from us all

“The Magician” – Andy Shauf

This song came on the radio while I was driving in Portland over a bridge with a view of the river and the city behind it. (I often remember an exact time I heard a song with perfect clarity. Maybe everyone does? “Mo Money Mo Problems” I was passing the Chevron on Molalla Ave., Oregon City, circa 2001.)

After the 8-bar intro to this intriguing new single on the local indie radio station, I nearly crashed my car. I instantly remember being like, “OKAY!” and banging my head when the beat dropped. It’s a perfect song to me and a perfect recording that is perfectly produced. You can’t say that about every song you love.

“If I’m Unworthy” – Blake Mills

Every guitarist sooner or later was exposed to Blake Mills. A friend of mine turned me onto his first album early, before all the hype, and I quickly became a fan. His songs and voice weren’t typical and were totally unique to him. I had watched a lot of videos of him playing and he quickly became the best living guitarist that I was aware of.

His long-awaited sophomore album was finally announced. When he came to town to support the record he was booked in a small room, seated. His name was so unknown I couldn’t find anybody to go with me. I also had inside knowledge that his then girlfriend, Fiona Apple, was likely to make an appearance. So I stood silently in line to the sold-out night and kept my mouth shut.

During his set, I popped out to the bar to get a drink and bellied up to the bar. I let the woman to my left go ahead of me. It was Fiona Apple. She laughed when I nearly spit out my drink. “If I’m Unworthy,” in the moment it was released, became the new “guitar song” for guitar nerds. Every single guitarist has to learn it, as a rite of passage; like Stevie Ray Vaughan or “Sweet Home Alabama.” The song is a snapshot of the Blake Mills that revolutionized guitar once again and then quickly retired, confounding dad-rockers with little tube amps and glass slides adorned to their fingers. Will the real Blake Mills please stand up?

“Body” – Julia Jacklin

MLK & N Fremont, near the Chevron. That’s where I first heard this song. Maybe I only have autobiographical, photographic memories of songs if they involve a gas station, specifically Chevron. We were riding in a friend’s Subaru, which we always drove around in. A peace-sign necklace swinging from her rearview mirror, rain hitting the windshield, the music always blasting. I had never heard the song before and I was all-in from the downbeat. Such a heavy song and so personal.

Julia’s lyrics make you feel like it was you yourself on that Sydney tarmac. And the haunting question, “Do you still have that photograph?/ Would you use it to hurt me?” Like the photograph, the song is naked and circles around a singular progression, building tension until finally quietly cracking open for some light at the end.

“I guess it’s just my life, and it’s just my body…” which, on the first listen, could sound sarcastic, but on the repeat she sounds relieved or at least vindicated. And of course it is probably both. The progression gives hope that this chapter of her life, or ours, is closed. In my experience, that is what a lot of good songs do: close a chapter for the artist and the listener.

“Are You Looking Up” – Mk.Gee

Not a secret any more. Still mysterious, but not just the guitar-guy in the Dijon video. Still shy, but now he’s in the spotlight. The leap from his 2018 album to Two Star & the Dream Police might as well have been a tightrope walk over the Grand Canyon. I loved the old stuff, but when I saw the live video of “Are You Looking Up” with Mk.gee hanging out of a tour bus or train car – whatever it was – I nearly fell out of my chair. I had a hard time explaining why to some who just heard Doogie Howser synths.

His way of playing might not sound outwardly complex or groundbreaking, but in my opinion, it is. Everything about the homespun, demo-quality recordings reminds of me of how a Wu-Tang record sounds completely superior to anything else on MTV at the time, not due to its polish, but rather its grit. Mike’s voice has the perfect dichotomy of rasp and softness. He has a unique ability to sing almost indecipherable lyrics over such memorable melodies that the words could be an afterthought, not unlike Bon Iver.

I had the pleasure of meeting Mike when he came through Portland. He is shy and a lot of lyricists seem to guard their lyrics due to insecurity, but the lyrics are so good, too. I see Mk.gee as the new guitar gunslinger with his outlaw jacket as his cape. He’s single-handedly doing for guitar what The Mandalorian did for Star Wars.


Photo Credit: Ryder Medeles

Guitarist Jackie Venson on Her Instrumental Peer, Yasmin Williams

(Editor’s Note: For a special Artist of the Month feature and op-ed, acclaimed guitarist, composer, and improviser Jackie Venson considers the impact, musicality, and originality of her peer Yasmin Williams. Read more about Venson on BGS here. Explore more AOTM content on Williams here.)

As someone who gets pigeonholed as a blues guitarist, I’ve publicly reckoned with what I feel is an othering of blues as no longer really art, but instead what might be seen as a wax museum-ification of a formerly revolutionary genre. Too many established musicians and fans alike don’t want blues to evolve, but to instead be preserved in amber. Yet, its sibling folk music has not only never entirely fallen out of fashion, it has evolved and even prospered specifically because its brightest figures have refused to let tradition and academic codification stagnate the genre. Whether you’re talking about Bob Dylan going electric or Bon Iver collaborating with hip-hop superstars, folk musicians understand that cross pollination and new ideas are vital to growth. To my ears, Yasmin Williams is a proud continuation of that tradition of evolving folk.

