Tag: the Band

MIXTAPE: Will Holshouser on the Accordion in Country, Bluegrass, and Roots Music

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The accordion is like a cousin you don’t see very often, but who is an integral, colorful member of the family. In country, folk, bluegrass and related roots music from the U.S., the accordion has always been there, more of a presence than you might think. It’s central to styles such as zydeco, Cajun, and conjunto music, but also many foundational bluegrass and country artists – such as Bill Monroe and the Carter Family – used accordion in their music at times. The accordion was in the environment, part of the sound world of mid-20th-century popular music, adding a special touch to bands of all kinds. Although it did not continue to flourish as a central bluegrass or country instrument, there’s no musical reason for that absence: it fits right into the sound. Whether playing rhythm or lead, it can be versatile, punchy, and expressive.

If country music is our unifying theme here, the accordion makes a great lens for viewing the vast diversity of the genre and its extensive family tree: Tejano-conjunto accordion playing, with its polka and Spanish origins and its two-beat and waltz rhythms, is a natural fit with country; zydeco and Cajun music overlap with it seamlessly; Western Swing bands, which merged jazz and country, often included accordionists from the Midwest with Central or Eastern European backgrounds. Of course, the impact of African American blues, swing, and jazz is so strong in all these styles that it’s more than just an “influence” – really a foundation. Jewish klezmer music is also a branch of the “roots music” tree; it came from Europe and developed in the U.S., absorbing many of the same influences as the other genres while making great use of the accordion. – Will Holshouser

“Together Again” – Steve Jordan

The incredible Esteban “Steve” Jordan grew up playing conjunto music in Texas and expanded his repertoire to include country, Latin music, rock, zydeco and more. He was known as “El Parche” for the patch he wore over his blind eye and also as the “Jimi Hendrix of the accordion,” since he played through an effects pedal (flanger or phaser). On his version of this Buck Owens tune, he plays many roles brilliantly: lead vocals, accordion solo, fills and accompaniment.

“J’ai Eté-Z-Au Bal” – Steve Riley & the Mamou Playboys

Steve Riley is one of the finest Cajun accordionists working today; this blistering version of a classic Cajun tune (“I Went to the Dance”) shows his virtuosity, the Cajun (diatonic) accordion in a lead role, and his band’s deep groove.

“Tennessee Waltz” – Pee Wee King & His Golden West Cowboys

Pee Wee King was born Julius Frank Anthony Kuczynski to a Polish-American family in Wisconsin. He learned accordion from his father, who played in a polka band, and went on to become a famous Western Swing bandleader and write the music for this country classic. His beautiful, single-reed accordion fills and moving thirds sound totally country, while revealing a Slavic touch.

“Blues de Basile” – Amédé Ardoin

Amédé Ardoin made some of the very first accordion records in Louisiana and is a common musical ancestor of all zydeco and Cajun accordion playing. His innovative, rhythmic, virtuosic accordion style and haunting vocals won him a great reputation both inside and outside his Afro-Creole community. He often played dances and made records with his close musical partner, Cajun fiddler Dennis McGee, including “Blues de Basile” in 1930. His life ended tragically when he was beaten by white vigilantes.

“Hard to Love Someone” – Clifton Chenier

Known as the King of the Bayous, Chenier brought together southwestern Louisiana zydeco rhythms and Delta blues. On this slow blues tune recorded in 1970, his fluid improvising and support of his own singing is nothing short of glorious. His brother Cleveland Chenier plays the rubboard.

“Bluegrass Special” – Bill Monroe (with Sally Ann Forrester)

Most people know that Bill Monroe defined the classic bluegrass sound. Some may not know that an early version of his band, The Blue Grass Boys, included a Blue Grass Girl, Wilene “Sally Ann” Forrester, on accordion. Her solid rhythm playing and all-too-short accordion break add warmth to this early instrumental, a 12-bar blues. If things had worked out just a little differently, maybe every bluegrass band today would include an accordion! (Hey, it’s not too late, folks.)

“Root, Hog or Die” – Mother Maybelle & The Carter Sisters (with Helen Carter)

Later in her life, Mother Maybelle Carter of the iconic Carter Family had a long performing career with her daughters. The group featured Helen Carter playing great accordion and often Chet Atkins on guitar. Here, too, the influence of swing and blues is readily apparent. “Root, hog, or die” is an old expression that means “you’re on your own.”

“Alon Kouri Laba” – Corey Ledet Zydeco

Corey Ledet, one of today’s most exciting zydeco accordionists, plays beautifully and sings in Louisiana Creole on this high-energy tune from his album Médikamen (2023).

“American Without Tears” – Elvis Costello (with Jo-El Sonnier)

Accordionist Jo-El Sonnier brings his sensitive touch and gorgeous Cajun waltz style to this song from Elvis Costello’s album King of America. (Rock producers and engineers, please take note: this is where an accordion should be in the mix – loud enough that it can breathe dynamically and find its place among the other instruments.)

“Shouting Song” – Will Holshouser

Here’s a tune from my new album, The Lone Wild Bird. I wrote “Shouting Song” with the sound of shape note singing in mind. This is a choral tradition in the rural U.S., mostly in the South, with a unique sound: shape note composers ignored (or just didn’t know about) many European harmonic rules which disallowed features like parallel fifths and chords with only two notes. Along with influences from various folk traditions and camp meeting spirituals, that stark approach to harmony gives the style its sound, which I use here as a point of departure.

“Un Mojado Sin Licensia” – Flaco Jimenez

The creative genius of the great Flaco Jimenez is on full display in this conjunto song about the hardships faced by a Mexican immigrant in Texas. His rhythmic drive, melodic inventiveness, and roller-coaster chromatic runs are thrilling to the ears.

“Streets of Bakersfield” – Dwight Yoakam (with Flaco Jimenez)

Here’s Flaco again, on a recording that went to the top of the country charts in 1988. This song was written by Homer Joy, first recorded by Buck Owens in 1972, and re-done here by Dwight Yoakam with both Buck and Flaco as guest stars.

“Spadella” – Spade Cooley (with Pedro DePaul)

Accordionist and arranger Larry “Pedro” DePaul grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, where he studied music at the Hungarian Conservatory. Spade Cooley, originally from Oklahoma, was a popular Western Swing bandleader in the LA area. There’s a grisly tale behind this tune: Cooley wrote it for his wife Ella, who he was convicted of murdering in 1961.

