Chris Thile Dives Into New Audible Variety Show, ‘Energy Curfew Music Hour’

Punch Brothers’ new audio-based variety show, The Energy Curfew Music Hour, takes listeners to a fictitious, not-so-distant future where, as the show materials describe, “diminishing resources and extreme weather have ushered in a worldwide effort to ration electricity. America has instituted a weekly ‘energy curfew’ where the power grid goes down completely and we all live electricity-free for 24 hours. The Energy Curfew Music Hour hits the airwaves an hour before the lights go out while the nation tunes in and turns off together before the Dark Day.”

The Audible exclusive, eight-episode series was recorded in front of a live audience at the Minetta Lane Theatre in New York in early 2024 and features a cavalcade of all-star performances backed by Punch Brothers, who serve as co-hosts and house band.

BGS executive director Amy Reitnouer Jacobs spoke to Punch Brothers’ frontman Chris Thile about the show and what’s next for the band.

What a good way to start my week, chatting with you! I’d love to start by hearing how The Energy Curfew Music Hour started.

Chris Thile: [My wife, Claire Coffee] and I came up with the idea a long time ago… originally it was like a show within the show for Live From Here.

We always thought maybe two-thirds of the way in the show, we would all of a sudden flash-forward to a future that was like this. And we’d gather round one microphone, because I’ve always loved the sounds of those old variety shows and their campy-ness.
And then of course, practically speaking, there’s not much of a platform for acoustic music out there. That was the thing I missed the most on Live From Here: I was obliged to at least try to concern that show with the width and breadth of the music being made in the world, regardless of aesthetic.

Norah Jones joins Punch Brothers on stage at Energy Curfew Music Hour at Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre in New York City.

There’s something in what you mentioned about old-time radio shows with one microphone. When you think about when those were popular, it was the Dust Bowl, the Depression, a time that was really hard for most people. And the radio brought everyone together. So, in an age where we are so splintered as a society, I find [Energy Curfew Music Hour] very comforting. But there are elements of dark humor throughout too… am I reading too much into it?

Oh, no you’re right on it. There’s a certain aspect we always talked about, trying to strike the balance between shameless optimism and at the same time as I think it is really staring the monster [of reality] in the face. The extent to which we’ve imagined life has changed in a very short amount of time is huge. None of us have pseudonyms. We’re all [playing ourselves], so it can’t be that far in the future.

The extent to which we’ve imagined that life has changed is dramatic and potentially traumatic. And there’s some gallows humor throughout that. But despite taking place in this “dystopian future,” there’s nothing actually futuristic about the show. We wanted it to feel like a little bit of escapism, but a little bit real too.

Yeah, we know that change happens very fast in our world today. It’s not that hard to put yourself in those shoes when you’re listening.

That’s good to hear. Claire and the band and I keep talking about the increased emphasis on collaboration, compared with Live From Here, which was more just “Here are some acts that we love…” But those acts coexisting or working with me or the band … those were few and far between on that show, whereas on this show, it’s every episode. That’s also something of an analogy for the kind of thing we have to do just as human beings, not just as musicians, to effect the kind of change that we’re all hoping to see [in the world].

Gaby Moreno guests with Punch Brothers during the Energy Curfew Music Hour.

Can you talk a little more about working with Claire? I know you guys have worked together on Attention!, [a new narrative live show for mandolin and orchestra], which you’re taking more places now. What is your process like being married and collaborating?

I think I realized [during the pandemic] how shamelessly I had used Claire’s incredible taste as a sounding board for just about everything I’d done since we met. So I hired her to produce the solo record I made, Lay Songs. Then I hired her for Attention! and she helped me tell the story of how I met Carrie Fisher on a rooftop bar in San Diego in my mid-twenties, in what ended up being a really silly story, but also a very foundational experience for me in many ways.