To listen to the music of Yasmin Williams is to listen to the thrill of musical mutation in action, to hear and feel playing that is in constant communication, not only with itself, but with myriad styles and personalities. Given how adventurous and playful Williams’ music is, it’s not too surprising that her gateway to music was in fact a video game, specifically Guitar Hero 2.

In a review of Williams’ breakout 2021 album Urban Driftwood for taste-making music site Pitchfork, writer Sam Sodomsky connected Williams’ percussive, tap-heavy fingerpicking style to the mechanics of that game, as well as folk guitar legend John Fahey. Rhythmic intensity and love for the thrill of performance are the unifying elements of Williams’ otherwise impossible-to-pin-down style; this isn’t folk as a study or stuffy examination of tradition, it’s folk as expression at its most pure, music for entertainment, communication, and friendly competition all at once.

Williams’ latest batch of singles from her just-released album, Acadia, impeccably illustrates this eclectic and freewheeling approach to folk. “Hummingbird” is a dazzling collaboration with banjo player Allison de Groot and fiddle phenom Tatiana Hargreaves that recalls Richard Thompson’s lush, melodic picking but marries it to the breakneck intensity of traditional bluegrass.

On the other end of the folk spectrum, “Virga” finds Williams teaming up with Darlingside for a gorgeous and stately slice of indie folk that would fit right in with the likes of Sufjan Stevens and Bibio. Somewhere in the middle is “Dawning,” a bluesy folk number that features Williams dueting on guitar with Aoife O’Donovan of Crooked Still fame, who also provides enchanting, wordless vocals that give the song an almost ambient quality, as if Sigur Rós moved to Appalachia.

Even on songs that are more traditional, Williams playfully inserts pop and experimental elements. Take “Sunshowers,” which opens Urban Driftwood with beautiful fingerpicking that in turn gives way to a simple yet addictive bass-like hook that wouldn’t be out of place on a Post Malone single. Or, consider the album’s title track, which features djembe playing by Amadou Kouaye and adds an almost IDM (Intelligent Dance Music) quality to the song. Or, “Nova to Ba,” a collaboration with Argentine musician Dobrotto that effortlessly transitions from cinematic grandeur to relaxing ambient textures.

As a musician, I can’t help but be entranced by the marvelous skill and tone on display in Williams’ music. But more importantly, as a listener, I’m struck by the immediacy and tunefulness of the songs. Like Williams’ early inspiration, Guitar Hero 2, these songs are hard to put down once you start, and the difficulty never gets in the way of the fun.

“Juvenescence,” one of Williams’ most popular songs, is a handy representation of her skills – the impeccable picking, the daredevil runs that would impress even Eddie van Halen, the self-dueting in the finale. But it’s also immensely listenable and never a chore. Equally impressive is “Swift Breeze,” where Williams utilizes her guitar as an organic drum machine, getting a booming kick drum sound out of the body and rim shot-like hits out of other components, all while arpeggiating like she just got off a tour as the lead guitarist for a Midwest emo outfit.

It might seem odd to bring up emo in a feature on a folk musician, but there is a considerable amount of drama and theatricality in Williams’ music, even though most of it is instrumental. “Adrift,” in particular, has just as many emotional pivots and anthemic hooks as a Panic! At The Disco song. Here, the guitar comes in first, then the strings, but the swaggering hooks and melancholic valleys are there. It’s not hard to reimagine “Restless Heart,” from Williams’ debut album, Unwind, as an emo anthem either; it has a killer riff to kick things off followed by a pick slide and some heavy ringing chords. Even the title sounds like something the Get Up Kids would have used. If Dashboard Confessional was ever looking for their own Tim Reynolds to do an acoustic tour with, all I’m saying is Williams’ name should be high up on the list.

Every genre should be so fortunate as to have an artist like Williams, a performer who challenges herself without losing sight of what makes music a pleasure to listen to. A musician who commits to pushing the boundaries of the genre they call home, rather than maintaining a status quo. No genre should be inflexible and we need more musicians like Williams – period – who push themselves musically just as much as they do technically.

(Editor’s Note: Continue your Yasmin Williams Artist of the Month exploration here.)


Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

BGS 5+5: Lyle de Vitry

Artist: Lyle de Vitry
Hometown: Originally Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but I now live in Asheville, North Carolina.
Latest Album: Door Within A Dream
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): I have a lot of nicknames in my family. Pan, Chi, Fluffy Bundun, Lymees, Lyman are a few classics.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Nick Drake has been a long time favorite and he’s certainly one of my biggest influences. When I was about 14 or 15, I remember diving deep into his records and being so completely blown away by his guitar playing. I had never heard anyone play like that, and it opened up a whole world for me. At that point I wasn’t writing my own music, but I learned some of Nick’s songs and began exploring his tunings, which, to me, were so wonderfully strange and emotionally evocative.

