Tag: Telluride Bluegrass Festival

The Many Journeys of I’m With Her’s Second Album, ‘Wild and Clear and Blue’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

More than eight years since the February 2017 release of their acclaimed debut album See You Around, Aoife O’Donovan, Sarah Jarosz, and Sara Watkins have come back together with an abundance of history, both individual and shared, on which to reflect as they began to craft I’m With Her‘s second full length album, Wild and Clear and Blue.

The three multi-instrumentalists and songwriters are beloved in folk and bluegrass circles and known cumulatively for a treasure trove of work as solo artists, in ensembles, and as co-writers and producers. Internationally renowned live performers, they were most recently celebrated under their collaborative moniker as part of the 62nd GRAMMY Awards, when their original single, “Call My Name,” was awarded Best American Roots Song. This accolade alone showed just how creatively in sync these women continued to be, even as time marched forward and each turned their focuses toward individual projects and significant personal life changes – marriage, next generations, moving homes, passing on of family – all while discerning unique perspectives about the broader transformations of society around them.

Once they felt the spark to start a second album, finally reuniting in 2024 to write and record, the embers of Wild and Clear and Blue grew not only from Watkins, Jarosz and O’Donovan’s pool of collectively evolved musicianship and artistry, but from their sharing of experiences and emotions as they cheered each other on from afar. The candid nature of the trio fully reuniting opened new paths of empathy and resonance between them – paths which go beyond their stunning musical chemistry and into a deeper space of what Jarosz earnestly calls “chosen family.” The songs tell assorted stories, nodding to the familial bonds and identities the three women hold dear in their respective lives but as a unified album, Wild and Clear and Blue is also an eloquent expression of the profound appreciation O’Donovan, Jarosz, and Watkins have for each other, as well as for the support and understanding they have realized and embraced in their ever-evolving bond.

Continuing our Artist of the Month coverage, O’Donovan, Jarosz, and Watkins spoke with BGS about the organic spirit of creativity built into Wild and Clear and Blue, how the preciousness of different relationships in their lives is embodied in the music, the one-of-a-kind nuances that make the experience of listening to the album especially distinct, and more.

You mention the album providing a focus on “connecting with your past and figuring out what you want for your future.” How did each of you decide what parts of your past you felt most inclined to explore and what feels most important to you going into the future?

Sara Watkins: When we came together to write the album, there was a time of just reconnecting. We haven’t seen each other or really been with each other for a couple of years and we wanted to reconnect in a way, [asking ourselves] “Who are we now?” You know, now that we’ve all gone through so much since our last record. A lot of things that we were talking about and processing in our personal lives were overlapping with each other and so it felt clear to us. The things that came up in the songwriting process all felt like it was self evident that that’s what we wanted, or desired, to share and to mine [through] a little bit.

And so it’s less of an abstract strategy of, “I’m going to share this about myself. I’m going to open up this chapter of my life for this album,” and more like, “What’s coming to the surface right now that’s affecting me and that I’m sorting through?” We found that a lot of what we were sorting through overlapped or that we related to each other, and that was the stuff that we ended up writing about.

You express that there’s an “ease to letting go when something isn’t working.” What does it look like when things are “working,” versus when something doesn’t fit and you collectively decide to move on?

Aoife O’Donovan: I think when we’re in the writing room, it’s always such an exciting moment when something starts to click and we start jamming on it and we start figuring out the groove and figuring out the melody. Then we’ll maybe get into a vibe [where] we’ll all kind of put our heads down on our laptops and be typing out words and be like, “Okay, let me try something.” When you sort of bring a line or change your melody note here, or add a harmony part, or it says this – it’s an exciting sort of burst. It’s like the champagne bottle pops and you’re like, “Okay, yes! Let’s keep going, let’s keep going!” It really fuels the next thing. And I think that with this trio, one of my favorite things to do is write music with Sarah and Sara. It doesn’t feel like a chore in the way that sometimes writing [solo music] for me can feel like a chore. When we’re together writing, it’s almost like you get to the party and you see what’s going to happen at the party.

Sarah Jarosz: The songwriting process has always felt like an extension of the vocal arranging process in a way, because I feel like that’s how we started out before we ever tried to write together. We arranged songs together. We arranged “Crossing Muddy Waters” together and that was a really cool precursor to know how we communicate with each other with a pre-existing song. Then that sort of carried over into the songwriting process to be this amazing, like Aoife said, light bulb movement. When it’s flowing, it’s just flowing so well and things that don’t work are just sort of easily falling aside. It’s really special. We’ve all worked with a lot of other people, so I think we all know how rare that is when it does just flow.

The way you all talk about the dynamic of working with each other has this very uplifting, very, “it’ll all work itself out in the end,” kind of mentality, which I think speaks a lot to your collective experience with each other.

SJ: Just to add to that, the three of us, I think, have pretty similar work ethics. It’s not just, “Oh, well, this is all free and easy and breezy.” I think part of the reason that it feels easy is that we put a similar amount of effort into it. Really showing up for each other, energetically giving each other the attention and the love. A lot of these songs start out as conversations, like Sara said, just that shared energy.

SW: I think it’s important to note that, yes, it’s magic and it works. We are so compatible. But part of that work ethic that Jarosz was talking about is staying at the table and not giving up on something completely. Maybe putting something aside and coming back to it later while you work on something else.

I love working with with these two who, if something’s not right, if any one of us isn’t completely excited about something or feels confused about the direction of a song or lyric, we all are very willing to stay at the table until things come together, until we’re all happy, or it’s really clicking on all sides. I think working and staying with it while it’s not working is what makes those beautiful moments [happen] when things are all yesses and when we are in flow. It shows the magic, because it doesn’t always happen but we were able to work through it in a way that’s crucial, I think, for ultimately getting something that we’re really proud of.

AO: It also gives a really unique sense of ownership over all of the material in this band, for each of us. I feel like when we finish a song and when we finish this album, we really can listen to the entire thing and be like, “Yep, I stand behind it” – at least that’s how I feel. Like, “I stand behind all the decisions, and I fully support how every single song turned out. And I really feel like this is our thing, and it’s not just one person’s thing.”

Sarah Jarosz mentions there’s something “beautiful” about having “Ancient Light” start the album, because it’s “addressing the heavier themes of the album in a way that’s more a celebration of life rather than grieving what’s been lost.” Yet,“Wild and Clear and Blue” was the first song written for the project and it establishes your shared embrace of generational connection as the inspired theme. These two songs feel like they could be fraternal twins of introductory tracks. To that end, how was the process of deciding track sequence, particularly given how it can significantly affect the trajectory of an album and how it’s received?

