Tag: the eagles

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Poaching from Elvis, well over 50,000,000 Vince Gill fans can’t be wrong.

The longevity Gill discussed in Part 1 of this interview has taken him from bluegrass beginnings to a genre-inclusive 50 years as one of country’s most beloved and sought-after artists.

It’s not always been easy, however. No one, regardless of talent or fan loyalty, is immune from freedom of the keyboard and Gill is no stranger to the highs and lows of public opinion. Mostly it’s outpourings of gratitude from the millions whose lives his music touches. Sometimes it’s claptrap about his now decade-long tenure in the Eagles, or venomous spewing over songs like “March On, March On,” from Secondhand Smoke, the second in his series of retrospective EPs being released monthly.

In Part 2 of his conversation with Good Country, Gill discusses, among other things, the aforementioned decade-long tenure with the Eagles, bullying – with a few choice words for those who inflict it – his scrolling habits, and he indulges us in a rapid-fire round of closing questions.

In the arc of this 50-year project, it is not unnoticed that Hotel California turns 50 this year. Do you have memories of listening to that album as a young man, as you now find yourself onstage playing those songs?

Vince Gill: I had all the Eagles records. We did a lot of their songs in my bluegrass days, and it’s completely surreal. I’m starting my tenth year of being in that band and continuing that legacy of songs. What I value most about getting to play with these guys, what I’ve learned most, is how important songs are – all the notes, all the licks, all the riffs, all that stuff. Getting to relearn that at this stage of life has been pretty profound in the way that I’m trying to write songs. I’m patient in the way I write. I’m patient to wait for it to come – the right words, to not settle on anything, and really edit and work and edit and work and continue to try to be mindful of how important the song is.

What I’m mindful of with the Eagles is the tragedy. More important than the fact that I get to do it is that if Glenn had not passed away, I would not have gotten to do this and I’m grateful I’m the one they called. I met all those guys in, I think, 1980, when I was living [in California]. In a million years, would I have ever thought this would have happened? No. But I am careful of how I couch everything, because it came from something tragic and I am respectful of that.

Glenn was a really good friend of mine, actually, and his son Deacon is doing a great job up there of carrying on his dad’s tradition. I think I’m a great fit for them in the way I play guitar and sing, and sing harmony, and play all the instruments I do. I’m not saying I’m better than anybody else they could have gotten. I’m just saying what I do suits them really well.

Jedd Hughes described you as “one of the greatest band leaders I’ve ever worked with. He’s listening to everything and everyone, always, so you can read his cues pretty easily.” First part of the question: Where did you learn to lead?

Because I’m a musician, I think I come at it different and I operate under the mindset that every note is equal. You’re not more important because you’re the lead singer. You’re not more important because you play the lead solo in the song. I value every note the same. Spending my life in the studio like I have, knowing what you play and do has to sit well and play well with others, you have to listen to everybody else.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit. Sometimes people play only to be noticed and that doesn’t necessarily constitute the right thing for the song. They say in Nashville all the time, “Just serve the song.” That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. If someone’s playing something and doing something, don’t do something to distract it. Do something to enhance it, to support it.

Second part: How does that translate to arrangements and contributions from the musicians you work with?

Great players all listen to each other and you’re dealing with a caliber of musicians that already know what not to do, so you don’t have to waste time going, “Hey, don’t play that, that’s too much, that’s not necessary.” Every time I’m in there playing, I take every note, examine it, and make it move me, make it sit just right.

Once again, if you’re playing with that caliber of people, which I fortunately am – my band is usually made up of a lot of studio musicians and amazing players – they like playing with me because I’m a player, too. I’m not just someone up there singing the songs. So I think I have their respect, and that points you once again towards, “What’s the best thing for the song? What’s the best arrangement idea? What’s the best part to play? What’s the best part not to play?” That’s it in a nutshell.

I’m surrounded by musicians that can all play me under the table, straight up. That’s the truth. I’m grateful to have them, grateful to get to play with them, and it makes for a very democratic spirit. Even in the way we record, I’m not heavy-handed. I’m not telling people what to play. Oftentimes we’ll be in there and they’ll say, “Do you like this?” I go, “I don’t have any idea. I’ve never even heard this song before. I know I wrote it, but we’re in here trying to figure it out, so we’re just going to figure it out all together.”

It creates a great spirit in there if everybody feels like they’re all walking on equal ground, everybody has a right to an opinion, everybody has a right to try something, nobody gets shut down, nobody gets put off. It’s an amazing experience. I don’t ever do demos with my songs. I just write them and then I show them to the guys on the floor. I go, “This is how it goes. Let’s figure it out.” They naturally gravitate towards something great and you just follow them off the cliff! It’s wonderful to watch other people’s gifts.