When I started writing my own songs I would often use some of these tunings, as well as some other open tunings I picked up along the way from other artists. Eventually, I began inventing some of my own tunings, which is something I’m not sure I would have been as likely to do had I not delved so deeply into Nick’s work. Playing a guitar in an unfamiliar tuning helps me to get into that childlike, playful state where I’m making discoveries and delighting in them. Like trying ice cream for the first time or leaping into your first icy cold river. In those moments, there is no time or space to feel self-conscious – for your full attention is fixated on this new joyful experience.

I tend to be drawn to artists who sing more softly. In addition to Nick Drake, some of my greatest influences and inspirations include Jose Gonzalez, Sufjan Stevens and, in more recent years, Adrianne Lenker. It’s funny though, I actually have a really big voice when I want to use it – and at one point was considering pursuing a professional career in opera. We’ll see, I might decide to open up my voice a bit more as the years go by and I continue to develop my style. It won’t be opera, but I’m just excited about experimenting with the way I sing, volume level, vibrato, tone, range, etc.

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

When writing a song, I try my best to write lyrics that could stand alone as a poem. If I’m feeling stuck, I try reading some of my favorite poetry. Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, and translations of the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke all come to mind.

I’ve always especially loved the work of Mary Oliver. She wrote a lot while walking through the woods and observing the world around her – always practicing looking with as much reverence as she could muster. I try to slow down and notice things like she did. It’s really a practice of awe and amazement – and often with regard to things that appear simple at first glance or that I might take for granted. Or that I just wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t waited a little longer and been more patient.

Along with poetry, visual art is another art form that plays a big part in my creative life as a songwriter. Sometimes when I’m experiencing a creative block, I’ll go into a period of just focusing on making really colorful and vibrant abstract visual art. It helps me get out of the self-judgment loop, and I find myself getting back to that kid that’s inside, playing with shapes and color just because it’s fun and not because I hope anyone will think it’s any good. And then I can take that mindset back with me when I return to my songs.

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

I remember singing my song, “To Be Adored,” for a close friend shortly after I had written it. When I looked up after finishing, he was smiling at me ear to ear and had tears streaming down his face. This same thing happened a few other times with other people – and I began to realize that I could really touch others with my music on a deep emotional level. I’ve always loved music with nostalgic and maybe even sad undertones, and so a lot of the music I make has this kind of feeling. The thing is, “sad” music always made me feel kind of… good? From the beginning, I think I knew I wanted to make sounds that could help people heal in some way, or at least serve as a form of comfort. When I started seeing the impact my music was having on people in real time, I knew I wanted to continue writing and sharing – with the hope that I too could be a healer and could help make the world a little more beautiful.

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

I would probably be a visual artist/art teacher. Making art has always been one of my favorite things to do – and, as I mentioned, it still sometimes plays a role in my creative practice at times. I’m often thinking about bigger paintings, murals, or other visual projects I want to be making, but usually I’m spending my free time playing music these days. I keep thinking about getting into wood block printmaking though and I just ordered some carving tools – albeit with the intention of creating some merch!

I do have a part-time day job assembling and setting up banjos for Pisgah Banjo here in Asheville – but it’s the most music-related day job I’ve ever had. When I’m done setting up a banjo part of my job is playing it to make sure the set up feels good, which I always enjoy. I also do a bit of private music teaching.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

I usually need a lot of uninterrupted solo time to really get into a creative flow. It’s also super helpful when I can put my computer and phone away for the day and replace them with poetry books and/or nature walks. And as much as I love being out in nature, I must admit I would still want to retain my creature comforts. I’m envisioning waking up in a cozy cabin close to a lake, stream, or river. I’d come to consciousness feeling well-rested, listening to the sounds of insects and birds and the laughter of the water. Maybe it’s raining softly on the roof? But then the sun comes out, and it’s a perfect 75 degree day, breezy. I’d give myself ample time to rest and take breaks throughout the day, swim, exercise, cook, and eat delicious food… sign me up!


Photo Credit: Rita Kovtun

It’s a Great Time for Roots Music on Broadway

Utter the phrase “Broadway musical” and most folks are likely to assume you’re referring to the jazz-hands-inspiring works of Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein; the emotionally manipulative drama of Andrew Lloyd Weber; or the inventive playfulness of Steven Sondheim. But folk and roots music have a long legacy on the great white way — and a bit of a folk boom has been happening in those storied theaters lately.

Granted, Broadway producers have long presented shows that pull in the music of roots-informed artists. Folk-pop singer-songwriter Duncan Sheik delivered a stunning musical score for the groundbreaking Spring Awakening, cementing the careers of Broadway stars Lea Michelle and Jonathan Groff back in 2006. Let’s not forget brief runs of musicals that pulled from the catalogs of Dolly Parton (2009’s stage adaptation of 9 to 5) and Bob Dylan (Girl from the North Country, which debuted in 2020).

Of the shows currently occupying midtown theaters, Anaïs Mitchell’s Hadestown has run the longest, having just passed its five-year mark. With eight Tony Awards from its 2019 debut, the musical pairs the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice with that of Hades and Persephone. Though its original cast has scattered to other projects, beloved folksinger Ani DiFranco spent a bit of her winter and spring this year offering a stunning run as Persephone.