SW: We were at Outlier Studio, listening back to a couple of things and one of us started writing, maybe it was Jarosz, a sequence. We were passing this little paper back and forth. I still have this paper that has like, three separate sequences that we were considering as initial ideas. I think that it ended up somewhere close to what we came to, that first day of writing sequences, because it is so, so important. One thing that I really love, that I think we all really love, starting with “Ancient Light,” [it’s] a little bit more produced. It’s one of the more produced songs on the album or, it’s in the more produced half of the album. We wanted people to hear that. Going to “Wild and Clear and Blue” afterwards, it felt like we were letting people come back to a sound that felt more like the live shows we did on the last tour and more like the first album. It was a nice way of connecting the projects, I think. But we really wanted to have an arc, in terms of the content, and to consider all those things that then make an album feel more like a unit than a series of segmented songs.

SJ: I feel like sometimes making records, I have a sense much earlier on of what should be where, but I feel like this one it took until that last day or so to have this feeling of the arc. But, with that being said, I feel like a lot of us were saying, “Oh, ‘Ancient Light,’ it’s kind of an obvious opener for setting the stage.”

AO: I think also the opening lyric of “Ancient Light,” to me, is the biggest reason why I love that the song opens the record. “Better get out of the way/ Gonna figure out what I’m gonna say/ It’s been a long time coming…” – I just love that idea, that it has been seven years since our last record. Maybe it’s too on the nose, but I think it’s a great opening to bring people in, to sort of invite people back into our world.

You talk about a sense of unspoken synergy but conversely, how much would you say you lean into individual qualities of your writing that make each of your styles memorable?

SJ: I’m not sure that there’s a whole lot of conscious effort going into thinking, “How would each of us represent our own style?” I think that just largely happens naturally. At the end of the day, we’re trying to incorporate musical and lyrical decisions that make us stoked, that get us excited.

When we’re writing, it’s just the three of us. So I think we’re trying to utilize musical tools. That sounds really sterile, but [we’re trying] to make it interesting within the confines of just three people. And then, kind of figuring out, “How do you make a song come alive?”

This album totally feels so, so deeply visual. I feel like we were more tapped into that with this record than with the first. Utilizing those [visual ideas] in a way throughout the songwriting process that make us have a chill moment or maybe a moment where you’re moved to tears, or just doing the thing that gets you excited about the song.

Family, motherhood, and sisterhood make up prominent undercurrents of the album, but especially the latter. As you’ve formed these different bonds and have related to one another in these different ways over the years, how have these identities impacted your shared experience as a group, especially while working on Wild and Clear and Blue?

AO: Two of us are mothers and Sarah Jarosz is not a mother at this point in her life, but I think what’s been really beautiful about this record and about the themes that you brought up – the themes of sisterhood, motherhood, and the themes of being an only daughter – something that I’ve loved to point out to people is that Sarah Jarosz is an only daughter and Sara Watkins and I both have only daughters. When I was listening to this album for the first time with my daughter Ivy Jo, she was listening to it and when the song “Only Daughter” came on she said, “Mommy, is this about me?” It makes me almost cry, retelling that story, because in many ways, yes, it’s this universal experience that our daughters share with our dear friend and bandmate as an only daughter and I love that sort of circle of being.

We’re at different points in our lives within this band. Over the last several years, there’s been a lot of things that we’ve experienced – like huge life events since our last album came out. I lost my father. Sarah Jarosz got married. There have been many big moments that we’ve walked through alongside one another and I think those experiences have definitely shaped who we are, who we were when we went into the studio, and who we continue to be.

SJ: As this band has evolved and grown, those kind of shared family moments have absolutely drawn us closer as a band and allowed the music to reach this deeper level. I think one of my favorite memories as a band was actually in 2018 at Telluride, when all of our families were there. I think it was the only time when everyone was in the same place. Just getting on stage and seeing my parents, all of our parents and children, it was incredibly special and kind of rare. I feel like it has inevitably affected the music in a truly beautiful and full circle way.

In “Sisters of the Night Watch,” the verses mention things about personal sinfulness, being forced to crawl in the mud on your knees, and running into ghosts, with respite from all these things only being found in sisterhood. What inspired these particular images and personal trials?

SW: A lot of this song is about getting through the wilderness that is life and finding your respite, finding your people, or your place – even if it’s not a final destination and just along the way. I think that could take any form in someone’s life. But it does feel sometimes like we’re crawling through the mud in life, making very little progress, like everything is just wilderness around you, and you’re trying to make sense of it all. I think we’ve all felt like that at various times and are just looking for a moment or a day, where you feel safe. It could just be emotionally safe or it might just be some rest – just a break from feeling like everything is hard. I think it’s trying to find those people and trying to find that thing that makes you feel like you can rest for a little bit and you’ll be okay.

SJ: This also feels slightly related to “Only Daughter” in a way, at least for me, this idea of “Sisters of the Night Watch” that was sort of emerging in the writing process. For me, I am an only child and daughter and this band is the closest thing I’ve felt to having sisters, something we talked about a lot. I believe Aoife’s beautiful statement about our shared deep connection with our families is so amazing in this band. But also, your chosen family, as you go through life and who you walk and processes and choose to do life with, I feel like we’re this band of sisters, but then it can be so much more than that as well.

Much the same way you connected with particular artists and songs that your families shared with you in the past, what do you hope that younger generations and generations yet-to-come will connect with through this album?

AO: I hope that people will listen to Wild and Clear and Blue and be able to see themselves in these songs. This album is such a journey – I hate to use the word because it’s so overused – but it really is. There are so many songs, even when you guys are talking about the lyrics of “Sisters of the Night Watch” and crawling through the dried out river on your knees, that song is a journey. It’s one character on that journey. “Find My Way to You” is maybe a different character on the same on the same journey, but maybe experiencing it from a different perspective. Even in “Ancient Light,” you’re trying to get to that clearing and you’re trying to say that when you get there, you’re not going to put up a fight.

It’s sort of like, what is the end goal here? I think that listening to that, people who are young, old, people who are yet to come, I hope that this album does stand the test of time and that people can pick it up in an apocalyptic world, put it on, and be able to relate to it.

Find more of our Artist of the Month content on I’m With Her here.

Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Adrian + Meredith, Mark Stoffel, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

You’ve reached the end of another week so let’s celebrate like we always do, with a round up of exciting video and track premieres from our BGS family. Below, find a new video skewering NFTs and the commodification of art from folk string duo Adrian + Meredith, plus mandolinist Mark Stoffel covers a bluegrass gospel classic with an all star cast of pickers – and double mandolin!