“Second Avenue Square Dance” – Dave Tarras with the Abe Ellstein Orchestra

Any discussion of the accordion in American roots music should include klezmer, Eastern European Jewish music that came to the U.S. and absorbed influences such as the drum kit, certain jazz band formats, etc. On this tune the great clarinetist Dave Tarras plays the lead, but the anonymous accordionist is heard prominently, playing beautiful fills and rhythm, harmonizing with the melody, and using rich chords to blend with the horns. Second Avenue in Manhattan was the epicenter of the Yiddish theater scene, which had a huge impact on Broadway. The title could be just a lark, or a nod to the musical kinship between klezmer and country music!

“Atlantic City” – The Band (with Garth Hudson)

Garth Hudson’s adventurous playing with The Band carved out a role for the accordion in that kind of rock music. (He also played the horizontal keyboards: organ, etc.) I had the thrill of meeting him when we both played on Martha Wainwright’s live Edith Piaf tribute album (Sans Fusils, Ni Souliers à Paris). Unfortunately, the producers had us playing on different tunes, not at the same time! On this cover of a Bruce Springsteen song, recorded in 1993, Garth creates a fantasy using multi-tracked layers of accordion and organ.

Photo Credit: Erika Kapin

BGS 5+5: Amy Irving

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Amy Irving
Hometown: San Francisco, California
Latest Album: Always Will Be (out April 25, 2025)

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

I’ve been an actor all my life. I began on this new path, making music with the band GOOLIS, a few years back. And I’ve been learning so much from them, especially our band leader Jules David Bartkowski.

I remember going into the studio to record our sophomore album, Always Will Be, and Jules suggested I improvise some. Well, let me tell you, as an actress, I had been traumatized in acting school improv class. I was never comfortable acting without a script. I’ve always considered my gift was in interpreting playwrights’ words. So, when I sang, I followed the notes exactly. But Jules and Aaron, our keyboardist, insisted that I try. I complained my mistakes would be so loud and they replied, “Oh yeah, Amy, we never make mistakes here.” Okay, I got it. I did it. And now you can’t keep me down on the farm.

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

Before every show, after sound check, I retreat to my dressing room, to meditate and rest my voice. It’s a time to conserve my energy. I eat some protein that will not talk to me on the stage. Half a beta blocker keeps my hands from shaking. I do a vocal warmup, either alone with a taped class or over FaceTime with my wonderful vocal coach, Celeste Simone. Gabriel Barreto, my son and manager and record producer and photographer, then digs his elbows into my tight shoulders. When it’s five minutes to showtime, I usually run to the bathroom and have to throw up (yes, I get terrible stage fright), knock back a shot of tequila, then Jules leads us all in an exercise of shaking all the tension from each part of our bodies.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

Working with bandleader Jules is a thrill, because our music covers so many genres, once he decides on his arrangements. He has taken the songs of Willie Nelson and transformed them from punk rock to samba.

Broadly speaking, Jules was going for a kind of golden age of mid- to late-century global pop/rock approach. To offer a more specific example: the first song of the record Always Will Be, “Dream Come True,” was, for Jules, an attempt to channel 1960s Italian rock acts like Mina and Adriano Celentano, while throwing in some Vegas-style late Elvis maximalism and some doo-wop baritone sax. On the song “Getting Over You,” he was trying to find an intersection between The Clash and The Supremes. On “Everywhere I Go” he was trying to mix the Mexican influence of the original with the connected worlds of Klezmer and Balkan music and 1970s Ethiopian jazz.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’d like to eat foie gras and fig jam on a baguette with a glass of pinot noir while Édith Piaf sings to me “Non, je ne regrette rien.”

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

I think anything goes. I remember a long time ago when Wolfgang Puck first opened Spagos on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, I was appalled to see “Jewish Pizza” on the menu. Well, it was smoked salmon and cream cheese pizza and I’m here to tell you it was delicious!

Photo Credit: Gabriel Barreto

Amy Helm: Letters to Women and the Legacy of The Barn

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Amy Helm has had one of the most fascinating lives that any person can have. As you might have guessed from her famous last name, she comes from roots music royalty. Amy is the daughter of Levon Helm, the beloved late drummer for the incredible groundbreaking Canadian-American group The Band. She also continues to run The Barn, a music venue and recording studio built by her dad and Garth Hudson, which served as Levon Helm Studios.

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In her own career, she has created a new lineage of musical tradition, family, great songwriting, poetry, and a feminine power that emanates off of her. We’re talking about her new album, Silver City, but we’re also talking about songwriting. We’re talking about grief. We’re talking about single parenthood. We’re talking about family. We’re talking about being on the road. We’re talking about how our bodies change over time and how that changes us as a vocalist and as an artist.

Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

The Cactus Blossoms’ Modern-Classic Sound Blooms on New Album

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With a sound that’s like rain in the desert for fans of early rock and country, the Cactus Blossoms let their modern-classic vibe bloom on their latest album, Every Time I Think About You. But with pair of big shows to help celebrate the launch, this band is living very much in the present tense.

Made up of Minneapolis-based brothers Jack Torrey and Page Burkum, the duo’s new project arrives August 30 and once again captures the full, timeless magic of spacious melodies, tasteful twang, and tightly-wound harmony. That night, they’ll mark the release with a long-overdue debut at the Grand Ole Opry – where they ought to find a few like-minded fans of keeping music’s traditional cool factors alive – and then head home for a milestone gig in St. Paul.

After a trio of well-received albums and more than 10 years of riveting shows, it’s the perfect setup for a duo who seem totally at ease blurring the American roots timeline – and who promise they couldn’t fake it if they weren’t.

“I don’t think we’re very good at striving,” Torrey says, speaking from the verdant midsummer shores of Lake Superior on a much-needed break from the road. “I do think [this record] has a comfort level, especially since we’ve been able to start touring again, and really hit it. It’s been feeling like we’re a unit and we can kind of read each other’s minds a little bit.”

Speaking with BGS ahead of the release of Every Time I Think About You, Torrey and Burkum filled us in on what that telepathic bond helped create, and where it’s coming from.

A lot of Every Time I Think About You features the “modern-classic” sound you have both made a calling card – like it would sound fresh a few decades ago and today as well. But is that dangerous territory for a band? You don’t want to be pigeonholed as a throwback, right? So how do you walk the tightrope?