Ani DiFranco and Anaïs Mitchell outside the Walter Kerr Theater in New York City. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Fans may know DiFranco trained for many years as a dancer, even as she was building her singer-songwriter street cred. She proves to be a triple threat in the role, embodying the storied arbiter of summertime with a deeply rooted, empathic swagger. And though her June 30 departure feels like the end of an era for the musical, her latest album Unprecedented Sh!t (released May 17 on Righteous Babe Records) charts some new sonic territory via her political POVs.

Further, it’s hard to mourn DiFranco moving on when it was recently announced that British country favorite Yola will replace her in the role of Persephone, beginning July 2.

Hadestown was briefly joined last year by fellow roots musical Shucked, which came and went too soon. Awash in silly corn puns and Tampa-centric storyline, its earworm score was penned by Nashville mainstays — and Grammy darlings — Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally.

Last month, Illinoise opened at the St. James Theater on 44th St. Pulling tracks from Sufjan Stevens’s sprawling, ambitious 2006 album of the same name, the show reorders the songs to depict a group of friends sharing stories around a campfire. There is no dialogue. Instead, a 12-piece band and a trio of vocalists in magical butterfly wings perform the music in the background.

Upstage, Illinoise tells its stories through exquisite choreography that runs the gambit from lyrical contemporary to hip-hop, some sweet Broadway jazz, and even one number (“Jacksonville”) with a lightning-fast tapper in pinstripes. Dancers touch on love and loss, fear and transcendence.

“Zombies” becomes a scene about the immigrant experience, as dancer Jeanette Delgado (“Jo”) tries to outrun the ghosts of America’s founders, whose complex legacies still haunt the present day. “The Man of Metropolis” becomes a comical superhero-themed character romp. And former Billy Elliot star Ben Cook (“Carl”) delivers a heartbreaking and inspired series in Act II to track an emotionally complex love triangle.

By show’s end, there is a pervasive sense of the opportunity art grants us to transcend our selves and build a better world together. It’s no wonder the show was nominated for four Tony Awards, including Best Musical. If it wins, it will be the first time a dance musical has won the prestigious award.

The Outsiders, meanwhile, is running now just one block away, at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theater. It sets to music the novel by S.E. Hinton, which was immortalized in a 1980s film by Francis Ford Coppola. Produced in part by Angelina Jolie, with a book by New York theater fixture Adam Rapp (Wolf in the River, The Sound Outside) and music by Americana mainstays Jamestown Revival, this musical version unfortunately doesn’t measure up to the other two roots musicals in the neighborhood.

Granted, perhaps it doesn’t have to. The Broadway League and American Theater Wing don’t seem to be anything less than impressed, having nominated the musical for a whopping 12 Tonys this year. It may not translate seamlessly to the Broadway stage, but The Outsiders is a story that has been beloved by numerous generations. It was a treat to witness members of Generation Alpha giddy with excitement to take in the narrative arc of Ponyboy and the other Curtis brothers — a story that feels to this writer as though it’s rooted in Gen X sensibilities, despite being set in the 1960s.

Choreography by Rick and Jeff Kuperman was athletic and stunning — plenty of leaps and jumps and long, denim-clad legs spinning in the air like human helicopters. The Kuperman brothers’ martial arts background comes through even beyond the inventive dance-fight scenes. There is water on the stage, somehow, and it splashes up from time to time, for some reason. It doesn’t matter why. The effect is properly dramatic.

Brent Comer, who plays “Darryl,” steals the show with his powerful Zac Brown-reminiscent twang. He has some of the most compelling solos, embodying the exhaustion of a stay-at-home-mom as he folds clothes and laments his lot in life, “somewhere between brother and father” since their parents died. Jason Schmidt as “Sodapop” matched his rootsy musicality with the second-act heart grabber, “Throw in the Towel.”

But it is Joshua Boone’s “Dallas” who is perhaps the show’s greatest revelation, with his Bill Withers-esque vocals on solos like “Little Brother.” Brody Grant as Ponyboy seemed a bit lacking during the matinee performance this writer recently caught, but it could have been an off moment. Eight shows a week requires almost superhuman amounts of energy reserve.

Or perhaps it was a side effect of Grant being in his 20s while his character is supposed to be 14. Indeed, despite the electricity of The Outsiders’ score and choreography, the script doesn’t feel as authentic as its emotional realities demand. Hinton’s book offered readers a revolutionary view of teen struggles, written by a teenager. Perhaps the Broadway show should have brought in some teenagers to consult.

Regardless, both Grant and Boone were nominated for Tonys (as was Sky Lakota-Lynch, who delivers a haunting performance as Johnny). For folks just interested in what Jamestown Revival did for the show’s score, an Original Broadway Cast Recording is available now.

All told, there is no indication Broadway is going to break its love affair with roots music anytime soon. The Avett Brothers are set to make their Broadway debut with shipwreck-themed musical Swept Away this fall. The show has previewed in California and Washington, D.C., and has received critical praise already. Swept Away’s score is drawn from the Avetts’ 2004 album, Mignonette, plus four other songs from their canon — a treat for the band’s incredibly loyal fanbase and Broadway subscribers alike.