Plus, earlier this week on BGS, Certified Guitar Player Tommy Emmanuel debuted a brand new performance video of “Bella Soave,” from his iconic album Endless Road in celebration of its 20th Anniversary edition releasing. And, progressive Colorado bluegrass outfit Meadow Mountain continue their SkyTheory Sessions with “Trail to Telluride.”

Here’s hoping your new music Friday is flush with excellent, exciting, engaging new songs. Like these few below, and to be honest – You Gotta Hear This!

Adrian + Meredith, “NFT”

Artist: Adrian + Meredith
Hometown: East Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “NFT”
Release Date: May 17, 2024 (single)
Label: Vertigo Productions

In Their Words: “Exploring the themes of NFTs in the song, we reflect on the history of patron-driven commissioned artwork and on the complexities of how, as a society, artwork is ‘valued.’ Who decides what art is worth? Who decides as a culture what art is worthy of preserving? How have barriers of artistic gatekeeping prevailed and adapted as society has progressed?

“All these questions made this music video engaging to create. It was shot at a location called The Forge Nashville, which is a co-working space for artists and makers that offers affordable access to the tools, space, and support artists and makers need to succeed. As AI and mass consumption of art threatens artists of every medium, we wanted to highlight the importance of art and artists as part of robust community ecosystems. As we navigate a changing world, our passion for original, independent artistry, the power of live music, and the strength of community that comes from both has deepened and that really comes out in the lyrics of this song.

“This track was particularly fun to write and record. The complementing verses highlight two different perspectives, one from Adrian and one from me, and were written separately using the same prompts. The vocals, drums, bass, violin, and guitar came together so well in the studio that they are one full live studio take. After initial mixing, we spent an afternoon with Chris Eldridge (Punch Brothers, Mighty Poplar) working out a harmony line for the fiddle pizzicato, which he recorded on guitar, had Henry Westmoreland (Squirrel Nut Zippers) add in trumpet flair, and had Paul Niehaus (Justin Townes Earle, Calexico) add in his magic on pedal steel.” – Meredith Krygowski

Track Credits:
Adrian Krygowski – Vocals, acoustic guitar
Meredith Krygowski – Vocals, fiddle, clogging
John Kveen – Bass
Bronson Tew – Drums, engineering
Henry Westmoreland – Horns
Chris “Critter” Eldridge – Electric & acoustic guitar
Paul Niehaus – Pedal steel

Video Credits: Kaedi Maney Dishen and Ryan Dishen – Videographers and editing
Shot at The Forge Nashville.

Mark Stoffel, “I’m Using My Bible for a Road Map”

Artist: Mark Stoffel
Hometown: My birthplace and original hometown is Munich, Germany. My adopted hometown is Murphysboro, Illinois
Song: “I’m Using My Bible for a Road Map”
Release Date: May 10, 2024 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “Years ago, Chris Jones & the Night Drivers were booked to play a Sunday morning show at the Blueberry Music Festival in Stony Plain, Alberta. I suggested we add ‘I’m Using My Bible for a Road Map’ to the setlist because I just love the simple beauty of this Reno & Smiley classic. I was lucky enough to record my version with Chris Luquette on guitar, Ross Sermons on Bass, Tony Creasman on drums, Rob Ickes on Dobro, Niall Murphy on Fiddle, and Alan Bibey on mandolin. Alan contributed a super tasteful mandolin twin part on the last go-around of the tune. Check it out — I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed recording it!” – Mark Stoffel

Track Credits:

Mark Stoffel – Mandolin, guitar
Rob Ickes – Dobro
Alan Bibey – Twin mandolin
Chris Luquette – Guitar
Niall Murphy – Fiddle
Ross Sermons – Bass
Tony Creasman – Drums

Tommy Emmanuel, “Bella Soave” (from Endless Road)

Artist: Tommy Emmanuel
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Bella Soave”
Album: Endless Road: 20th Anniversary Edition
Release Date: May 17, 2024
Label: CGP Sounds

In Their Words: “The song was written after my first visit in Soave, Italy in 1999. It was the first festival I ever played. I was so happy and overjoyed from the experience of the festival that I started writing when I got into the backseat of the car. We were driving from Soave down to Rome for a show and workshop, and I wrote this song on the way there. I got it finished and played it that night at the show. I tried to give it a sort of Spanish feel in the bridge, because I had met a lot of Spaniards that weekend at the festival. Bella Soave means ‘beautiful Soave.’ It’s a beautiful place and has been a big part of my musical life.” – Tommy Emmanuel

More here.

Meadow Mountain, “Trail to Telluride”

Artist: Meadow Mountain
Hometown: Denver, Colorado
Song: “Trail to Telluride”
Release Date: May 6, 2024 (single)

In Their Words: “I have attended the Telluride Bluegrass festival every year for over 12 years now. It is where I fell in love with bluegrass music and it is where I felt my first calling to write the music of the Rocky Mountains. This song tells a fictional story of a miner in the late 1800s who traveled from Denver to Telluride in an attempt to strike it rich mining for silver. While I am no miner, I do feel that the story tracks with the life of a working musician. You go out there to try something new, and if it doesn’t stick, you reset and get back to work.” – Summers Baker, guitar and songwriter

More here.

Photo Credit: Adrian + Meredith by Kaedi Maney Dishen; Mark Stoffel courtesy of the artist.

WATCH: Meadow Mountain, “Trail to Telluride” (SkyTheory Sessions)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Meadow Mountain
Hometown: Denver, Colorado
Song: “Trail to Telluride”
Release Date: May 6, 2024 (single)

(Editor’s Note: Over the next few weeks, Colorado-based bluegrass band Meadow Mountain will premiere a series of four exclusive, live performance videos of newly releasing tracks. Watch each installment of their SkyTheory Sessions on Thursdays each week for the next three weeks right here, on BGS.)

In Their Words: “I have attended the Telluride Bluegrass festival every year for over 12 years now. It is where I fell in love with bluegrass music and it is where I felt my first calling to write the music of the Rocky Mountains. This song tells a fictional story of a miner in the late 1800s who traveled from Denver to Telluride in an attempt to strike it rich mining for silver. While I am no miner, I do feel that the story tracks with the life of a working musician. You go out there to try something new, and if it doesn’t stick, you reset and get back to work.” – Summers Baker, guitar and songwriter

Track Credits: Written by Summers Baker

Photo Credit: Video still by Erik Fellenstein

Video Credits: Videography – Erik Fellenstein
Lighting – Payden Widner
Mixing – Vermillion Road Studio

After Nearly 50 Years in Music, Tim O’Brien Is More Comfortable With Himself

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Over his celebrated career, which has now spanned nearly half a century, Tim O’Brien has gained notoriety as an instrumentalist and singer with the bluegrass band Hot Rize, and for his original songs, which have been recorded by Garth Brooks, The Chicks, Nickel Creek, and many more. In recent decades, the Grammy Award-winner has recorded as a solo artist and in collaboration with Darrell Scott, Dirk Powell, Sturgill Simpson, and most recently with his wife, Jan Fabricius. 