Jack Torrey: I think there’s an interesting aspect of that from our perspective. I got super into Bob Dylan and Hank Williams and I was singing songs by both of those guys way back, 18 years ago or whatever. Page was into Jimmie Rodgers and those other super old country things. We start singing together and it’s like if you harmonize on a Hank Williams song, it kind of starts to sound like an Everly Brothers song. You’re kind of accidentally falling into that and getting into territory that people went into 60 years ago – but it’s new for us and I think that has kind of kept happening. We’re not recreating or trying to do anything like listening to records and imitating it. It’s almost like we’re carving our own mini canyon, that resembles some of the other ones from the past.

Page Burkum: I was kind of thinking about this as a way of summing up our style and influences: The Band, The Traveling Wilburys. Those are like my four main food groups or something. I love where all those guys are coming from – a little Roy Orbison, a little Bob Dylan. They balance each other nicely. And I was thinking, when that’s your diet, you’re going to make something that comes out [like Every Time I Think About You]. … But we love other totally different kinds of music outside of that realm too, and I hope a little bit of that gets in there, too.

Where is the title track, “Every Time I Think About You,” coming from? It’s got that lovely, warm-and-fuzzy feel of a mid-century romance ballad to it, but maybe something more, too …

JT: That one is kind of a love song to losing a friend – it’s kind of a heartwarming grief, where you’re almost being consoled by the memory of someone. And that’s where that song came from. The way we wrote it, I just had a couple lines, and then Page jumped in and started singing the beginning of the chorus, and then I sang back the next line, “Every time I think about you …”

PB: Sometimes Jack and I have made fun of biopic movie scenes like in Walk the Line, where it’s like Johnny and June or whoever sit down with a guitar and they’re just writing a song in real time. Like, they sing one line and then pause dramatically, and then sing another line and then it cuts to them playing it for a thousand people or something. But in a funny way, that was kind of the closest to that. [Laughs]

JT: I was like, “I didn’t ask you to jump in and work on my song … but that’s pretty good idea. Let’s do it.”

The album kicks off with “Something’s Got a Hold On Me” – which almost has a Southern rock swagger to it. Where does that come from? Is that your Tom Petty influence showing?

PB: When I first had the idea for that one, the very original idea that set it off was actually a weird little piece of a Jimmie Rodgers song. So, I stole that line and that melody, which is about two notes or something, but it kind of inspired the whole song in a weird way. To me there’s some blend of Lead Belly and The Beatles or something in my mind, but then it ends up just sounding like a country-rock two step. That’s just what happens. It’s fun to roll with stuff. … I threw in another Jimmie Rodgers line, that “T for Texas, T for Tennessee,” to kind of keep that tribute going.

Oh that’s right, I should have known. Why did you end up finishing on “Out of My Mind (On Sunday)”? Is there a reason that seemed to wrap things up?

JT: It wasn’t a big dramatic decision, but it seemed like a nice bookend from “Something’s Got a Hold on Me” to end with being a bit of a crazy person. [Laughs]

PB: To me it actually kind of leaves the door wide open. I don’t know if you want to cap things off with the sweetest, most-concise thing you have, you know? There’s something about it that’s a little bit out there to me.

You’ll make your Grand Ole Opry debut the night this album drops. Then you’re having a big hometown party with show at Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul [on September 13]. What does that mean to you?

PB: We’ve got one of our favorite local bands, Humbird, joining us for that [St. Paul] show, so that’ll be really cool. We’re trying to get some of our collaborators to be involved too, if we can spice it up with an extra ensemble beyond our regular band. So we’re trying to get a piano on stage or something. I mean, it’s a theater show, so it’s a little different. And it’s our first time playing our own show at this theater. It’s a really beautiful building and I never thought I’d play there when I was a kid.

JT: It’s where [A] Prairie Home Companion used to be back in the day. Page and I actually played there when we were first getting started, which was a special time. So it’s cool, and should be fun. Some people can come that don’t like to stand, since we play a lot of clubs. [Laughs]

Photo Credit: Aaron Rice

MIXTAPE: Bob Sumner’s Intro to Canadiana

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

What a joy to be asked to create a playlist for the Bluegrass Situation. It did not take long to land on the theme of Canadian music. The only difficult part was keeping it short. We have such a deep well of incredible Americana – or as some call it up here, ‘Canadiana’ – to pull from north of the border.

I struggled leaving out Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, and Gordon Lightfoot. But I hope to introduce BGS’s fine readership to some new music they might not already be hip to. I had to flex a little muscle and throw in a tune (a very Canadian one at that) by The Band. I would hope that a fair few of the folks digging into this playlist might be familiar with Ian Tyson, if only from his biggest number, “Four Strong Winds.” However, some might not be as acquainted with his cowboy records, the greatest of which is arguably Cowboyography.

Some of these folks you’ll find here are dear friends, others acquaintances, one is my big brother, a few are my heroes, all of them are among the finest songwriters on the planet. I hope that you will discover something new that you will love and cherish for years to come. What a pleasure it is to share the gift of music. – Bob Sumner

“Wide Open Plain” – Doug Paisley

Doug Paisley is a national treasure. A marvelous flatpicker. A songwriter’s songwriter. It is rare that I care to hear one of my favorite songs by an artist re-recorded. With “Wide Open Plain,” Doug takes a classic and reinvents it without losing the meat that made the original such a mainstay.

“Acadian Driftwood” – The Band

We here in Canada are very proud of the 4/5ths Canadian membership of one of the greatest bands to grace the airwaves. We love Levon, too, of course. A lot.

“Trucker Speed” – Fred Eaglesmith 

Fred Eaglesmith at his finest here in all of his ragged glory. When Fred sings you believe him.

“Cut Fence (Let God Sort Em Out)” – Richard Inman

Inman is a remarkable songwriter. Here he is telling the story of a ranch fire. “Cut fence, let God sort em out, let them horses all run free.”

“All I Know” – Elliot C Way

Recorded in a tiny farm house. With intention Elliot captured the loose groove of Link Wray’s self titled record. Fiddle, acoustic guitar, steel and poetry.

“Dayton” – Fiver 

Fiver (Simone Schmidt) is a terrifying artist. An artist whom every time I listen to her music I am reminded of why I began writing songs. For the songs themselves. Art for art’s sake. Purity.