Further on the horizon is an adaptation of the classic labor movement-inspired film Norma Rae, with music by Rosanne Cash. In an email, her manager indicated a possible 2025 opening. One can only hope. And, just last week, Dolly Parton announced an upcoming original musicalHello, I’m Dolly, set to arrive on Broadway in 2026.


The 77th Tony Awards will be held on Sunday, June 16, 2024 and will air on CBS. Find out how to watch here.

Playbill images courtesy of Playbill.com

MIXTAPE: Wila Frank’s Cinematic Folk

Ever since I started making music, it’s been in this sort of folk-infused soundtrack sort of style. When I was little, I would imagine that I was in a film constantly. I would hear music in my head supporting the emotions I may be feeling. It sort of helped me express my feelings to myself and figure out what sort of character I want to be in this life. My brother is famous for his excellent mixtapes and he introduced me to most of my favorite contemporary artists, many of whom make music in this way; fusing together modern attitudes and techniques with personal impressions of roots music.

There’s something about traditional sounds that really resonate with me. I grew up in a rural place and spent my childhood playing the fiddle. Folk music has always been connected to nature and the sounds that go along with it. Nature is where I do my best self-reflection. The hypnotic rhythm of an acoustic guitar line repeated. The rich, molasses drones of the violin. 

On my debut album Black Cloud, I intentionally challenged myself to produce in a more edgy, alt-rock style. However, I could not escape many of the musical sensibilities I grew up with. You can hear undertones of trad music in my guitar playing, in the song forms, vocal inflections, and choice of vocabulary. This playlist starts off with the first track on my new record and ends with a song from my folk duo with Emily Mann, Paper Wings. Both are songs I wrote and feel very close to my heart. The songs in between have all been inspirations to me over the years and demonstrate of the cinematic quality realized when folk techniques are fused into modern creations and vice-versa. Hope you enjoy. – Wila Frank

“Tonight” – Wila Frank

I wrote Tonight over a rolling guitar line inspired by traditional banjo techniques. While the rest of the production is quite contemporary, you can hear elements of folk influence in my singing. Especially in the line “It’s a long and lonesome road” — a reference to lyrics you would hear in a bluegrass song.

“Fire Snakes” – Laura Veirs 

This has been a favorite song of mine forever. I love the beautiful and unusual contradiction of the acoustic guitar line with the artificial beat. To me, it makes the song feel more emotionally vital and critical. The strings at the end are a luscious bonus.

“Desert Island Disk” – Radiohead

This song reminds me of the trance-like quality of a lot of traditional Malian guitar playing such as Ali Farke Toure who I’m also obsessed with. The simplicity of the production on this song is essential and perfectly supports the beautiful message of the lyrics.

“Walkin’ Boss” – Sam Amidon

This is the only trad American folk song on the playlist. Sam Amidon has a really neat way of taking old Appalachian songs and bringing them into a new contemporary light. The rhythm of the banjo and drums together make you wanna groove and bring out the power of the lyrics.

“Psyche” – Massive Attack

I included this one because the repeating artificial guitar line reminds me of the banjo and is a cool example of the magic achieved when electronic artists sample natural sounds. This particular song was an essential inspiration for me in coming up with the guitar line on my song “Tonight.” When it comes to cinematic music and transporting the listener to a new world, you can’t get any better than Massive Attack. 

“Imitosis” – Andrew Bird

I was obsessed with Andrew Bird when I was a kid for his witty lyrical style, use of the violin as a support instrument for his songs, and the unapologetic quirkiness of his music. On this album, he fuses all kinds of music and makes something completely unique.

“Ecstasy” – Crooked Still

I grew up going to a lot of music camps and owe much of my musical development to various members of Crooked Still. Aoife was one of the first singers I learned from and I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time around this music. I love this album in particular and how this song fuses Appalachian fiddle tones with classical string parts.

“The Weekend” – Dave Rawlings Machine

This song features pop chords, but has Dave Rawlings signature guitar style all over it. It’s a fun Americana-style story of a song. I like how the violin parts sound almost like they’re imitating synthetic strings. A cool example of folk music imitating pop music. 

“Dog Walkers of the New Age” – Breathe Owl Breathe

One of my favorite albums ever. Completely unique and vibey. The lyrics are quirky and witty, and somehow get at an essential emotion of feeling less alone. 

“Grizzly Man” – Rockettothesky

The shimmering acoustic guitar in this track brings this beautiful and spooky song to life. This is the only song I really know from this band, but the haunting, witchy vocal style in this song has stuck with me through the years and has an essence of woodsy appeal.

“Dyin Day” – Anaïs Mitchell

Anaïs Mitchell does a really nice job of innovating within the structure of a song itself. There are elements of traditional call and response in this song, religious references and images of nature, but somehow it still feels relevant and potent.

“Carrie & Lowell” – Sufjan Stevens

This was an incredibly influential album for a lot of people I think. Stevens’ swirling guitar style paired with the vocal effects and simplistic percussive elements make it feel like a pop song without any overly artificial elements. There’s even banjo on this song, but used almost like you would use an arpeggiated synth.