We caught up with O’Brien on the heels of his annual trip to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, where he is considered an institution, to discuss his new record Cup of Sugar, which sees him taking on the role of a societal elder. Throughout the collection of songs, O’Brien takes on the perspectives of several different animals as a way of learning from the natural world, as well as characters such as Walter Cronkite. In our conversation, O’Brien explores what it means to be comfortable with your role and direction as an artist, and clarifies his artistic goal – to continue being more and more himself.

BGS: You have a lot of animal references on this album, what do you think is bringing you to those themes right now? 

Tim O’Brien: You know, it’s funny, I had actually written a song with Thomm Jutz called “Old Christmas Day” on January 6th.  January 6th was Christmas in the Julien Calendar before they changed it to be more in line with the solar system. Anyway, the legend was that on Old Christmas Day, the animals all talk to each other. After writing that song I was actually thinking about trying to do a whole record of animal songs… but I went to a bunch of stuff I had already, so I decided to split it up. I think that’s what inspired the direction.

I love “Shout LuLu,” the song about the Tennessee border collie, who inherited the wealth of her owner Bill Dorris. Dorris was the subject of controversy because of the statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest, Confederate general and leader of the KKK, which was displayed prominently on his land facing the highway. How does the story of Lulu relate to the story of the KKK statue in your mind? 

Well, a dog probably doesn’t see black or white, or understand discrimination. It’s just a dog, and maybe we all wish we could be that way… it’s hard to be innocent in this world, but a dog doesn’t care, and that’s what’s great about it. 

The natural world can teach us a few lessons, that’s kind of like a running message through time. Human beings, since the first cave paintings, have commented on animals; they are interesting to us, and they represent different things. We study them and try to learn from them. I like what Lulu teaches us about the beliefs of her owner. 

“Took Lulu to Hogan Road where Nathan Forrest’s statue stood/
She didn’t shout she didn’t beg, stood next to Forrest with lifted leg/
Statue covered with paintball pink, now it has a Lulu stink/
Don’t know from white supremacy, just knows a place she likes to pee/” – “Shout Lulu” excerpt

You talk in your record notes about having the perspective of an elder who has seen a lot of changes both in the world at large and in the music business, can you talk about this viewpoint and what you’re trying to say in these songs with regards to that specifically? 

I’m closing in on 50 years doing this, I’m about to turn 70 this year, and so many things have changed. But the music still goes on, and people still make it for the same reasons; they want to express something, they want to tell a story, they want to connect with people… but the changes get harder and harder to adapt to as you get older.

Social media is so important now and it’s something I don’t really interact with at all. I’m lucky that Jan [Fabricius] does all of that, but it just doesn’t really occur to me. I probably won’t ever do it. These days you’re in charge of promoting your shows, because the clubs are kind of cutting corners, and they’re hurting financially, and that’s just the way it is. I’m just watching all of those changes and I’m kind of indifferent to them mostly. I try to keep my head down and just try to make my music.

Being an elder, well we lost two great mandolin elders this week, Bobby Osborne, and Jessie McReynolds. You just realize how much our music helps us define our lives.

Nancy Blake said once, “Ya know, people wonder why we sit around and practice our own material, but it’s kind of the way we define our lives.” I feel like that is true for me. 

But you see these guys going, and it’s the last of the first and second generation going away… and you wonder who else is going away… I go watch Chris Thile and I say, “Take that baton and run with it, I’ll follow up on the rear!” I like to learn new things all the time, but mostly I’m trying to do the best I can in the direction I’ve already established and faithfully follow that.

I love the song “The Anchor,” which is told from the perspective of Walter Cronkite. What made you want to write about him? What does he represent for you?

Well, the way that the news is disseminated today is in a million ways. They shape it to a certain audience, and they shape the news to that, so you get a million different versions of the news. If you get happy with a certain outlet, maybe you don’t notice a lot of things going on… I think the same thing happened back when there were only three news outlet. But they weren’t selling it, they were propped up by other shows. They weren’t really competing for advertising dollars in the same way, mostly the networks realized they had to have a news thing. I was just thinking about that difference. 

Cronkite was the trusted guy and when he made a telecast one night and said, “It looks to me like this Vietnam conflict, we can’t win it.” President Johnson said, “If I’ve lost Cronkite then I’ve lost the nation… I won’t run for president again.” Cronkite had a lot of power, but he was trying to remain neutral. It’s really hard, it’s hard to remain neutral about the news, and if there’s a truth in the news, it’s hard to reach it. 

I’m addicted to the New York Times and I read it every day, so I’m just as much a part of this as anyone. I have my one outlet and I stick to it. 

There are a lot of songs on this album told from a perspective that is not your own, was that intentional? 

Actually, Danny Barnes brought it up to me, he said, “Do you ever write a song that’s not from your own perspective?” It was helpful to aim from that direction, but I think your own perspective kind of comes through regardless. It’s just the reverse of reading a novel and identifying with one of the characters, you kind of bring some of your own personality into it. Sometimes you have to trick yourself into writing songs, and I think trying for a perspective other than your own is one technique that helps.

How have you seen your songwriting or approach to songwriting change throughout your career? 

When I first started writing, I was at sea about what to start writing about, and what’s good and what’s not good. Do you imitate others? Then you get some experience, and you get some good reactions, and you trust yourself more.

One thing that’s kind of more true for me now, in the last 10 years. I realize that in a certain way, I kind of write about the same things over and over, just different versions. Like, I’m always talking about, or trying to get people to see, the bigger picture and include everyone in my world. I used to worry that writing the same songs, [topically], was a problem, that I need to break it apart and start over… but then I realized that everyone I admire has their own thing that they do, and you just get better at it. Maybe you just continue to go deeper…

Thelonious Monk said that the genius is the one who is most like himself.  That’s hard to find. I think maybe I found it and I don’t like it…

Just kidding.

Was there anything important about this record that was different from the way you’ve worked in the past? 

Jan [Fabricius] and I have a cottage industry here, we have a cottage, and an industry. [Laughs] We’ve also been writing songs together. I think one of them is one of the better ones on this release, “She Can’t, He Won’t and They’ll Never.”

We also have a record label… and for the last record and this one, I’ve used artwork that I’ve drawn myself. I showed something I drew to [Danny] Barnes and he told me, “That’s so much better than anybody else could do it.” That kind of inspired me to do more of my own drawings. A lot of this is just continually becoming more and more comfortable with yourself.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHER • AMAZON • MP3

(See our full post on Tim O’Brien’s episode of Basic Folk here.) 