“That Sweet Orchestra Song” – Kacy & Clayton

Pure joy, this track. Kacy’s soaring, meandering, frankly perfect vocal dancing atop cousin Clayton’s singular virtuosic guitar work.

“Lonnie’s on rhythm, Bud Romanski’s on bass/
McGlynn plays the steel guitar/
Commence with a four-count and the crack of a drum/
Turn around at the end of the bar…”

What fun.

“Empty Husk” – Daniel Romano 

Exquisitely beautiful. Bold. I have a hunch if we opened up and had a peek inside Daniel Romano we might find an alien being, or a cyborg. It just doesn’t track that one man could be so incredibly exceptional at whatever it is he sets his heart and mind to.

“Born in Spring” – Chaya Harvey

You heard her here first. Bask in the joy of being in the club. Chaya won’t be underground for long. Soon she will be breaking hearts the world over with her tender and vulnerable voice of an angel.

“The Place I Left Behind” – The Deep Dark Woods

If you know, then you know. If The Woods are new to you, then boy are you in for a treat. A deep discography lay before you full of sonic riches.

“Summer Wages” – Ian Tyson

A finer cowboy singer you won’t find the world over. The author of “Four Strong Winds.” Here he is with “Summer Wages,” a gem of a song. Bobby Bare recorded an excellent version of this one on his 1981 record, As Is.

“For a Long While” – Colter Wall

It seems the more the world asks of Colter Wall, the more he would prefer to retreat to cowboy work on his Canadian prairie ranch. This one is from his latest record of cowboy songs, Little Songs. A beauty of a tune.

“Too Late” – Ben Arsenault

Ben Arsenault has just released a masterclass of a classic country record. These songs have it all. One after the other. The refrain, “It’s too late now, it was too late then/ it’s too late, it’s always been’/” will roll around in your head long after the needle leaves the vinyl. A shiny little nugget of country gold.

“Motel Room” – Bob Sumner 

People seem to be diggin’ this one. It grooves. It hooks. Dobro, fiddle, telecaster. If words are your thing, they’re here too. An old friendship trying to survive the wilds of alcoholism. Nostalgia. Reminiscing.

“Bad Habits” – Johnny 99

Vibes. Johnny 99 gets the vibes. This one goes well with a late night toke. Only Johnny 99 (well, maybe Snoop) could get away with the lyric, “Yeah, I’m talking ’bout that weed smoke.”

“Born to Lose” – Brian Sumner 

My big brother Brian. Years ago, his wife from his first marriage left quite suddenly. Brian holed up in their empty apartment and wrote a record. The songs run the gamut of the mourning process. Anger, sadness, forgiveness, understanding. Finally this incredible collection of songs has seen the light of day with Brian’s quiet little release of the demo’s from that time.

Photo Credit: Tianna Franks

Town Mountain Tap Into the Spirit of Levon Helm for New EP

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Many things contribute to the most memorable recording projects, but according to genre-hopping bluegrass band Town Mountain, there’s nothing quite like working on hallowed ground.

For their new six-song EP, Dance Me Down Easy: The Woodstock Sessions (out January 18), the band had an unexpected chance to record at the upstate New York home/jam space/studio of roots music legend Levon Helm – and they wisely jumped at the chance. Produced by Justin Francis, the equally unexpected set finds Town Mountain tapping the spirit that made Helm and The Band so inspiring, leading to a uniquely funky addition to their catalog.

Built around deep-pocketed, deep-cut covers of tracks by Helm, The Kinks, J.J. Cale, Dire Straits, and The Rolling Stones, Dance Me Down Easy is filled with homespun soul and helps connect the dots between normally separate musical worlds. And as mandolin playing primary songwriter Phil Barker says, it wouldn’t be the same without Helm’s spiritual presence.

“It’ll be tough to top as far as a studio vibe, that’s always a big thing for us is the space we’re recording in,” Barker says. “It’s got to be an inspirational thing, and this place had inspiration for days.”

Speaking with BGS from the band’s hometown of Asheville, North Carolina, Barker did his best to describe a spur-of-the-moment, three-day musical getaway that turned into a bucket-list experience, and gave an already-adventurous band new license to rock.

This seems like the type of project where y’all got to let off some steam and have a little fun. Was it time for a change of pace?

Phil Barker: Well, our label New West was talking to us about recording some cover tunes [to] tie it over to our next record… and we had a show booked at Levon’s Barn, which was our first time playing there. From the other people we’d talked to, we knew this was going to be nothing but vibe and our routing worked out where we had a couple days at the end of the tour. So it was like, “Why don’t we just go back to the barn and hang out there for a few days?” …It was the perfect space to do this. No high pressure situation. It’s just like, “Let’s cut loose and have fun on songs that we enjoy.”

For people who might not know, what does Levon Helm’s barn represent in roots music?

For me, it’s kind of like one of the epicenters of the whole Americana genre. He had such a great way of bridging rock and roll with funk and country and traditional American music. And him as a musician in the bands that he was in, he was such a huge influence on everybody. This place was his spiritual center, where he would come and all the parties he would have there. All the creativity that happened in this space has just kind of generated this buzz within itself, and the word just spreads. Everybody we’d talked to was like, “Oh man, you’re going to love it there.” And we’ve told everybody since then like, “You got to go, man. You got to go there.” So any fan of music and traditional American music in particular, it’s a one of a kind of experience and we’ve always had it on our bucket list to go play. I’m so glad we got to do some recording there as well.

I knew there were jams held there, but I didn’t realize it was a full recording studio as well.

We talked to a lot of folks up there and the story goes that Levon decided he wanted to bring the party to him, he wanted to bring it to his space. So he created this barn literally on the back of his house. If you go through the back wall of the barn performance area, it’s his kitchen. So it’s literally his house and this beautiful property with a nice lake and all these woods. I mean, if you create a space like that and people are already playing music in there, they’re going to want to record. So there’s no fancy infrastructure for recording – it’s just a barn and there’s a couple baffles you can roll around, not isolation booths or anything – but it’s meant for a community kind of performance.

Take me through the first moment of walking in there. What did it feel like?

It’s like being in a church. Everybody just started walking around seeing all the spaces, and you go downstairs and there’s just endless Levon memorabilia on the walls. All these amazing pictures, all these random artifacts you’ll see nowhere else, and you can just feel all the creative energy that has happened in this space and it’s really kind of like buzzing. It was a really moving experience, honestly.