“Middle Distance Runner” – Sea Wolf

To me, this is a perfect pop song with a folk song structure. I love the natural guitar tones and the use of real sounds as percussion. 

“The History of a Cheating Heart” – Damon Albarn

One of my favorite artists, producers, and songwriters of all time. Damon Albarn released this solo record in 2014 upon which he plays this song paired down with acoustic guitar. There’s very minimal production featuring dry and stark strings along with a chorus of harmonies on the bridge. It’s rare to hear such a minimal song recorded at such a high level and the result is beautiful.

“Clementine” – Paper Wings

I wrote Clementine on a writing retreat we went on in Big Sur. Emily and I spent the week sitting in the sun amongst the trees and flowers overlooking the ocean. This is really a simple pop love song, but we paired it down and sang it in harmony over fiddle drones. Arranged this way, it became stark and vulnerable and the essence of the song revealed itself. The imagery of nature became more vivid, and the emotions came across as more sincere.


Photo Credit: David Piñeros

BGS 5+5: Beta Radio

Artist: Beta Radio
Hometown: Wilmington, North Carolina
Latest album: Afraid of Love (EP)
Personal nicknames: Brent is Brent. Benjamin is Ben.

Questions answered by Ben Mabry.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Oh boy, so many. How to answer this question…. Not sure how to distill it down to one, but the music of Sufjan Stevens has been a beacon to me in terms of how to honestly sing about faith and spirituality.

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

I’ve been reading a ton recently, so that’s been pretty huge. Brent gave me a book a year ago called The Way to Love by Anthony De Mello, a Jesuit priest. And that’s having a pretty big influence on this most recent batch of songs. It’s literally showing me the way towards love.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I grew up in North Carolina. I went to school in the mountains, and we lived on the coast, so any time in either of them is more than enough to remind me of the wideness of the world.

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

Oh yeah! This is a big one. Been doing some breath work before I record vocals in the studio these days. I’m learning to sing more openly. I feel like I’m somehow unlocking a little bit more of my chest when I do that. Also, cold showers!

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

It probably was ALL the songs on the Ancient Transition record! I fought through a lot of writer’s block, or self-doubt, or something on that one. Not to mention a few existential crises.


Photo credit: Amanda Holloman

MIXTAPE: The Barefoot Movement’s Holiday Favorites

To get an idea of how much I love Christmas music, I’ll start with a series of questions. Do I have nearly 700 Christmas songs on my iPod? Why, yes I do! Did I scroll through every one of them in search of ideas for this playlist? I sure did! And did I start with about 75 songs, which I had an incredibly hard time whittling down to a mere 14? Yes, yes I did — I take this playlist business quite seriously. Also, on an unrelated note, do I actually still use an iPod classic? You betcha!

As you can plainly see, I love holiday music. At any other time in the year I might weary of hearing 100 versions of the same song. But at Christmas, anything goes. If a band I love has a holiday album, I’m most definitely buying it. In high school — these were pre-Spotify days mind you — I curated my own “playlists” and grouped them into categories like “Christmas Classics,” “Rockin’ Christmas,” and “R&B/Soul” and burned them onto CDs. Every year I would add more songs ’til eventually, they outgrew the CD format!

So I relished the opportunity to put together this specially curated Mixtape for the Sitch. I tried to stay away from the classic category, even though I love “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” as much as the next person. My taste in music is very personal to me, so with every song comes a little story.

I understand that Christmas music is not for everyone. Even some folks who like it in small doses might tire of hearing the same songs year after year. But for me, these annual celebrations — whether Christmas, Halloween, or National Donut Day — give us something to look forward to when the constant toiling of life wears us down. And that is a good and worthy thing, especially in a year when so many joyful things have been canceled. I hope you enjoy this collection and that you’ll get some real enjoyment out of these great songs! Happy listening! — Noah Wall, The Barefoot Movement

Doc Watson, Del McCoury, and Mac Wiseman – “Christmas Time’s A Comin’”

Something about the combination of Doc Watson’s immediately recognizable guitar playing and Del McCoury’s high lonesome tenor, not to mention the great Mac Wiseman (who I just learned was a co-founder of the Country Music Association, who knew?!), transports me directly to a living-room, after-dinner, holiday pickin’ party. This may be the quintessential bluegrass Christmas song and this is my all-time favorite version. I love it so much, it makes me want to learn to flatfoot.

Red Clay Ramblers – “One Rose/Hot Buttered Rum”

The Red Clay Ramblers are a North Carolina-based Americana band who have been making wonderful music since the 1970s. I first heard this song on our local NPR affiliate radio station’s weekend folk show, “Back Porch Music.” I was introduced to many bands on that fabulous little program that is still airing today, from legends like Doc Watson to then-up-and-comers Nickel Creek. It’s been an honor to hear my own music played on there amongst them.