Earlier you described yourself as “the happiest son of a bitch in the world” who just loves sad songs. In that happiness, however, you have experienced much grief. Your faith is strong. Have you ever lost or questioned it during times of loss?

When I think about faith, I don’t think of it so much [from] the religious point of view. I think faith in humanity – more than Baptist or Methodist, or heaven or hell, or any of that stuff. None of these questions have ever been answered, so to pretend you know the answers seems a little, I don’t know, pretentious almost. That might not be a good word. But, no. It all comes from loving deep. The people I love, I love them deeply. They matter to me.

Music is where I go to grieve. It’s where I go to get through loss. It’s where all those things are. I tell everybody it’s cheaper than therapy. I just write about it.

I never feel the need to fix everything in my life. My relationship with my dad, if it was funky or whatever, I said, “It’s not my place to change him. It’s my job to accept him.” Once I could do that, we had a great relationship. You don’t have to be like me for me to like you. You don’t have to think like I do for me to like you.

I’ve been told more often than not, “Why I like your songs is you are able to say what I wish I could say. You are able to express feelings I have that I don’t know how to.” Maya Angelou sought me out and asked me to come and meet her when she was in Nashville years ago. She told me, “‘Go Rest High’ was a lifesaver to me. It helped me get through the loss of my brother.” Those kinds of things make you go, “I’m going to try to find a way to be emotional about things and not only help myself, but help other people too.” I think if you can portray in a story what someone’s going through, you have a chance to make people feel better.

You can’t name-drop Maya Angelou and just go on to the next question! We need to back up a little bit.

She was speaking at Vanderbilt and wanted to meet. [My wife] Amy [Grant] and I went and afterward we got to go back and say hi. She said, “You mean a lot to me, because your song helped me get through one of the hardest times of my life.” It was a great visit.

You’ve released the fourth EP in your series. Which chapter is this and do you know what’s to follow?

It’s uptempo-y and groove-y, kind of like “Liza Jane” and “One More Last Chance” and some of those fun songs. Each record is, on purpose, similar-driven. The record after this fourth one will be a lot of real country-country stuff, real traditional stuff. The one after that is going to be more like “I Still Believe In You” and “Don’t Let Our Love Start Slippin’ Away,” from a more rocking side. I don’t want to say the word “pop,” but it is. It feels like an Eagles record or a Fleetwood Mac record at times. The inspirations are all in there.

The one after that is real bluesy R&B-ish. Are you hip to Lamont Landers? He’s a soul singer from Alabama. You look at him and go, “There’s no way this voice is coming out of that dude.” He does all these really cool things. I found him and I got him to come and sing on one of my songs that’s coming out later in the year. He’s just such a cool dude. I’ve been trying to turn people on to him.

How did you find him?

Scrolling.

You’re a scroller!

Oh, heavily guilty. I tell Amy it’s my TV now instead of channel surfing. Once in a while you’ll come upon a great young musician, or a great young singer, or a great comedian. There’s so many options, and if you stop on something, it’ll start giving you hundreds of things just like that.

The algorithm gets you.

Yeah, exactly. But it’s entertaining, and I found a couple of people to track down and
have them sing on my record because I like what they do.

What do you scroll?

YouTube, Facebook, Instagram. Most of the stuff is pointless, but there’s a nugget once in a while.

How do you handle the cruelty of social media? It can get to anyone, especially when it’s directed toward you.

It can, if you let it. That’s the life we live in now. You can’t go perform and not have everybody have a camera out and put it up and showing it and seeing it. You have a bad night and everybody’s going to rip you for it. It’s like, “How much negativity can you continue putting out there, saying negative things?” It’s never going to stop, you know that, but it’s still entertaining to read.

I read it to be informed and I don’t mind taking it. I’ve lived with critics being critical of everything I’ve ever done. It comes with the territory. If you’re brave enough to stand up there and speak through a microphone, you know you’re going to get judged to some degree. Once in a while, somebody will say something and I say, “That’s fair. That’s truthful.” Other people will say things and I go, “You don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about, but you have an opinion that’s inflammatory towards me, and you couldn’t be more wrong.” I know that, so it doesn’t have an impact.

Sadly, people have to get on there, the keyboard warriors. They think they finally have a voice. Being able to post and have an opinion, they think that gives them a voice. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. I know that, so I just take it with a grain of salt and move on.

Perhaps being 68 years old with experience and success makes that easier than for a young person just starting out.

People are still critical of me being in the Eagles. They say, “Now it’s a cover band and you shouldn’t be there,” blah, blah, blah. You know it’s coming, so press on. Say whatever you want. Say it to my face and see what happens to you!