You’ve said that Levon had things figured out, musically? What do you mean by that?

Man, he just knew where the pocket was supposed to be. …It’s like he knew how to connect with the soul of any kind of music, and how it would connect with people.

Is that why you picked the songs you did? They represent a pretty wide swath of rock and roll.

It’s always a challenge to come up with cover tunes and we went through a bunch of ‘em. If it was meant for your band, I feel like you’ll know in the first couple of times you sit down together and play it. …We were open to every genre. Any suggestion was something we would try out if somebody was felt passionately about it. It just so happened that the ones that were working best with us in this particular situation, were more from the rock genre.

Town Mountain as a band has always had a bunch of that influence anyways, right?

Oh, absolutely. We had a Jay Farrar tune on the first record, so it’s always been on something we’ve embraced and not been afraid of.

“Dance Me Down Easy” ended up being the title song – one of Levon’s, but not The Band’s. Why did you pick that and not “Cripple Creek” or “The Weight” or something?

We wanted to pay a little homage to the stuff Levon did outside of The Band. That one’s from one of his killer solo records and something maybe people haven’t done as much. And honestly, it’s just fun to play. It’s like a funky dance tune that we don’t really do. We wanted to highlight that Levon was so much more than The Band, both as a musician and a person. So it was a natural fit.

The Kinks’ track “Strangers” really stood out, too. How did that get in the mix?

That was one of my picks. That song, I’ve just listened to it for years and I’ve always gravitated towards it. I’ll go through these phases where it’ll be on my Spotify mix and I’ll repeat it for literally 10 or 15 times in a row. I can just listen to that song forever because it really resonates with me. I love the writing and I love the feel, it’s really unique and I wanted to give it a little more country-rock vibe.

Did any of them surprise you with how they turned out?

Probably “So Far Away.” When we originally thought about that tune, it’s just like Dire Straits is so iconic and they have this laid-back vibe. It’s such a perfect fit for that tune. But at the same time, the lyrics are so country and we thought it would definitely fit with a pedal steel behind it. We kind of gave it a little bit of a Cajun swing feel.

Is this experience going to stay with you guys? Is the vibe something you’re able to take with you on the road?

That’s a great question. Hopefully we’ll incorporate it into more of the rest of our material, and find a way to tap into that. It’s a very space driven thing, so hopefully we can keep that in mind and let it guide our way in the future.

Photo Credit: David Simchok

The Latest Album From Steep Canyon Rangers Showcases Fresh Sounds, New Lineup

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s a rather warm evening in the mountains of Western North Carolina. With a sweltering sun slowly fading behind the ancient Blue Ridge peaks, Graham Sharp takes a seat at a picnic table underneath the welcoming shade of an old tree.

He takes a sip of a craft ale and gazes out upon the festive meadows of live music and fellowship behind Highland Brewing on the outskirts of Asheville. For Sharp, it’s a rarity these days for him to be able to sit back and enjoy the city he’s called home for the last 22 years.

Co-founder and de facto leader of the Steep Canyon Rangers, Sharp is at the center of one of the most enduring and cherished acts in the realms of Americana, bluegrass, and indie-folk — whether on its own merit or backing Steve Martin and Martin Short.

The Steep Canyon Rangers at the Western North Carolina retreat where they recorded ‘Morning Shift’ with Darrell Scott producing. Photo by Joey Seawell

At 46, Sharp has spent the majority of his adult life either on the road, onstage, or in the studio. And yet, like any endlessly restless and creatively curious musician worth one’s salt, Sharp feels like he’s just getting started.

“I’m the luckiest man on earth to be able to wake up in the morning and think, ‘I want to play banjo and write songs today,’” Sharp says. “Or am I going to get on a bus and go play some shows? That’s a good feeling to be excited about what you do — 25 years from now, I’ll probably be feeling the same way.”

What started as a rag-tag bunch of green horns jamming traditional bluegrass numbers in the dorms at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, has evolved into a bonafide group selling out venues coast-to-coast.

Throughout the Rangers’ history there’ve been awards and accolades, including three Grammy nominations and one win. There’s also been big stages (Red Rocks Amphitheatre, the Ryman Auditorium, Hollywood Bowl) and even bigger crowds (Bonnaroo, MerleFest, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass).

But, the core of the group resides in its unrelenting quest to dig deeper within itself to uncover another layer of sound and sonic possibility. Most recently, the band has gone through its biggest test to date, with the departure last year of founding member and arguably the gravitational center of the act, singer/guitarist Woody Platt, who decided to take a step back from the spotlight and focus on family.

“There’s a lot of things you can’t control and Woody leaving is a pretty good lesson in that fact that there’s only so much that you have influence over,” Sharp says. “And I’ve seen that with everybody [in the Rangers]. Everybody had worked hard, stepped up and defined their roles better in the band — just buckle down and push ahead.”

Fellow Western North Carolina singer-songwriter Aaron Burdett stepped into the fold to not necessarily replace Platt, but give the Rangers a new avenue to stride down, in terms of songwriting approaches and musical interpretations.

“We really tried to bring Aaron in to have another voice in there. I love having him as another writer,” Sharp says. “We both generate our own stuff and bounce ideas off of each other, where some of it feels like going back to the beginning [of the band] in the feeling.”

And with the Rangers’ latest album, Morning Shift, the sextet now finds itself at the dawn of a new, unwritten chapter of its continued trajectory as a group as sonically elusive as it is bountiful in its melodic pursuits.

“I don’t think you’d call it a chip on the shoulder,” Sharp says. “But, it feels like there’s just a drive we all have to just get better, to have more people hear what we’re doing — and we know what it takes to get there at this point.”

Hunkering down for a week in the off-the-beaten-path, unincorporated community of Bat Cave, North Carolina, the Rangers transformed a small mountain getaway into a makeshift studio. They also enlisted the help of Darrell Scott, the musical legend being tapped to produce the record.

“Darrell isn’t going to mince words — he’s pretty decisive,” Sharp says. “And Darrell spans all these [musical] worlds. He’s a monster picker and singer, and a great writer. We felt like he also comes from that bluegrass [scene], but also is outside of it, [like we are].”

