WATCH: Jason Isbell Performs “Only Children” From His Tennessee Barn

Jason Isbell dropped by The Daily Show with Trevor Noah (temporarily known as the Daily Social Distancing Show) earlier this month and in a delightful interview, Noah inquired about many things, including how Isbell’s life personally has changed and how the impact of COVID-19 is being felt in the music industry.

Speaking eloquently as only he can, Isbell set the stage for his just-released record, Reunions. “The person that I used to be,” he says in the interview, “I looked back on him with a lot of judgment and a lot of disdain. … Finally, in the last couple years, for whatever reason, I felt comfortable looking back. … [Memories] came back to me in a way that I’m more equipped now to write about than I was.” 

Isbell is then joined by Amanda Shires to perform “Only Children” from their barn in Tennessee. Take a look.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Josh Ritter: The Weird, Dark Rhythm of ‘Fever Breaks’ (Part 2 of 2)

When it came time to record his new album, Josh Ritter hired not only Jason Isbell to produce it, but Isbell’s band to play on the sessions. Because they had built a sturdy friendship while touring together, the resulting album, Fever Breaks, offers a familiarity that should appeal to fans of both artists. Longtime listeners may recognize that Ritter is more political than on his past albums – and that’s not a coincidence.

Leading up to a TV taping inside a cave in Tennessee, Ritter invited the Bluegrass Situation into his dressing room for a visit. (Read the first part of our interview.)

BGS: I caught a reference to “a fever broke” in the song “Losing Battles,” which I assume led to the album title. Why did Fever Breaks seem to fit as a title for this project?

Ritter: I love coming up with titles for the record. That’s one of my favorite things, because it’s a chance to look at the record you made from 30,000 feet and say, ‘What is it that sums this record up?’ With this one, it came to me in a dream. I just woke up with it, and I thought, ‘Fever breaks…’ I don’t know exactly what it means, but I thought with this project, so much of the writing was guided by instinct, and I felt like it was important for that dreaminess to come in.

It really feels, in a certain way, like a comforting thing – even though I feel like the record is not comforting. It’s a reminder that fever will break, and that’s as close as I can come, because the period that we’re living in feels so overheated and so full of chaos, that it has to be a sickness.

What’s your response if someone hears this and says, “Oh, Josh made a political album.”

I would say I would be thrilled! I think it’s important, right now. I don’t know how you could make music, or anything, that doesn’t have this time wrapped up in it. Like some kind of weird, dark rhythm. It’s just everywhere in the whole tapestry of things, and how do you speak about anything in our lives without referencing this period of time?

One of the great things about making records over a period of time is that they feel like little vials of perfume from that moment, you know? You open it up and you remember. I remember where I was when I was making The Animal Years, and for me, this record will always be wrapped up with this strange, dark moment, and I have to express that on the record. And if it comes across as political, that’s great. I hope that it doesn’t come across as anything else.

So much of someone’s success in the music business comes down to who you surround yourself with. Why was it important for you to bring Jason and Amanda [Shires] to this project?

I think for a long time, I lived on an artistic island that was self-imposed. Just from being busy all the time and touring all the time, I started to realize that my circle of friends – while very tight and incredibly close-knit – was very small. And around this time, I went on the road with Jason and Amanda and the 400 Unit, and I got a chance to see that there are other families on the road, and there are other people touring with their families.

I felt a sense of connection through shared choices, artistically and just how he was choosing to life his life. There was a kinship that I felt was artistic and personal. So when I identified that I wanted to work with somebody, like a peer, he jumped into my head. I sent him a note and I was really so surprised and happy when he was into it, and when we could schedule the time to do it, which was an impressive feat.

How long was the email you sent?

Just a few sentences. And my initial idea was that he would produce, but that I would bring people to play. So I was really excited and nervous when he suggested the 400 Unit because they’re amazing players and I didn’t know what it would be like to not play with my band. So I had frank conversations with everybody in my band. I was overwhelmed that they were so supportive of me going to do this crazy thing.

I think it’s just so cool that you can play music with people for so much of your life, and work so hard on things, and then they understand that I’m going to go off and try this thing and take this chance. Because I feel so close to them, it’s really important for me. So once I talked to the band, I embraced the whole philosophy of going in and realizing that I wasn’t going to know anybody very well.

You’ve worked with some legendary figures like Joan Baez and Bob Weir. They’re in their 70s, still creating music. Do you see a similar trajectory for yourself?

I hope so! The main goal is that your mind doesn’t get smaller as you work, and that your neurons are always branching out. … I learned so much from working with Bob and Joan. What brought me into this world of working with Jason was that I had to learn how to collaborate, and listen to how my portion could fit and work with somebody else’s artistic vision. It was super cool to work with them and learn that.