When you’re telling a story like that – really when you’re working on any art – you get so inside of the thing, it’s very difficult to know how it’s coming across or if any of the stuff that’s so clear to you is landing with any other human. Claire is one of the very few people in my life who has absolutely no problem telling me when I’m full of shit, and it can be intense, but it invariably yields a better result.

So, when a couple people had asked me whether I wanted to do something like Live From Here again, I thought about it for a little while and remembered Claire’s and my idea for a show within a show. I asked Claire whether she would be interested in trying to make that a whole show and then fairly soon after that, the idea of Punch being the house band and co-hosts with me materialized and it was really off to the races.

It all felt very comfortable and natural. Claire is not a musician by trade; she’s an actor and writer and now director, and she’s always been the person that all her writer friends go to for their first round of notes. She has an extraordinary ability to strip away and identify what’s in between the writer and their audience – of what’s getting in the way. We’ve benefited a lot from that.

Sylvan Esso perform during a taping for Energy Curfew Music Hour episode 5 at Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre in New York City.

You’ve got some incredible names in this first season as guests – Norah Jones, Lake Street Dive, Jon Batiste, Kacey Musgraves, and James Taylor, just to name a few. Who brought the most surprising acoustic performance to the show?

Sylvan Esso came in and were really excited to not do what they normally do. To be there with them using Punch Brothers, wielding us like a laptop and basically muting and unmuting us, but all in analog! I think that was a moment of proof-of-concept for me. When we did that, I found myself cackling with surprise and delight. I hadn’t suspected that it would crack the show open to a whole other level.

You’re premiering some new Punch Brothers songs on the series too. Is there something else cooking for the band? What’s ahead now that you’ve added Brittany Haas to the lineup?

The band feels very, very new. We’re in uncharted territory and it’s so interesting. Four-fifths of the band is the same. You change one component and it feels completely new in the writing room, in the rehearsal room, and on stage. At this stage in the band’s career, that’s really interesting. So yes, there are new Punch Brothers songs and they’re being written specifically for Energy Curfew now, but of course, with an eye towards whatever’s coming next.


Season One of The Energy Curfew Music Hour is out now via Audible and is available to stream for free for Amazon Prime members. Discover more about the show here.

Photo Credit: All photos by Avery Brunkus, courtesy of Audible.

BGS 5+5: The Bones of J.R. Jones

Artist name: The Bones of J.R. Jones
Hometown: Manlius, New York
Latest Album: A Celebration
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): J.R./ Jonny, Jon Jon.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

My favorite memories are the unexpected ones and I mean that in the most literal sense. Most nights on tour I take the stage exhausted and it takes a song or two for me to fall in rhythm. I remember one night in while on tour in England I took the stage after a 8-hour drive, traveling across three different countries, going through customs and after getting a speeding ticket… my mood was sour, to say the least. The first song I played knocked me over. The crowd knew every word and sang as loud as my guitar was ringing. It turned out to be one of the best shows on that tour. That’s the magic of the stage, for that hour or so… reality disappears.

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

I think I am most moved and inspired by dancing. I am always in awe of the control and discipline dancers have… something I like to strive for in my music, but feel I never truly achieve because I let my emotions take the song away from me, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but not always where I want to go with my music. The beautiful thing about art is that one discipline often informs and adds to others. I often think about this while watching a dancer and how the music chosen or written for the piece is just as important as the choreography. The same goes for film and the visual arts.

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

I don’t think I knew it at the time, but I remember listening to Springsteen’s Born in the USA when I was young and feeling so completely invested and overwhelmed by the songs. It struck me deep and resonates with me till this day. The heartbreak, the hurt, the feeling like you are being left behind and the drive for recognition… all the while you are just doing the best you can with the hand you are dealt. Every time I step into a studio that album subconsciously shows up in the strangest ways in my production.

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

Every song is tough. I mean it, every damn song. I have never been fortunate enough to have a song just flow through me. And truthfully the only reason a song is ever done is because I have to record it, ha ha. I try to tell myself that a recording is a song at that one moment. That a song is a living thing and tomorrow it will change on me again and we will have to find a new balance between each other.