 

What resulted is an album of genuine depth and stoic intent, renewal amid a reinvigorated sense of self. It’s a full-circle kind of thing, with the Steep Canyon Rangers not only reflecting on the past, but, more importantly, still chasing after that unknown horizon of artistic discovery. Our BGS interview with Sharp at Highland Brewing in Asheville continued with a conversation about the group’s changing lineup and dynamic.

It’s been a big year for you guys in a lot of ways — physically, sonically. What’s the dynamic right now? What’s kind of changed?

Graham Sharp: Well, what I’ve noticed is my default method [is] when things go weird, to just work harder.

There’s more of a round-robin feel in the band than before.

GS: Yeah. I get that. That’s what people say, that the dynamic reminds them of The Band, where there’s three or four different singers. And that was part of the deal, part of the thought process of, “Let’s take this role that’s the prototypical lead singer/guitar role and de-emphasize that.” Not totally strip it of everything, but the guitar player’s going to sing 40 or 50 percent of the songs. He’s not going to sing 80 percent of the songs. And part of that plays like a little bit of a safeguard, where if something happens with Aaron two years from now, we don’t want to be back in the same boat, where it’s like we’re losing a big hole out of the middle of the band.

Mandolinist Mike Guggino, in the studio recording the Steep Canyon Rangers’ ‘Morning Shift.’ Shot by Joey Seawell.

Like equally distributed weight now.

GS: Yeah. That’s kind of how we want it. And I think that’s what it needs to be. There’s a lot of talent in [the band] and maybe this is a chance to uncover some of it.

Not to take anything away from Woody and his contributions, but it feels more of a cohesive unit than I’ve ever seen it before.

GS: Isn’t that crazy? And that’s what people have been saying. I don’t know what that is except to say everybody’s stepping up and also making sure everybody else shines a little bit more.

I also wonder if that plays into more camaraderie in the band.

GS: Maybe. I mean, the band is a brotherhood. You couldn’t have more camaraderie than we have. But, that said, if people are feeling like their talents aren’t being put into full use – there’s one thing about being great friends and being brothers, but also on some kind of subconscious level, if you feel like there’s stuff that’s not being utilized, then maybe there’s something else you should be doing, you know?

And there’s maybe a reaffirming of gratitude for how far you guys have come.

GS: No doubt, man. That’s definitely one of the overwhelming things that has come out of this [latest chapter], is just gratitude to still be doing it — just keep going and keep doing it. [With Morning Shift], this record feels like a jumping off point.

The album also reinforces that elusive nature that’s always resided in the Rangers, where the last thing you ever want to be is pigeonholed, musically.

GS: Yeah. But, I love to play the banjo, so I don’t want to grow away from that. And [sometimes] I feel like my writing doesn’t always lend itself to the banjo. So, a lot of my stuff on the banjo ends up being able to figure out how you play to this weird song that doesn’t really call for banjo like a bluegrass song would — that’s part of the fun of [songwriting].

Aaron has now been in the band for a year. What’s surprised you the most about what he’s brought to the Rangers?

GS: We knew he was a great singer when we hired him, so that didn’t come as a surprise. When he sent us his demos, we knew this was our guy. But, the biggest surprise has been just how far apart our musical worlds are. He’s a very different musician than anybody we’ve had in the band. There’s things that he does in his own rhythm. He just has a different touch on the rhythm guitar.

Graham Sharp of the Steep Canyon Rangers recording ‘Morning Shift’ in studio. Photo by Joey Seawell.

There’s definitely a feeling of reinvigoration within the band. Almost 25 years into the Rangers, the band is still at the top of its game. But, playing devil’s advocate, I think there’s now other mountains you can see that you may want to climb?

GS: I think you’re right. I mean, as a band, you only have one introduction to the world. Maybe we were lucky because we got two, the other with Steve Martin. But, right now, it feels more like a collective up onstage. And I think that’s invaluable. Everybody is putting in the work. For example, I’ve always played banjo for a couple hours a day. But, maybe now, I play it for three hours a day. You’re just stepping things up, bringing things up a notch.

What really sticks out when you look back at the early years of the band, this handful of college kids learning to play bluegrass music?

GS: It was 1999. Somewhere in my junior or senior in college. It was myself, [former bassist] Charles [Humphrey] and Woody. Then, [mandolinist] Mike [Guggino] showed up later because he was Woody’s friend from Brevard, [North Carolina]. There was no ambition at the time. The ambition was really, “Let’s learn to play [bluegrass] so it sounds like it does on these records.”

New Grass Revival. [Russell Moore and] IIIrd Tyme Out. We never got to where we sounded like any of those bands. We could never sound like Lonesome River Band. But, take a little bit of this, take a little bit of that and go play onstage at bluegrass festivals. Go to Sears and get some clothes that match. And [a lot of the bluegrass] legends were still around and playing those festivals. Earl [Scruggs] was still around. John Hartford. Jimmy Martin. You know, when you’re young and rising, you’ve got all the momentum, all the buzz. And when you’re established and older, it’s different. Right now, we’re in this in-between period where it’s not newer and it’s not legacy. But, we’re not Billy Strings or Molly Tuttle, either. I still just love going out [there onstage] and proving it every single time — that feeling of doing what it takes to be our best each night.

All photos: Joey Seawell

BGS Top 50 Moments: Lifting “The Weight” of the Pandemic With the Whiskey Sour Happy Hour

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

It was still early in the pandemic – April of 2020 maybe – when the idea started percolating amongst Ed and the BGS staff. Here we were, stuck at home in lockdown, seeing so many of our artist friends struggling to make ends meet while the world around us came to a screeching halt. We didn’t know what we should do, but we needed to do something.

And hence the Whiskey Sour Happy Hour was born. A riff on Ed’s long-running live variety show at Largo in L.A., the Whiskey Sour Radio Hour, we would pull all of our collective favors to create a four-part series that could hopefully bring a little joy to our friends and fans, and raise some money for two amazing charities in the process.

Collaborating with our friends at the Americana Music Association, WSHH quickly became a mashup of our very favorite folks – musicians, comedians, and entertainers – but also a way for our team to feel like we were re-connected. After months of isolation, it was re-energizing to not only be working on something creative, but something we were proud of, too.

Talent pooled in from all over – from Billy Strings to Stephen Colbert, Lee Ann Womack to Kenny G (yes, that Kenny G) – everyone performing live from their living rooms and brought together by host Ed Helms.