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

Telluride, the Most Beautiful Bluegrass Festival, Turns 50

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Notes: Headline image of Béla Fleck & the Flecktones. Scroll to see a photo gallery.

To mark Planet Bluegrass’s 50th annual Telluride Bluegrass Festival, we asked author and music journalist David Menconi to reflect on its impact – and the vibrant community that’s grown up around this iconic roots music event.)

The circuit of roots music festivals in America has some similarities to the Professional Golf Association. There’s at least one festival as well as one golf tournament pretty much every week of the spring, summer and fall. But a few stand out as special and even career-making – golf’s four major championships, and the handful of prestigious main-event music festivals. North Carolina’s MerleFest is like The Masters, the early-season springtime kickoff each April, while late-season festivals like San Francisco’s Hardly Strictly Bluegrass line up nicely with the British Open.

But there’s no question which music festival stands as the summit of the circuit, and not just because it’s in the mountains of Colorado. That’s the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, which marked its 50-year anniversary with the 2023 edition last weekend, June 15-18. The fact that Telluride has prospered for half a century makes Telluride something like golf’s U.S. Open championship, the big one that everybody wants to be a part of. Telluride’s status is something that the musicians who play it are well aware of.

Del McCoury Band performs Thursday, June 15, at the 50th Annual Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

“Festivals and musical trends come and go, and acoustic music has been through some serious peaks and valleys the last 50 years,” says Chris “Panda” Pandolfi, banjo player for Telluride regulars The Infamous Stringdusters, who were on this year’s lineup. “The one mainstay throughout has been Telluride Bluegrass Festival. When we started out, Telluride was the place to be and the definitive crossroads we aspired to, and it still is. Lasting 50 years is an amazing testament to its importance. Bluegrass is more popular than ever now, and Telluride is a big part of that.”

There are literally hundreds of music festivals spanning every style imaginable nowadays, including massive annual gatherings like Bonnaroo in Tennessee and Coachella in the California desert. But there were just a small handful of festivals when Telluride Bluegrass Festival started up in 1973 in the scenic Colorado mountain town that bears its name. And even though Telluride’s daily capacity of 10,000 fans is significantly smaller than a lot of the other major festivals on the circuit, it has still maintained its prestige status.

A drone shot of the festival grounds of Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

In spite of that smaller size, Telluride does have a few structural advantages that set it apart. One is a picturesque setting of surpassing natural beauty on the western edge of Southwestern Colorado’s San Juan Mountains. For performers as well as attendees, there’s not a better view anywhere than what you see at Telluride.

“The view from the crowd is amazing, but from the stage it’s the most incredible view imaginable as an artist,” says Pandolfi. “It’s this multi-layered inspirational snapshot of some of the best music fans, at the best-run festival, in the most beautiful environment in the world. I think a lot of people have this experience, knowing of Telluride as this iconic festival with an outsized reputation, but it more than lives up to the hype. First time we played there, I remember feeling intimidated because so many heavy-weight players we looked up to were there. But as soon as we got onstage, everything clicked.”

Yasmin Williams performs on Telluride Bluegrass Festival’s main stage – its sole stage.

Another major difference between Telluride and its festival peers is scale, and not just in terms of the size of the crowds. Most festivals cram as many performers onto as many stages as possible, all of them running simultaneously, resulting in sensory overload as well as the fear that you’re missing out on something elsewhere. By contrast, Telluride still has just one stage. Every act gets a solo spotlight at Telluride.

“Every year’s festival lineup is an interesting thing,” says Craig Ferguson, who oversees Telluride Bluegrass Festival under the auspices of Planet Bluegrass. “I’ve always said, just watch and it will book itself, and that’s really true. Our process is unique because we have just the one stage and not a bunch of bands, so everybody in the crowd gets to have the same experience. There’s not 18 different stages, so we can create one festivarian experience that everyone shares. We do the booking one act at a time, and we often wind up with interesting combinations.”

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss perform at Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Indeed, those interesting combinations can venture well beyond what you see at a typical folk or bluegrass festival. Along with Sam Bush, Emmylou Harris, Peter Rowan, Del McCoury and The Infamous Stringdusters doing a Sunday morning gospel set, this year’s lineup features ringers like the West African ngoni master Bassekou Koyate and the venerable jam band String Cheese Incident. Some of the anomalous acts from previous years include pop-star jazz pianist Norah Jones, the comedic folk duo Tenacious D and even singer/rapper/actress Janelle Monae. Even with the unlikely acts, the Telluride experience sells itself. It doesn’t take much convincing to get any artist to play.

“Janelle Monae was the most interesting person to talk to,” Ferguson says. “I snuck into her RV just as she was sitting down to a meal by herself, and I was able to sit and talk to her for an hour. I think she would’ve signed up to play every year if she could have, she was so enthralled by the fact that there were elk in the park. It was the most wonderful conversation, and she was great. We’re famous for our curveballs and she was the oddest, I’ll give you that.”

BGS’s own Ed Helms with Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas at Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Apart from the change-ups, multiple generations of musicians in the world of acoustic music count Telluride among their major artistic, career and personal milestones. One of them is Sarah Jarosz, a four-time Grammy winner who first went to Telluride as a fan at age 14 and played it herself for the first time two years later. Telluride is where Jarosz first connected with idols and future peers like Gillian Welch and Abigail Washburn. It’s also where Gary Paczosa saw Jarosz for the first time at her 2007 Telluride debut. He subsequently signed her to Sugar Hill Records and produced her first four albums.

“It’s the quintessential place to see your heroes, and even get to jam with them,” says Jarosz, who is back on this year’s lineup. “You’ll hear, ‘There’s a jam at this house down the street after the shows.’ So I brought my mandolin and before I knew it, Chris Thile was showing up. Also Jerry Douglas, Tim O’Brien. That was really life-changing, this proximity to heroes that allowed me to become friends with them. And even though Telluride is rooted in bluegrass, they always bring in artists from beyond that world – Janelle Monae, Decemberists, Alison Krauss and Robert Plant. It feels like anything can happen, and the audience that goes is very supportive of that.”

The stalwart House Band of Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Still, no matter how far afield the lineup wanders, Telluride is ultimately rooted in bluegrass.

“Bluegrass is a fable, and a team sport,” says Ferguson. “That informs how we create the lineup. Looking to the future, socially as well as musically, we think of bluegrass as an allegory. It’s a context that is invitational to all these other styles, country or jazz or classical, and it complements all of them. That remains the heart and soul of this festival, surrounding bluegrass with these other complimentary musics. We are fortunate to be of service to the festivarian community. It’s an annual privilege to see how much it brings to people’s lives, the connection to community.”