Just once in my life, I’d love to write some lyrics half as good as these, which so beautifully capture the gloom of a wet, cold, melancholy Carolina winter, when even sparkling lights and greenery seem colorless and out of place. Ultimately, it’s a love song, an ode to the ones who keep us warm, no matter the weather. “When dreary Christmas decorations line the streets and filling stations and dime store Santas can’t disguise their empty hands and empty eyes… In the dead of winter, when the tinsel angels come, you’re my sweet maple sugar, honey, hot buttered rum.”

Sufjan Stevens – “That Was the Worst Christmas Ever!”

I am a huge fan of Sufjan Stevens and his wildly imaginative, fearlessly quirky music. I gave his first collection of holiday songs as a Christmas gift to Tommy Norris, our mandolinist and my now-husband, back when we were first dating. It’s since become a staple of our seasonal collection. This song in particular strongly resonated with me, as I can recall moments in my childhood that mirror the lyrics. For many, family relations around the holidays are tense and somewhat less than “holly jolly.” I think that’s okay — holidays can be stressful, and no one is perfect. This Sufjan song offers anyone who has been on the giving OR receiving end of some righteous seasonal stress a lovely cathartic release. Other favorites from this collection are “Only at Christmas Time” and “Hey Guys! It’s Christmas Time!”

Ralph Stanley – “Christmas Is Near”

Ralph wrote this downhome delight himself and originally recorded it with his brother Carter in 1958. This newer version is unabashedly country and I love everything about it. It’s as pure as freshly fallen snow! While some of the songs on my list might highlight the somber side of the season, this one is the exact opposite, with lyrics that round up all the good things that make the holidays special: family, joy, and love. It’s a magical time, if we are lucky enough to be able to focus on these things.

Pearl Jam – “Let Me Sleep (It’s Christmas Time)”

My “Rockin’ Christmas” playlist has all the classic holiday tracks from greats like John Lennon, Eagles, and Queen. It also includes this grunge-era gem. Picture, if you will, 4-year-old Noah, a card-carrying member of the Pearl Jam fan club with a wicked crush on Eddie Vedder. If I remember correctly, this song was on an exclusive vinyl single that was sent to members of said fan club, and I was one of them! It’s such a dreamy tune, and while a look at the lyrics today reveals deeper meaning, 4-year-old me related to the simple joy of taking a cozy nap on a cold day during Christmas vacation. And y’all, I still love naps. Especially Christmas naps. Because I feel like I earn them.

Duke Ellington – “Nutcracker Suite: Peanut Brittle Brigade (March)”

This is a pick from our bassist, Katie Blomarz. She began performing with us in 2015 and brought with her a background in jazz music that was cultivated by her musical family. In her own words, “For me, the Christmas spirit is amplified in jazz/big band arrangements. The Nutcracker Suite interpreted by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn is the perfect harmony of a classical favorite by Tchaikovsky reimagined by a big band for a modern flair. This album has been a special one for my family because my dad, brother and I all grew up playing in big bands, and in non-2020 years, my brother plays this record live every December! It is a swinging change of pace from the pop songs on any Christmas playlist!”

Laurie Lewis & Tom Rozum / Merle Haggard – “If We Make It Through December”

When I was fresh out of high school, I landed a job at a local country music radio station. Though our programming was your typical Top 40 and wasn’t even handled at the local level, we would still get CDs sent to us occasionally, the old school, indie marketing way. This is how I happened upon Laurie Lewis and Tom Rozum’s seasonal album, Winter’s Grace. Believe it or not, this was the first time I had ever heard of Laurie Lewis, and even harder to believe, it was the first time I had ever heard Merle Haggard’s wonderful song (I was only 18, so cut me some slack!) I was an immediate fan of both. The song tells such a relatable story. I am always inspired by the way a song can take a moment in time, no matter how insignificant in the long run, and immortalize it. It’s the perfect healing device that brings comfort and affirmation, even when that moment has long passed. You can’t find Laurie & Tom’s version on streaming services, so we’ll include Merle’s here.

The Jackson 5 – “Give Love on Christmas Day (Group A Cappella Version)”

My R&B Christmas playlists feature tracks by folks like Otis Redding, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, and of course, the entire Jackson 5 Christmas album. This song is what it’s all about. Whether or not you are religious, the sentiment of spreading love is universal, and that very concept is what lies at the heart of Christmas. I love the original Jackson 5 recording, but this one, a special track from The Jackson 5’s Ultimate Christmas Collection, is stripped down to just the vocals. It goes from being a full-fledged, studio package, to an intimate, almost hymn-like family prayer, sung by an extremely talented group of brothers. The quality of their voices is so palpable and innocent, which lends to the sincerity of the message. “Out of the mouths of babes,” indeed.

Rogue Wave – “Christmas”

I love Rogue Wave so much! And I was today years old when I realized that this Christmas tune of theirs from an awesome collection, put together by their label, Brushfire Records, is a cover of a song by The Who from their rock opera, Tommy. I’ve seen it, but I completely forgot about the song. Rogue Wave’s version sparkles like sun reflecting on a snow covered hillside, peppered with sledders. Seriously, that’s exactly what I picture when I hear it.