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

Every time. I mean you have to. How else can you make anything feel relatable? You need to live it to a degree. It doesn’t need to be autobiographical, but it does need to be true.


Photo credit: Christian Harder

Mountain Man: The Magic of Women in Harmony

The splendor of women’s voices raised in harmony has found fresh spirit in the modern folk era. From The Wailin’ Jennys to The Secret Sisters, groups built around visceral vocal blends — whether backed by instruments or a cappella — have continued the powerful legacy formed by the Carter Sisters, Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard, and other tenacious singers.

Mountain Man’s Amelia Meath, Alexandra Sauser-Monnig, and Molly Erin Sarlé discovered their harmonies while studying at a liberal arts college in Vermont, and turned their quick and fast friendship into the 2010 debut album, Made the Harbor. Then life pulled the members in different directions (Meath, for starters, co-founded electronic pop duo Sylvan Esso), and their next project took much longer to arrive than anyone anticipated.

Magic Ship, the trio’s sophomore album and their first on Nonesuch Records, finds the group experimenting with rhythm and cadence to give their original tracks a pop and flourish that doesn’t always exist in such partnerships. As friends who have found a kind of family in the way their voices blend, Magic Ship is about celebrating that bond and all its magic.

I saw you perform at Eaux Claires last year. Did you already have plans to record again, or did it take that set to see the bigger possibility?

Amelia: The Eaux Claires set was kind of a tester just to see if it felt the same to sing together, and what it would feel like to do that. After that set, we were immediately like, ‘Oh of course we’ll do a record. That’s a great idea.’

The audience was rapt.

Alexandra: That felt like such a special time because we had no idea after seven years, or whatever, how many people were going to show up—to have people continue to arrive and fill out the woods, and stand in places where it was not comfortable to stand just to try and hear a little bit. … I think festivals can be a tricky thing for a largely a cappella band, and that stage is the perfect festival translation for [such] a band.

In describing a trio of women’s voices, I feel like some people have resorted to hackneyed descriptions based on myth—like sirens. How do you see yourselves pushing back against that stereotype, or trying to do something within that image?

Molly: I imagine when we’re singing together, we’re not trying to do anything other than be ourselves, so I don’t see us as pushing back against it in any other way besides not trying to play into it.

Amelia: I think like with most things you do while you’re a woman, if you do it without thinking about it, you are being subversive in a lot of ways.

Alexandra: You’re just saying, “Fuck all of that, and we are who we are. Here we are.”

Molly: There is that thing that I like about this, other than the fact that sirens are people that pull men to their death, which is also funny. I do like the assignment of magic, which I think is something we get to live in when we sing together.

It’s interesting that you use the word “magic,” because harmonies that close are almost familial, like you only get it from sisters or brothers. How do you explain your closeness?

Alexandra: I feel like magic is the way that we commonly explain it to ourselves. When we first started singing together it did feel like powerful magic, like, “Whoa, this feels like nothing else has ever felt. It’s really cool and I want to do it more.” It feels like a really honest form of connection, and it’s a special, wild thing that we all happened to meet each other at the same time and discover this thing. Magic is part of the definition.

You cover Ted Lucas’ “Baby Where You Are,” and you’ve retained that to some degree. What was the recording process like for that particular track?

Amelia: For me, I learned about that record from our friend William Tyler who had something to do with its release in general, so I didn’t even know that he’s a Midwestern artist, but I like that. Recording it was really fun. It’s always so great to sit down and figure out a song with your pals.

What does the arranging process look like when you’re dealing with an original song?

Amelia: It looks like us singing it about five times and making suggestions, and that’s about it. Usually we’re like, “Ok, well uh we’ll do that. That sounds good.”

Molly: Similar to the way we work on the songs that we write as individuals and then bring together in that usually when we choose a cover, someone is holding down the main framework of the song, and then the other two are working around that to complete the feel.