You have to trust yourself in that situation, too.

Yeah, and trust that what you’re bringing is worthwhile, and trust that what they’re bringing also has its own [value], and these things are going to intermesh in ways that you can’t expect. That’s just amazing! You get so few opportunities for those unexpected, great musical moments that you just cherish.

When I was looking back on your discography, I realized that this is the 20th anniversary of your first record. What do you remember about making that decision to go into music full-time?

Well, my parents are both scientists, so I grew up around an academic structure in my family. I saw how it worked when you went to college, and then went to graduate school. So I approached making a career in that way. I said I’m going to need everybody to trust me for four years, and we’ll see if it can happen. I remember I quit my last temp job in 2004 and I realized I had no Plan B of course. I wasn’t particularly good at anything. What I loved was songs and it was all I could spend my time thinking about. I remember the first time getting money out of an ATM to buy gas and go on my first gig – and what an exciting moment that was. I didn’t realize it at the time the same way I do now. It was so exciting!

You’ve built an international audience since that time. Was it always a goal for you to be a world traveler?

I think so, yeah. I think I got into it for the traveling. A lot of people get into it for the traveling. I have found that music takes you to the most incredible places, but also it takes you to some places that are incredibly mundane as well, you know? They can’t all be caves in Tennessee, but that’s fantastic for that reason.


Photo of Josh Ritter: David McClister
Illustration: Zachary Johnson

Josh Ritter: Smiling Across a Microphone (Part 1 of 2)

Josh Ritter is the kind of guy who will give you a hug even when you’ve never met him. It’s that warmth and sincerity that has allowed him to build a significant fan base across the US and abroad, not to mention his undeniable enthusiasm for performance. He’s currently on tour with a new album, Fever Breaks, which he recorded in Nashville with Jason Isbell in the producer’s role – along with fiddler-vocalist Amanda Shires and Isbell’s band, The 400 Unit, in the studio.

During a spring tour stop at a cave in Tennessee, Ritter chatted with the Bluegrass Situation about playing these songs for the first time, taking chances, and getting Josh Ritter-y with it. (Read part two of our interview.)

BGS: This album starts with “The Ground Don’t Want Me” and that character’s a bad dude. What led you to kick off the album with that song?

Ritter: For some reason, a lot of this record was totally guided by instinct. Some of those artistic choices felt like there was sort of a still small voice that told me that was the way to start. In fact, “Ground Don’t Want Me” was the first song that we recorded, and the first song that I played for Jason and Amanda when I went down to visit them and was playing through the stuff. So it was kind of the song that was on the tip of my tongue.

When you were playing those songs for Jason and Amanda, were you playing a demo? Or were you saying, ‘Here’s a song I wrote….’ and then sang it?

That’s how I did it, yeah. With my last couple records, I really went in deep with the demos and fleshed them out more on my own. With this one, it felt like the songs were a little more spry and just they needed to be strummed through.

So, they were probably your first audience on some of these songs.

Yeah, totally.

Was that intimidating for you?

No, because that’s one of the moments that I live for. I love the moment when somebody plays a new song for the first time. I think it’s an amazing moment that you can’t ever return to. You can only recreate it. It’s like that moment of ripping a sheet off a statue. That’s how I always think of it — that moment where you can show what you’ve been doing. Playing for them, I was hoping that there would be something in there that they would gravitate towards.

“I Still Love You Now and Then” is a beautiful song and it’s bittersweet, too. What do you hope people will hear in that song?

It’s a song that’s written from a different point of view, in terms of age, you know? I think there’s a time to sing about first love and there’s a time to sing about enduring love. And enduring love can be enduring for all kinds of things! [Laughs] By the time you’re 42, you realize the sort of loves that endure and “I Still Love You Now and Then” is exploring a character who has those kinds of feelings.

I related to it because somebody told me once that there are people in your life that you can never get past. Do you find that experience true for you, too?

Yeah, I find that experience true in so many things. Whether it’s the first book that you read that you really loved and that brought you home, or the first beer you ever had. Those first moments, those are great, and I think one of the reasons that playing music is so fun is that you can be part of that experience. It’s a moment in time that you can’t exchange for anything else.

“On the Water” captures that feeling when you are in love, and when things are going right, and someone loves you back. What was on your mind when you wrote that?

That was a song that I really worked a long time crafting. I started off with an idea in my head and I wanted a new way to say “a leap of faith,” and even a short walk on the water is pretty far. I wanted the song to be about hoping somebody makes a choice, and I worked on it and worked on it… There were a bunch of lines in there that I really loved and I brought it down to play for Jason and Amanda, and they said, ‘This is great, you can go farther here.”