All photos by Maya Benko, courtesy of IVPR

Top 10 Sitch Sessions of the Past 10 Years

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Since the beginning, BGS has sought to showcase roots music at every level and to preserve the moments throughout its ever-developing history that make this music so special. One of the simplest ways we’ve been able to do just that has been through our Sitch Sessions — working with new and old friends, up-and-coming artists, and legendary performers, filming musical moments in small, intimate spaces, among expansive, breathtaking landscapes, and just about everywhere in between. But always aiming to capture the communion of these shared moments.

In honor of our 10th year, we’ve gathered 10 of our best sessions — viral videos and fan favorites — from the past decade. We hope you’ll enjoy this trip down memory lane!

Greensky Bluegrass – “Burn Them”

Our most popular video of all time, this Telluride, Colorado session with Greensky Bluegrass is an undeniable favorite, and we just had to include it first.

Rodney Crowell and Emmylou Harris – “The Traveling Kind”

What more could you ask for than two old friends and legends of country music reminiscing on travels and songs passed and yet to come, in an intimate space like this? “We’re members of an elite group because we’re still around, we’re still traveling,” Emmylou Harris jokes. To which Rodney Crowell adds with a laugh, “We traveled so far, it became a song.” The flowers were even specifically chosen and arranged “to represent a celestial great-beyond and provide a welcoming otherworldly quality … a resting place for the traveling kind.” Another heartwarming touch for an unforgettable moment.

Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan – “Some Tyrant” 

In the summer of 2014, during the Telluride Bluegrass Festival we had the distinct pleasure of capturing Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan’s perfectly bucolic version of “Some Tyrant” among the aspens. While out on this jaunt into the woods, we also caught a performance of the loveliest ode to summertime from Kristin Andreassen, joined by Aoife and Sarah.

Rhiannon Giddens – “Mal Hombre”

Rhiannon Giddens once again proves that she can sing just about anything she wants to — and really well — with this gorgeously painful and moving version of “Mal Hombre.”

Tim O’Brien – “You Were on My Mind”

Is this our favorite Sitch Session of all time? Probably. Do we dream of having the good fortune of running into Tim O’Brien playing the banjo on a dusty road outside of Telluride like the truck driver in this video? Definitely.

Enjoy one of our most popular Sitch Sessions of all time, featuring O’Brien’s pure, unfiltered magic in a solo performance of an original, modern classic.

Gregory Alan Isakov – “Saint Valentine”

Being lucky in love is great work, if you can find it. But, for the rest of us, it’s a hard row to hoe. For this 2017 Sitch Session at the York Manor in our home base of Los Angeles, Gregory Alan Isakov teamed up with the Ghost Orchestra to perform “Saint Valentine.”

The Earls of Leicester – “The Train That Carried My Girl From Town”

In this rollicking session, the Earls of Leicester gather round some Ear Trumpet Labs mics to bring their traditional flair to a modern audience, and they all seem to be having a helluva time!

Sara and Sean Watkins – “You and Me”

For this Telluride session, Sara and Sean Watkins toted their fiddle and guitar up the mountain to give us a performance of “You and Me” from a gondola flying high above the canyon.

Punch Brothers – “My Oh My / Boll Weevil”

The Punch Brothers — along with Dawes, The Lone Bellow, and Gregory Alan Isakov — headlined the 2015 LA Bluegrass Situation festival at the Greek Theatre (a party all on its own), and in anticipation, the group shared a performance of “My Oh My” into “Boll Weevil” from on top of the Fonda Theatre in Hollywood.

Caitlin Canty feat. Noam Pikelny – “I Want To Be With You Always”

We’ll send you off with this delicate moment. Released on Valentine’s Day, Caitlin Canty and Noam Pikelny offered their tender acoustic rendition of Lefty Frizzell’s 1951 country classic love song, “I Want to Be With You Always.”

Dive into 8 of our favorite underrated Sitch Sessions here.

Chris Thile Considers His Community and Christian Upbringing in ‘Laysongs’ (1 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

For a while, Chris Thile might have been the busiest man in bluegrass. The former public radio host has snagged four Grammy awards and a prestigious MacArthur “Genius Grant,” all the while maintaining his status as a founding member of Punch Brothers, the Goat Rodeo Sessions, and Nickel Creek, collaborating with plenty of other Americana firebrands along the way. But on his latest album, Laysongs, Thile slowed down.

A solo album in the truest sense — it’s just Thile and a mandolin, after all — the album was recorded by engineer Jody Elff at Future-Past, a studio housed in an old church in Hudson, New York. The setting was a perfect match for the religion-influenced album, which ranges from the biblical passages of Thile’s Christian upbringing to mythological ideas about gods and gathering from the Greeks and the Romans. Below, in the first of a two-part interview, BGS caught up with Thile about recording the new album, finding inspiration in memories from his adolescence, and the dearly missed joy of a packed concert hall.

BGS: You recorded this album in a church in upstate New York. What did that atmosphere lend to the album, whether purely sonically to the recording or more generally as inspiration?

Thile: That was such a stroke of luck in a time that felt like it was a little thin on luck overall. [Laughs] We were weathering the earlier stages of the pandemic in Hudson, New York, and someone told me about a church right in the middle of town that had been converted into a studio. I went and checked it out and played a few notes in there and absolutely loved it. It’s not the most awe-inspiring church, but there were stain-glassed windows and very odd paintings that all brought me right back to my childhood.

I never attended a grand, elegant church growing up. This was still a beautiful church, but it was helpful that it wasn’t, y’know, St. Patrick’s in downtown New York — that it had a whole lot of that whole human-beings-just-trying-to-do-the-best-with-what-they-have kind of a vibe. Getting to be there was really helpful in terms of getting into character for the songs that I was recording. So much of the record comes from solitude… Actually, the solitude of the pandemic felt a lot like the solitude of spending one’s adolescence in a church pew.

What do you mean by that?

I spent so much of my adolescent time in church wondering if I was the only person there who was doubting the existence of God, or who couldn’t not think about how attractive the girl two pews over was. “Wait, I’m going to hell now probably, right?” Or, “Wait, is there hell? What is going on?” The pandemic thrust me and a lot of other people that I know back into that sort of lonesome, existential monologue: “Has every single choice I’ve made up to this point been wrong, perhaps?”

The sort of strange dialogue that we have with ourselves late at night started reminding me of those weird dialogues I would have with myself in church. I could well imagine at 16 years old sitting in this pew at Christian Community Church in Kentucky. I could well imagine there was a little angel and devil on my shoulder kind of duking it out. The centerpiece of the record, “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” is very much a grown-up version of that feeling—but you know, also, how grown-up, really? I’m 40 now, and so much of the time, this felt like a rebirth right back into adolescence, smack in the middle of the most awkward period of our lives.