So the lead always switches?

Alexandra: Yeah. And usually the notes we hit are kind of up to whoever has the idea of what part to hit. Sometimes we’ll be like, “Oh, there’s this note up here that we like. Will I just abandon my bass part and go up higher?” And then what harmony makes sense with that first initial, intuitive idea?

“Stella” and “Rang Tang Ring Toon” feel straight out of a traditional songbook. What inspired those songs? What was your composition process like?

Amelia: I wrote the song “Stella”— or I wrote the lyrics and the melody, and then we did the arrangements together, like we do with all of our songs — but I never really thought of it as being plucked from the past. At the time that I wrote it, I was thinking that we were going to be writing a children’s record, so I wanted to write a song about a kid playing outside in New York. That’s where it’s placed for me, in Manhattan in the 1980s.

Molly: It always reminded me of a Paul Simon song. Our manager Martin thought it was a song about a cat.

Situated next to “Stella,” you’ve got “Underwear,” which—and I mean this in the most loving way possible—is such a beautiful weirdo of a song. What inspired that?

Amelia: That was about dealing with turning into your parents in some ways, and also inspired by the search for the perfect pair of underwear, which is a real struggle.

Have you found one that you like? Is it a brand or a cut?

Amelia: No, and I keep on doing this thing where every time I find a pair that I think might be it, I’ll buy 30 of them and be like, “This is my underwear forever,” and then three weeks later, I’ll be like, “I don’t like this underwear anymore,” and I’ll have this sea of underwear.

Alexandra: I didn’t know you did that with underwear!

What do you do with the leftovers?

Amelia: I keep them and wear them out of guilt.

How do you decide which songs are best serviced by instruments and which are best left as an a capella affair?

Alexandra: I feel like often, Molly and I will write songs with a guitar, and those are the songs that have guitar. I don’t think we’ve ever retroactively added instrumentation to anything.

How have your other projects — Molly and Alexandra, your solo work, and Amelia, your work with Sylvan Esso — informed this new collection of songs?

Alexandra: I feel like so much of our music is about feeling, and where we are in life and I think having lived our lives in different directions from each other just informs it in a subconscious way. We have years of life lived to draw on, and years of experience in bands, or doing whatever that we’ve been doing, so I feel like we’re bringing more varied things to the table than we were when we were 20.

It’s brighter, too, even though the themes aren’t always!

Amelia: Yeah, bringing in the joy.

Alexandra: Bringing in the joy!

Necessary in this day and age.

Amelia: Darn tootin’.


Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

MIXTAPE: Bobby Britt’s Songs of Hard-Won Joy

The songs and artists on this playlist evoke a sense of hard-fought, hard-won, deep and rich joy. It is not a simple, one-dimensional joy. It has the sound of being churned about, tried and tested again. And now, just maybe, the joy being properly vetted, can be enjoyed. I look up to these artists, as they convey a message of calm and confident optimism.

We are all faced with the dualities of a temporal world…birth and death, gain and loss, pleasure and pain.

These songs speak to the strength of the human spirit amidst that world, and give me courage to carry on regardless of what’s happening, good or bad. They also provide a glimpse at an eternal reality of peace and balance (that has nothing to do with time, space or duality) that is hard to see or believe in when I am churning in the opposites…fear of loss, a craving for more and more solidity, and the dread that I will never have or be enough.

We need artists for this very reason; to go beyond our normal, conditioned ways of thinking about life, and to give us a new perspective with which to test our old and sometimes outdated paradigms.

My area of expertise is bluegrass and old-time fiddle. Though I am not a vocalist or pop artist, I gain inspiration from all styles. The feeling and sound of the above mentioned “hard-won joy” is what transcends specific genres for me. A goal of mine is to take this base emotional element, and with it, transfuse my fiddle playing and songwriting.

My hope is that you can find some joy and something to relate to in these songs as I did. Thank you for listening.


Photo Credit Louise Bichan