No other number signified the massive effort and joy that went into the WSHH than the all-star superjam rendition of “The Weight.” With over twenty-five contributors jamming along from across the country, it was six minutes of glorious respite, where the weight of the pandemic was suddenly lifted and we were once again surrounded by the comfort of friends.

Cover photo: I’m With Her (Sara Watkins, Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O’Donovan)

MIXTAPE: Anthony d’Amato’s Train Songs

Posted on by Editor

While putting the finishing touches on my new record, At First There Was Nothing, I found myself living beside the tracks of the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad in southwestern Colorado. Widely considered one of the most scenic train trips on the continent, the jaw-dropping route stretches 45 miles through pristine wilderness, along impossibly narrow cliff ledges, and above roaring river rapids.

Though it was originally constructed in order to haul gold and silver ore from the otherwise inaccessible San Juan Mountains, these days it’s a tourist line beloved by sightseers, backpackers, and whitewater rafters. Even though the cargo has changed, the railroad is still powered by steam engines, just as it was 140 years ago when it first opened, and it’s hard not to fall in love with the sights and sounds and smells that go with it.

When it came time to make a video for the album’s lead single, “Long Haul,” I knew that I wanted to find a way to bring the railroad into it, and fortunately they were gracious enough to let us commandeer a caboose for the finale.

Returning to Durango for the project had me thinking about the strong connections between music and railroads. For as long as there have been trains, there have been train songs: some are joyful celebrations, others, mournful laments. A train whistle can mark a long-awaited arrival or a much-dreaded departure, the start of a new adventure or the end of the good old days. It’s hard to know where to begin when it comes to putting together a playlist of railroad songs, as trains have been written about from nearly every angle in nearly every genre, but here you’ll find some of my favorites, which I hope may inspire you to hit the rails yourself. — Anthony D’Amato

The Band – “Mystery Train”

A cornerstone of American rock and roll, “Mystery Train” has been performed and recorded by just about everyone over the years, but I chose to kick things off with The Band’s version. Musicians use the term “train beat” to refer to a certain kind of basic drum pattern, but Levon goes above and beyond here. There’s a relentlessness and a momentum to his groove that genuinely evokes the feeling of wheels rolling down the track, and it’s utterly mesmerizing.

Howlin’ Wolf – “Smokestack Lightnin’”

Eerie and hypnotic, “Smokestack Lightnin’” is an all-time blues classic. Howlin’ Wolf said the title was inspired by sitting in the country at night and watching sparks fly from the smokestack of passing trains. Close your eyes while you listen and it’s easy to see the red-hot embers dancing in the empty black sky.

The Kinks – “Last of the Steam-Powered Trains”

The through line from Howlin’ Wolf to The Kinks is pretty obvious when you listen to these songs back to back.

The Staple Singers – “This Train”

There are a whole host of versions of this song to choose from, but I’ve always loved The Staple Singers’ take on it, which blurs the lines between gospel and blues. The train is a potent symbol not just in 20th century music and art and literature, but in religious expression, as well, and this is a prime example.

Bruce Springsteen – “Land of Hope and Dreams”

Springsteen references a number of train songs (including “This Train”) within “Land of Hope and Dreams,” which was a live favorite for years before he recorded it on the Wrecking Ball album. I’ve always been drawn to the imagery in this tune, as well as the intricate way in which the words all fit together like puzzle pieces without a single wasted vowel or consonant. “Big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams” is as clean a line as you could ever hope to write.

Elizabeth Cotten – “Freight Train”

Written when Cotten was still quite young, “Freight Train” is an enduring classic more than 100 years later, and her performance here is utterly timeless. Interestingly enough, the tune made its way to England in the 1950s, where it was covered by a skiffle group called The Quarrymen (which eventually evolved into The Beatles). Seems everyone cut their teeth on train songs.

Lead Belly – “Midnight Special”

The passing headlight of a train is a sign of freedom and salvation for a prisoner in this song, who lets the glow wash over him like baptismal waters in his penitentiary cell.

Ernest Stoneman – “Wreck of the Old 97”

Trainwrecks have been fertile ground for songwriters through the years, and who could blame them? Trainwrecks have it all: drama, heroism, danger, tragedy, sacrifice. If all we got out of this tune was Rhett Miller and his compatriots in the Old 97s, it’d still be worthy of inclusion here.

Woody Guthrie – “John Henry”

Railroads have produced their fair share of local and regional folk heroes over the years, but none as iconic as John Henry, who wins the battle of man versus machine but pays with his life. There’s a whole lot about capitalism and labor and race and technology all wrapped up in this song, which could be said of the railroads themselves, too.

Bob Dylan – “Slow Train”

There’s a simmering intensity to this song that stares you dead in the eye and refuses to blink. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that Dylan chose a train as the central metaphor in this scathing assessment of America.

Arlo Guthrie – “The City of New Orleans”

Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans” is another well-covered train song, but as far as I’m concerned, Arlo Guthrie has the definitive version. It’s a beautiful slice of life from the perspective of a traveler looking out the window at a changing country.

Justin Townes Earle – “Workin’ for the MTA”

It’s hard to write a modern train song that doesn’t sound like Woody Guthrie cosplay, but Justin Townes Earle did a brilliant job of updating the form on this tune, which is sung from the perspective of a New York City subway worker.

Amanda Shires – “When You Need a Train It Never Comes”

This one’s about a lack of trains, but I think it still qualifies. This was the first song of Amanda’s I ever heard, and I was instantly drawn to her unique perspective on what could otherwise be well-worn territory. Like the Justin Townes Earle tune, it’s a rare contemporary take that feels genuinely original.

Brad Miller – “Reader Railroad No 1702 2-8-0”

This might be considered cheating since it’s not technically a song, but over the years there have been a number of LPs released by and for railfans that consist entirely of field recordings of trains. Many have been relegated to attics and secondhand shops, but some were digitized and made the leap to streaming. I chose this recording from a 1972 album called Steel Rails Under Thundering Skys because I think it offers a great entry point to someone asking the perfectly reasonable question, “Why the hell would I want to listen to that?” The mix of steam trains, falling rain, and rolling thunder is incredibly soothing. Put it on and watch your blood pressure drop.

Photo Credit: Vivian Wang

BGS 5+5: Dan Knobler

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Dan Knobler (Producer, Engineer, Mixer)
Hometown: New York, New York
Latest Album: Friends Play My Son’s Favorite Songs, Vol. 1

Which artist or producer has influenced you the most … and how?