I loved being in that church for all those reasons. It was so easy to put myself in the headspace I was in when I had written the lyrics or when I discovered the power of those songs that I didn’t write that are on the record. It just lent a certain weight to those performances.

Why did it feel like the right time to approach religion specifically here? Was there anything you felt you had to tread carefully around?

If there’s a silver lining of this whole incredibly disorienting and distressing affair, it’s the chance to gain a little context: to have been forced to take a massive step back and to take a look at our lives, whether we wanted to or not. One of the things I saw, in the midst of missing the community that I’d inserted myself into, was that community often ends up acting in ways that are similar to my experience of organized religion.

How so?

A lot of people who grow up with religion and veer away from it at a certain point are veering away from what they — what we — perceive to be a poisonous exclusivity, or habitual exclusionism. I think that’s one of the main turn-offs for my generation on organized religion. You start meeting people who aren’t welcome in the flock, and you start wondering why. Having taken a step back, I see the same kind of exclusionary behavior in my current community. If you take a look at your own community, it’s probably full of people who think a lot like you do, and who feel very similar to the way that you do about whatever’s going on right now, and who live in a very similar way. I worry that we, as human beings, are trading one messed-up thing for another messed-up thing.

I adore community. I love it so, so much. For instance, the Telluride Bluegrass Festival: I feel like those are the high holy days of my acoustic music-making community, and to be deprived of them is so painful. You feel cast adrift, untethered. I can’t wait to get back and I’ll never take that for granted again. But I also want to go back there with my eyes wide open as to whom I have habitually not welcomed into that community. What barriers am I being a part of unknowingly placing between people and that community that I love so much? And what harm is that doing that community?

Tell me about how that harm appears on the record.

There’s a lot in the record about coming together, but there’s also a lot in the record about our compulsive need to compare ourselves favorably to other people. In an effort to feel better about ourselves, we look for someone to feel better than. That’s what “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” is about. I took a look at this thing that had been a big deal for me in my adolescence, The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, and I was wondering: What would those demons be up to with me, right now? They would be preying on this compulsive desire to feel good about myself. One of the easiest, dirtiest ways to feel better about yourself is by looking at someone else and going, “Well, I’m better than that guy.”

In “Laysong,” the lyrics mention “drown[ing] out the enemy.” It made me wonder what it is that you consider the enemy — maybe it’s this comparison trap, maybe not — and how you drown it out.

When I wrote that lyric, the enemy was he or they that would talk loudest regardless of whether they had the best idea. “I’m gonna say whatever I have to say louder than anyone is saying anything else, and therefore it will be all that’s heard, and the discussion will be on my terms.” That felt like the enemy. And at that moment, in that lyric, I had to write it. It fit with the shape of the melody. The idea of drowning out the enemy — I couldn’t shake it, even though it’s not what I believe to be right. [Laughs] Hopefully you can get a sense of that in the performance, that it’s coming from an angry and not altogether balanced place. In that moment, I was pursuing the idea of drowning out the enemy with beauty, with restructuring, with anything, really. Let’s get a love song, let’s get a hard-times song, anything but a song about the front page of the newspaper.

The record starts there and ends with the Hazel Dickens song, “Won’t you come and sing for me.” When I get back into the concert hall, there’s no way I’m not ending my solo set with that song, the performance is going to be sincere—especially at the end of all this solitary music-making. [Laughs] But “Laysong” is very much like an altar call for the record. “Here’s what we’re gonna discuss.” Who knows where we’re gonna come out? I know that when I listen to a record, there’s a collaboration that starts there. I would love to imagine that happens when people listen to my records, too—that it starts a conversation. I can’t wait to feel that in the concert hall. No piece of music is done until you [the audience] hear it. And I am so dearly looking forward to that completion of this little bit of work.

Editor’s Note: Read the second half of the BGS Artist of the Month interview with Chris Thile.

Photos: Josh Goleman

BGS 5+5: Casey Driessen

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Casey Driessen
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest Album: Otherlands:ONE

Editor’s Note: Casey Driessen has released Otherlands: A Global Music Exploration, a self-produced travelogue of on-location recordings, short films and essays that documents collaborations with masters of regional music in Spain, Ireland, Scotland, India, Japan and Finland. Otherlands was filmed and recorded between 2019 and May 2020. During this time, proceeds from the Bandcamp sales of Otherlands:ONE will support music and folk arts rural communities in West Bengal, India.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I’m going to give some big props to fiddler Richard Greene, by way of Darol Anger. Back in the mid-1960s, while playing in Bill Monroe’s band, Richard invented a percussive bowing technique on the fiddle/violin called “chopping.” Darol Anger was the first person to learn this from Richard, and I then pulled parts of the technique from Darol. Chopping has been an essential part of my musical trajectory and has allowed me to fit into all sorts of exciting musical situations.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Two polar opposite ones just appeared in my mind simultaneously… 1) Playing a daytime set at the Telluride Bluegrass festival in a trio with Béla Fleck and Bryan Sutton, staring out at the gorgeous Rocky Mountains, when all of a sudden I hear amazing vocal rhythms joining us, and Bobby McFerrin appears by my side. I couldn’t stop smiling. 2) Playing an evening set with Steve Earle & the Bluegrass Dukes (Tim O’Brien, Darrell Scott, Dennis Crouch) when a heckler starts asking for “Copperhead Road.” It’s in the set, and we’ll get to it, but that’s not good enough. Heckles continue. Steve gives him the finger. A full beer can sails through the air (mind you, we’re all around one mic), hits the stage, bounces and hits Dennis’ bass. A fight breaks out in the audience. The guy is taken away. The next thing thrown on stage is a bra.

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

I’m very visual and find inspiration in painting, drawing, and sculpture. The forms, shapes, patterns, lines, colors, and composition all give me ideas about how to approach my instrument or music.

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

I’ve never written a song, only instrumental compositions. So, I suppose the toughest time is all the time. That said, no particular composition sticks out to me, but the process of applying compositions to a live looping setup (when I was doing my Singularity project) was quite challenging. There are so many parameters to work within, from effects pedal limitations, physical coordination to pressing buttons with your feet while singing and playing, how to create engaging live looped arrangements from song to song without becoming repetitive or boring, and keeping a solo set interesting for yourself. They were some tough puzzles to solve.

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

I think either “A global music exploration in red shoes” or “The fiddle can’t be on everything?…I’d like to try.” I’m hungry for experimentation and inspiration from unlikely sources.