The Judds – “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem”

One Christmas Eve, I was attending the annual service held at my great grandmother’s church. One of the performers they had scheduled to sing came down with something, and the other musicians asked me to fill in on this song. It went over so well, it turned into a tradition, and I came back and sang it every Christmas Eve for the next 15 years. Needless to say, it earned a very special place in my heart, especially after we lost my grandmother at age 96 back in 2018. Every time I hear this recording, I remember listening to it in my car in the parking lot, to remind myself which part to sing, and my precious grandmother, beaming with pride in the audience. This is another song that I would file under the label “quintessential bluegrass Christmas listening.” The Judds’ version is perfect, thus I have yet to record a version myself, as I can’t think of one thing I would do differently.

Bob & Doug McKenzie – “The Twelve Days of Christmas”

And now a fun one! One of my holiday playlists highlights things that fall into the humor category. The selections include songs like Porky Pig’s “Blue Christmas,” barking dogs singing “Jingle Bells,” and the parody of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man, “I Am Santa Claus.” I have about five spoofs of “The 12 Days of Christmas” because, well, it just lends itself so well to mockery! This one is my favorite. The characters Bob & Doug Mckenzie are fictional Canadian brothers, created and played by Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas on the sketch comedy show SCTV that aired during the ‘70s and ‘80s. I won’t say too much. You’ve probably heard it, but if you haven’t, you should. My favorite line: “Next year, get me a chainsaw.”

Track Dogs – “How Christmas Was Meant to Be”

We met the band Track Dogs at Folk Alliance International several years ago. I was walking by a hotel room showcase and the sound I heard from within made me turn around and go listen. Their typical instrumentation consists of guitar, trumpet, bass, and percussion, and they are made up of members from England, Ireland, and the US, yet the band came together and now resides in Spain. The fusion of all these elements yields something truly unique. Lead singer Garrett Wall, whom I must be distantly related to (at least I hope so) has one of my favorite voices in modern music. This song is eloquently penned, perfectly arranged, and beautifully recorded. A new Christmas favorite for me, to be sure.

The Seldom Scene – “Silent Night”

No autotune here folks, these guys are the real deal. The Seldom Scene is one of my all-time favorite bluegrass bands. When I was a preteen, and all I listened to was Limp Bizkit and Korn, I went through a phase where music like theirs was “too bluegrassy” for my taste. Then one day, I saw the light, thank God. They have such a signature sound, they were true innovators, with harmonies that stand alone in creativity, even today. This song in particular is the perfect example of why people buy Christmas albums. It’s simply pleasing to hear a band you love sing a familiar song, even one that has been recorded thousands of times and sung for centuries. Oh and by the way, I still love Korn and Limp Bizkit and have absolutely no shame in admitting this. If they had Christmas albums, I’d probably buy them.

Ryan Shupe & the Rubberband – “The Gift”

Ryan Shupe & the Rubberband are described as an American rock/bluegrass band on Wikipedia. The “rock/bluegrass” classification kind of makes me chuckle, but it’s true! Their style marries the two seemingly opposite genres of music. We shared a booking agent with the band for a while and we were able to play a few events with them. Every year when I hear this song, my sincere desire to spend my time on Earth doing good is renewed. It’s so hard to keep this ideal at the center of my attention, when the inevitable storms of life keep me constantly distracted and focused on myself, and my innate introversion pressures me into seclusion. But when I hear this song, it gives me the motivation I need to get back out there and try again, to seek to do better in every way I can, to be a friend, an ally, and a comfort to anyone in need. It’s a lofty aspiration, and I am just a work in progress, but this song gives me hope that I might one day find the strength to live up to it.


Photo credit: Workshop Media Co.

The Show On The Road – Dustbowl Revival

This week on the show, a very special finale to our winter season, featuring a group of world-traveling, folk-funk adventurers that have been catapulting American roots music into the 21st century with their exuberant melding of string and brass band traditions and their white knuckle, award-winning live shows. It’s Dustbowl Revival.

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To say today’s episode is personal would be an understatement. Your host Z. Lupetin founded Dustbowl Revival in Venice Beach, CA over ten years ago with a lucky Craigslist ad that started it all. What began as a clandestine jam group with as many as ten instruments going full blast at an after-hours advertising office soon moved to speakeasies and small venues around LA, with the band eventually recording their beloved live album With A Lampshade On at the famed Troubadour in LA and the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco.

In 2013 Liz Beebe joined the group as they began touring full time, becoming a powerhouse eight-piece band that wowed festivals and stages in over a dozen countries, playing over a hundred and fifty shows a year. They’ve released a total of seven full-length records along the way, including their soul-dipped, self-titled work from 2017, which was produced by Grammy-winner Ted Hutt, co-founder of Flogging Molly.

This week celebrates the release of their most daring work to date, Is It You, Is It Me, produced by Sam Kassirer (Lake Street Dive, Josh Ritter) and engineered by Brian Joseph (Bon Iver, Sufjan Stevens). Z. was able to gather the whole band around the mic while on the road in New Hampshire. Make sure you stick around to the end of the episode as the band shares their intimate acoustic single “Let It Go.”