Artist: There are a million I could cite for different reasons — Rodney Crowell, Guy Clark, Ray Charles, Lucinda Williams, Blake Mills, Derek Trucks — but probably the two that changed my musical path most dramatically are The Meters and The Band. My dad took me to see The Meters when I was a young teen at a time when I was really digging into the guitar and finding my voice. I was deep into the classic rock and blues legends and seeing that show and then exploring the early instrumental Meters records opened the floodgates for all sorts of groove-based and improvisatory music.

I followed that stream to the fertile soil of New Orleans music: brass bands and Mardi Gras indians (check out The Wild Tchoupitoulas if you don’t know) and Allen Toussaint-produced records. From there my horizons widened to other classic funk/soul/R&B which was hugely influential for me — Stax, Motown, James Brown, King Curtis (and all their respective rhythm sections) — and then onward to soul jazz like Jimmy Smith and Lou Donaldson and big bands like Count Basie and Thad Jones / Mel Lewis, then to various eras of Miles Davis and classic Blue Note and Impulse! records like Blues and The Abstract Truth and A Love Supreme.

Later on, during my early college years, I fell under the spell of The Band’s first two records. They too drew influence from a lot of the same soul and R&B records that I had come to love, but imbued it with elements of country and folk and the songs told stories with depth and mystery and characters that felt real. I followed their influences back to classic country and country blues, aided along by an impeccable playlist that my then-girlfriend-now-wife, Carrie Crowell, put together when she first took me to Nashville. Slightly later I started to follow the influence of The Band forward to great modern Americana records and songwriters, many of whom are now friends and collaborators.

Producer: Again, a million past and present who I respect and admire: John Simon, T Bone Burnett, Blake Mills, Josh Kauffman, Russ Titleman, Lenny Waronker. But the one who had the most direct influence on me is Joe Henry. The man is an artist and a poet and a songwriter of the highest order, but has also been at the helm of so many records that have shaped my musical sensibility. The one that looms largest for me is Solomon Burke’s Don’t Give Up On Me. It’s mysterious and deep and heartfelt and immersive and every single musician is playing with nuance and grace.

And that’s true of every Joe Henry record, whether his name is on the front or the back. He casts the room with the right players and emboldens them to be their best selves; he dismisses pretense and genre archetypes and leaves room for light to slip in through the cracks. Particularly with engineer Ryan Freeland at his side, Joe makes records that envelop you. I told him once that his records feel like a well-appointed lounge with the door left slightly ajar — if the listener feels so inclined there is an open invitation to walk in and sit down and feel welcome.

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

I love any well-told story, be it a movie or a novel or a great TV show. I do really love a great TV show. Any time there are characters and a world that continues to feel real in your mind and soul after you’ve put the story down is magic. I like photography; I like impressionist paintings; I like interesting architecture and great trees. I love a good meal.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’ve been lucky enough to sit with Joe Henry and sip negronis, so I can check that off my list. I’m also extremely grateful to be surrounded by world-class musicians and songwriters here in Nashville. I’ve shared studio lunches and falafel plates and had late-night hangs with some of the finest folks to be making music in this town. I suppose I’m gonna dream, I’d love to split a belly ham pizza at City House with Randy Newman.

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

I hope I can spend my life making the kinds of records that people carry with them through the years, records that can be revisited and grow with you over time. There are certain albums and artists that were particularly meaningful or influential during certain eras of my life that take on a whole new meaning for me now. I want to make music that captivates and surprises people, with great people playing great songs; I want to create a sonic world for those people and those songs to live in that reflects their light most powerfully. I want to make records that the artist thinks is their finest work, that open doors for them and enable them to move through the creative world with more confidence and resources. I want to make records that I want to go back and listen to. I love making records.

What’s your favorite memory from being in the studio?

Here’s a smattering:

• The first time I ever played with Jason Burger. Not in a studio, but through the chaos of young musicians trying to prove themselves in a big open jam session at a Berklee summer program, Jason, bassist Zack Rosen, and I felt a magical rhythm connection that sparked years of playing together. Though Zack passed in 2019, Jason and I carry that spirit into every record we get to make together: a knowing that the sum is greater than its parts, a simultaneous summoning of interlocking rhythms, an endeavor to channel the deep power and beauty of communication through music.

• Setting up a makeshift studio in the unfinished basement of my in-laws’ house in upstate New York and making my college band Flearoy’s first record. It was winter and we were wearing coats while we recorded. We had bought a Leslie on the way up and left it in the back of keyboardist Matt Porter’s minivan for isolation, cables running through cracked windows. Carrie joined us and made meals and we all sat around the fire in the evening and laughed.

• My son, Willoughby, “drawing the sound of the song” in chalk on the studio patio while Anthony Da Costa and I were recording “Here Comes the Sun” for an album I made called Friends Play My Son’s Favorite Songs, Volume 1 and the feeling of listening to the songs I would record for him in the car on the way to school and have him request them on repeat.

• Any time I walk through the doors at Sound Emporium. That place is one of the world’s great studios; it sounds amazing, it feels amazing, it has been home to countless records I love dearly. Every single time I work there I feel deep gratitude that this is my job and a childlike giddiness that not only do I get to work in that particular sonic temple, but I feel at home there.

• Recording “Joyful Motherfuckers” for Allison Russell’s record Outside Child. That whole record was an incredibly beautiful and spiritual experience and every musician on the floor knew it was special from the first downbeat, well before there was any label support or critical praise. While we tracked “Joyful Motherfuckers” all those feelings were particularly palpable. It was the only song on the record that Alli’s partner in life, songwriter JT Nero, played and sang on. At first I thought it should maybe just be the two of them but I had all the musicians stay in their stations — instruments in hand — and said, “If you feel compelled to play, play.”

While Alli and JT sang and all the musicians in the room had their eyes closed, a spell had been cast. Drew Lindsay bravely played a few choice notes on piano at the end of a verse and somehow everyone else in the room just knew what to do: on the downbeat of the bridge we all came in, gently, subtly, but with deep power. As the take ended no one wanted to say anything because once we acknowledged what had happened, the spell would be broken. Most of us cried listening to playback. Luckily, one of the beautiful things about making records is that when you care to revisit a piece of work you get to experience it both as its final form but also as an opportunity to relive the memory and chapter of your life when you made it.

Photo Credit: Melody Walker