I was like, “OK… I don’t know if this song is anything.” They said, “No, go here in this middle section and get way more Josh Ritter-y with it.” [Laughs] I said, “OK, I can do that!” They forced me to work harder on the song, and that was one of those songs that developed out of constant playing and knowing there was something in there. Once we got into the studio it was clear that it fit the rest of the record.

You must have a pretty good friendship with them, for them to give you such candid feedback and say, “It’s not ready yet.”

It’s what I wanted, you know? It’s what I really craved, and what I hoped for in this situation is that I wanted to make a record in a different situation, with a different lineup of people than I’ve ever worked with. I just really needed that, but working with them was great because I got a chance to work with people who were behind the same microphone, you know? Lyrically they really pushed me to push the songs farther. I took them to different spots than I would have.

Can you tell me more about that need to work that way?

Well, the need is what you really grasp hold of as time goes by. Because you want to stay hungry and you want to be hungry all the time. And you have to take chances, you have to pin what you do to things that might fail. You know what I mean? So, doing that stuff is important because all the nerves — all those fluttery nerves and that weird instinct – was really kicked in to high alert. I really think it’s important to respond to the nervousness that is proactive, especially with art. In the end, it’s just art. It should be fun and it should be exciting, and if it didn’t work, then you tried something. And in this case I took all that advice from them and really embraced it as part of the process for this record.

I’ve read and listened to a lot of interviews with you, and the word “fun” comes up a lot. It seems pretty central to your artistic vision – to have fun while you’re doing this.

Yeah, I don’t like to get into situations where the art gets wrapped up with being something that’s torturous. I appreciate that as part of the story of making a record — like when I got divorced, I had to make a record about that just because I felt like I had to. And that wasn’t the most fun, you know, but in general, making records is a fun thing. You enjoy it and you get a chance to hang out with your friends and make music and have a celebration for a while. I think that that comes across. You can always hear when somebody is smiling across a microphone.


Illustration: Zachary Johnson

Artist of the Month: Josh Ritter

Our June Artist of the Month is Josh Ritter, whose songwriting ambition has led him to stages around the world. It’s been 20 years since he first set out as a solo artist with a self-titled debut album, first performing in local clubs, then securing international gigs in Ireland and beyond. Now he’s touring behind his brand new album, Fever Breaks. As one surveys his catalog, it’s easy to put Fever Breaks alongside 2006’s Animal Years and find some comparisons between the topical songwriting, the cover illustrations, and the passion he brings to both.

Ritter opted to enlist Jason Isbell as a producer on Fever Breaks and even used Isbell’s band, The 400 Unit. It proved to be an interesting move, especially given that Amanda Shires happens to be a huge fan. Working as… well, a unit, the ensemble captured something special in these Nashville sessions — a vibe that Ritter is carrying out on the road with his own Royal City Band. Throughout the month BGS will be featuring music from throughout Ritter’s career, as well as a two-part interview conducted before a spring concert in Tennessee.

For now, as we anticipate the month ahead, spend some time with a collection of some of our Artist of the Month’s best work in our new Essential Josh Ritter playlist on Spotify.


Illustration: Zachary Johnson

Hannah Wicklund & the Steppin Stones, ‘Shadowboxes and Porcelain Faces’

Any given day of the week, one person or another will try to convince us all that rock ‘n’ roll is dead — that synths have replaced guitars for good and children are growing up more interested in clicking “like” on Facebook than they are clicking a set of distortion pedals. Believe what you want, but there are still generations of kids coming of age fascinated with rock ‘n’ roll and the power of a good riff, and Hannah Wicklund was one of them. There’s no real way to describe her music other than pure, unabashed rock, informed by blues and soul but screamingly ready for dark clubs, ready to get sweaty and solo the night away. Produced by Sadler Vaden, singer/songwriter and guitarist in Jason Isbell’s 400 Unit, Wicklund captures a restless spirit that no computer-generated sound could ever replicate on her self-titled LP.

Here’s the thing, though: This isn’t a rock ‘n’ roll publication. We’re in the business of roots, but our best rock stars have always had a golden touch when it comes to slower, folksier moments — think Led Zeppelin’s masterful “Going to California.” Wicklund, being the ambassador of the genre that she is, has her own similar moment, the gorgeous “Shadowboxes and Porcelain Faces.” To some solemn, thoughtful guitar, Wicklund ponders a world where beauty is only skin deep and connectivity between one another is quickly fading, despite being more technologically connected than ever. “These highlight reels ain’t real life; they’re just for show,” she sings. She’s right: It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s fake. But when it comes to rock ‘n’ roll, Wicklund’s the truth incarnate.

The 400 Unit: Gets Ready to Rock

Before there’s sound, lights, or friendly stage banter, there’s stage wear setting the tone for the performance. Whether it’s sporting jeans and a tee or showing up dressed to the nines night after night, what a musician chooses to wear on stage says a thing or two about themselves and mood of the night.