Photo credit: Arthur Driessen

Turning 30, eTown Plans b’Earthday Show and Enters Colorado Music Hall of Fame

Posted on by Editor

The long-running radio series eTown is famous for its finales, but upon reaching its 30th year, the focus is shifting to an upcoming all-star virtual b’Earthday concert on April 22 and the program’s deserving induction into the Colorado Music Hall of Fame. Of course there’s also an eagerness from everybody involved — staff, artists, and audience alike — to get back to staging shows at the beloved eTown Hall, a repurposed church that stands as a centerpiece of Boulder’s cultural community.

Community is key to Nick and Helen Forster, the founders of eTown. Their marriage has proved to be as sustainable as the environmental causes they support, and by never wavering from musical integrity, they have created a destination for musicians and music fans of every stripe. Helen carried a love of theater to eTown following her work with the early years of Telluride Bluegrass Festival. Nick Forster, who found acclaim in the band Hot Rize just before eTown launched, can recall browsing through microfilm in the library to do research for his guest interviews. Now, thanks to the internet, the whole world can feel part of the eTown tribe.

Calling in from Boulder, the Forsters filled in BGS about their ongoing creative venture, the common thread that all eTown artists share, and the warm family feelings behind the scenes.

BGS: What was the musical landscape of Colorado like back 1991?

Nick: In ’91, there were a lot of things that had come into their full power, including Telluride Bluegrass Festival, which is where Helen and I met. There was a pretty vibrant music scene in both Boulder and Denver, but if there was such a thing as the sound of Colorado, it was something around that lineup of the Telluride Bluegrass Festival or RockyGrass or Folks Fest. A loosely defined Americana vibe, with a little bit of a hippie slant. Colorado has always had that progressive, acoustic [feel]. … From John Denver on down, there has been a sense of Colorado being a place where a natural approach to music makes sense.

Helen, what drew you to bluegrass music?

Helen: You know, everything back then in Telluride was so organic that if you didn’t have a radio station, you got together and you started one. The festival started because these guys came back from the Walnut Valley Festival in Winfield, Kansas, and they loved it and said, “Why don’t we do this here?” So they did a Fourth of July celebration and a couple hundred people came. I think there were two or three local bands, and from that it grew into become an actual festival. By the second year of that, a couple of the founders had pulled out and I jumped in to just help, I guess. …

When I first got to Telluride, there were very few places to go, other than the bars. And there were some local bluegrass bands. That’s how I first discovered bluegrass. I was in my early 20s and we’d all jam into these basement bars and listen to the bluegrass. It caught my heart. It’s a beautiful form of music and I was so impressed with the talent and the ability of the players. Not only to play, but to jam. It was almost like jazz, in a sense, and it caught my attention then.

Nick and Helen Forster, 1991. Credit: Laura Lyon

Nick, around this time you had made your mark in Hot Rize, which was the first IBMA Entertainer of the Year back in 1990. So, with your background as a performer, how did you make touring artists feel at home at eTown?

Nick: I was in a unique position being on the road with Hot Rize for years. I had an understanding of what it was like from an artist’s perspective. We’d been lucky enough to play on the Grand Ole Opry, Prairie Home Companion, Austin City Limits, Mountain Stage, and all these shows. I was really enamored with live radio in front of an audience. And when I thought about all the gigs I played with Hot Rize, there were four things that I usually remembered: How was the sound? Was there a decent place to stay? Was the food good? And did the crew have a good attitude?

So, we started with that at eTown, recognizing that we were trying to do two different things. One, we were trying to help these artists basically promote their new records, because everybody who came to eTown was out there with a new record. But we also wanted to have the mission of why we were doing eTown be something they would connect with. And to be inspired by, or at least informed by. So the piece of our show that included conversation about climate change or community or sustainability was another thing that most musicians were really into. Musicians who were traveling have a good world view. A lot of them are avid readers and up to date on world affairs. This was not a giant leap for them to connect with the mission-related part of it.

Tell me about the spirit of collaboration at eTown. What do you like about having more than just the two of you putting a show together?

Helen: It’s interesting, because when I was a little kid, I was doing a lot of theatre. I came from that model that it’s not just the performers; it’s the stage manager, and the props mistress, and the person who manages the set changes. Everybody works together. It’s like a team experience when you do theatre, and having the great crew that we’ve had, I think it’s a great testament to eTown and the model that we created there of being open and [receptive] to our guests. …

That’s what a lot of artists would mention: “My gosh, what a breath of fresh air! We’ve been on the road dealing with disgruntled monitor mixers, then we come here and it just feels like family,” like you’ve been welcomed in. And quite frankly, since we closed the eTown Hall temporarily, now for over a year because of COVID, we all miss each other. Nick organized a Zoom call a couple of months ago so we could catch up and see each other. I know that our crew is really anxious for the hall to re-open so we can all come together again. It’s like a big, extended family.

What are you looking for when it comes to booking artists for eTown?

Nick: We’ve always tried to aim for music that is soulful. That’s music that has integrity, good songwriting, not too many bells and whistles. Not stuff that is overproduced, so you can feel the personality of the songwriter and the singer come through. Our booking philosophy was always, from the very beginning, about featuring some diversity. But for the first 600 or 700 shows that we did at the Boulder Theatre, that’s 800 or 900 seats that we tried to fill. So, sometimes it helped when we had people with name recognition as one of our guests.

We always tried to have one artist with name recognition and one artist that was emerging, and beyond that, maybe one band and one solo. Or one person is playing Americana music, and the other one is playing Celtic or Hawaiian or Afro-Cuban music. The diversity of artists was really important to us, particularly because of our finale. The end of the show was always a joint effort between our musical guests and a lot of times they didn’t know each other. They didn’t have a lot of common ground.

I come from the bluegrass world where, yeah, you’re just going to pick and jam and find a song and play. But particularly for songwriters who have been hiding in their bedrooms writing songs for three years, and then they come out and say, “I don’t know any other songs….” But the finale was always, in some ways, not just an opportunity to have something in real time. It had to be created that day, with those people, under pressure, to find a song, find a key, arrange it, split the words up, and rehearse it, then perform in a few hours later. It was pretty intense! But the other part of it was, eTown’s goal has always been about using music as a way to build community, and to remind people that our community is larger than we might think it is.

Over the last 30 years, music and technology have changed so much. When it comes to eTown, what would you say has remained the same?

Helen: There’s been an agreed goal of maintaining a certain amount of integrity and a certain amount of quality in the ultimate product that we have been putting out all these years, which is the radio broadcast and now podcast. Whether it’s the technical sound end of it, all the way to the content itself. I think that’s what’s kept it going as long as it has. There is this underlying devotion and striving toward excellence.

Lead photo of Nick and Helen Forster by Tim Reese