I have an appreciation for everything from the understated and functional to the over-the-top wardrobe decisions of an artist/band. One band that always delivers an unforgettable performance while looking handsome as hell is the 400 Unit. I caught up with the guys earlier this month during their impressive six-night run backing Jason Isbell at Nashville’s beloved Ryman Auditorium and got a behind-the-scenes experience of their rituals and wardrobe choices. 

“No one ever gave me any advice on stage wear. I’ve been touring since I was 18 years old, so I pretty much learned as I went. I think it’s important to dress how you feel and, also, if you like a vintage look, don’t go too far; still try to remain in the current time you’re living in, as best you can.” — Sadler Vaden, guitar

Clothing Superstitions 
I like to have my coin necklace that belonged to my mother, who is deceased. I feel a sense of comfort and a relaxing energy when I wear it.

Pre-show Ritual
Lately, my pre-show ritual has been getting the guitar out and singing any song while Jimbo sings the high harmony.

Stage Wear Essential
I find that a good pair of black Levi’s jeans are essential for any rocker. You can make those work in any situation you’re in, if you need to look sharp or casual

Never leave for tour without … one good pair of comfortable socks.

“When I was 19 or so, and playing in a couple of different working bands in college, one of my gigs was in a blues band. For every other gig I did, it was pretty much anything goes, as they were college bands playing whatever was popular at the time. But my blues gig was always way more serious and professional. It was then that I realized that fashion had a place in what I was doing. Playing blues festivals and juke joints around the South put me around a culture of musicians who dressed their best, no matter what the gig. Admittedly, I don’t always go full-on dapper, but when I do …” — Chad Gamble, drums

Clothing Superstitions
As a drummer, I tend to stay away from things like long sleeves, coats, and slick boots. Plenty of drummers are able to pull those things off, but it only increases the possibility of disaster for me. Sticks getting caught in shirt cuffs and feet sliding around pedals are true wardrobe malfunctions. 

Pre-show Ritual
I pace. Endlessly. 

Stage Wear Essential
I wear hats when I play. I’m not vain enough to think that it makes me look better, but the truth is, I have the propensity to sweat when I play … a lot. If I were in Dire Straits or something, I might wear a sweat band, but hats serve that purpose well enough for me and look better, in my opinion. 

Never leave for tour without … Downy Wrinkle Release. 

“I don’t remember anyone giving me any particular advice about how to dress for the stage, but it was during my time in Son Volt that I figured things out for myself. That was my first professional gig and it was the first time I wasn’t begging my friends to come see me play because there was an audience already there for that band. A lot of them were paying good money for tickets and for a ‘show.’ Suddenly, you’re not just a musician; you’re a performer.” — Derry deBorja, keys and accordion

Clothing Superstitions
I used to wear a tie the night a show sold out. It was mustard yellow and probably lost somewhere in my closet. No real superstition behind it. It became a kind of game. Made it easier to decide what to wear on some given nights.

Pre-show Ritual
I go to the bathroom a lot. I drink a lot of water.

Stage Wear Essential
Combat boots are my new essential. You can wear them anywhere with pretty much anything, both on and off the stage. Very handy for touring as it makes for a lighter suitcase.

Never leave for tour without … either a camera, an audio recorder, or a pen and paper. Also, never leave for tour without cleaning up your place before you leave. Trust me.

“I can’t recall anyone specifically giving any advice on stage wear. I’d always heard that Hank Williams once said that, if you’re gonna stand in front of an audience to entertain them, you have to dress better than them. That piece of advice gets more expensive every year!” — Jimbo Hart, bass

Clothing Superstitions
I once had a fedora that I acquired while on the road with a band that didn’t end well, and I held on to that fedora … until I started almost having automotive incidents every single time I wore it. I started to believe that it was cursed, somehow. Derry and I had to go to St. Louis one time to get some of his gear, and I told him about the hat the morning we were leaving. He called me crazy and then we got in the van to leave and, sure enough, we almost got hit head-on. I tossed that fedora out the window somewhere on I-55 and, thankfully, no more near-collisions.

Pre-show Ritual
Besides making sure all pockets are empty, save a few picks, the only pre-show ritual that seems to happen every single night is me asking Derry if my clothes are okay. He always shoots me straight.

Stage Wear Essential
I wear a lot of hats. I call them essential because they cover up my lack of good hair. Also, I have a thin, aluminum bracelet that a friend gave me with ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ inscribed on it that I wear all the time (on and off stage) to remind me of where I’m from and the people who made me who I am.

Never leave for tour without … at least one awesome pair of boots. They always work with jeans, and you never know when you’ll actually need their functionality. It’s more often than one might imagine.