I can’t control any of it. I can control me. I can control my heart, what my heart thinks, what my heart feels. If you hate what I do, that’s okay. A lot of people don’t like what I do. I’m used to that. You’re not going to stop me.

Earlier we talked about hope. I just hope people respond. I don’t mind if they respond negatively. You don’t want that, you’d rather not, but it’s funny how you can get a hundred good reviews on a record and one bad and you only remember the bad one. That’s human nature. It’s not a weakness. It just goes to show how being cruel and negative towards someone has an impact.

I think about the times I was in school and was talked to in a negative way, and how it lasted. I remembered it forever. There was a girl I was in a band with for a little bit. She sang in this choir at the school that was really well thought of, and the choir director told her, “You are wasting your time with that guy and his banjo and bluegrass. He’s a fool.” And I just want to go, “Na-na-na-na-na!” But you remember it. And an English teacher that kicked me out of the class for saying something she didn’t like and painted me a certain way. You remember it.

My own kids, one teacher said to my youngest daughter, “My dog has more manners than you.” Things like that … my hundred-year-old mother is still pissed off about that! She’s still, “I’d like to get my hands on that teacher!” We’ve got a good bit of redneck in us!

I watch my sweet wife take slings and arrows all the time and the way she handles it is so beautiful to watch and so inspiring. It’s helped me do the same thing.

Can you play everything you hear in your head?

Probably. I hope so! It’s funny you brought that up, because being a musician and a singer, people say, “How do you get inspired to sing?” or “How do you get inspired to play?” Well, before I play something, in my head, I’m saying, “How would you sing this?” And when I’m getting ready to sing something, I ask myself, “How would you play this? What kind of rhythm? What kind of phrasing?” All those things.

I think the real difference [between] a good singer and a great singer is the way they phrase. Ray Charles could phrase like nobody’s business. Jerry Lee Lewis, when he sang country songs, could phrase like nobody else. George Jones could phrase like nobody else. You go on and on and look at all the greatest singers, and they’re unique because more so the way they phrased than how many notes they sang.

What is the difference between playing guitar and being a guitarist?

Oh, man. I don’t know if there is. I think it’s the same thing. It all comes from the same heart. It all comes from the same ears. I just play what I think fits. I think that’s what being a great guitarist is – playing what fits.

I saw something the other day that said, “I refuse to name who I think the greatest guitar player is,” and it makes sense to me because there’s no such thing. Everybody goes at it in a different way and has a different spirit about it, has a different way they want to play and statement they want to make. Then it becomes a matter of your preference, of what you like best, that defines what the best guitar player is.

I just like people that are gifted, and people that are musical, and they play what’s in their hearts and what they feel. If you feel it like they do, game over. If you don’t, you move on. Not every great guitar player moves me. It might move you. I think we’re lucky that we can be subjective and not have to all feel the same way about the same things.

Let’s close with a lightning round. Anything goes, whatever comes to mind. An album you wish you had played on.

Hotel California.

A song you wish you had written.

“’Till I Gain Control Again” by Rodney Crowell.

A session in which you wish you could have been a fly on the wall.

“Together Again” by Buck Owens.

A concert you attended that made your head spin.

Paul McCartney.

A guitar solo you wish you could claim as your own.

Oh, gosh. I might have to go with a Chet Atkins solo, because he’s the first person I ever saw play live when I was a little boy.

Editor’s Note: Check out part one of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

Want more Good Country? Sign up to receive our monthly email newsletter – and much more music! – direct to your inbox.

Photo Credit: David McClister

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 1)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Vince Gill doesn’t give interviews; he gives conversations – lengthy, engaging conversations filled with the same reflection and storytelling that make his songwriting so relatable and successful. Factor in his enviable mastery of guitar and other instruments and the result is a well-rounded artist who has won 18 CMA awards, 22 GRAMMY awards, and eight Academy of Country Music Awards.

In 2025, he was presented with the CMA Willie Nelson Lifetime Achievement Award, and this year, on May 6, he will receive the Ken Burns American Heritage Prize. He’s been a member of the Grand Ole Opry since 1991 and in 2005 was entered into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. Two years later, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Over the course of 21 albums his sales exceed thirty million with 45 chart singles. Coming up is a summer tour, which will wrap with a six-night residency at the Ryman Auditorium, while continuing his ongoing schedule with the Eagles. All of this is only a cursory glance at his many accolades.

Gill’s accomplishments, and the experiences that accompany them, are at the core of his latest project, 50 Years From Home, a yearlong series of monthly EPs marking the fiftieth anniversary of his leaving home to pursue a music career. Each collection features themed new songs and revisited classics, with photos of select guitars on the covers. The EPs are introduced via detailed conversations with friend and colleague Charlie Worsham – watch all episodes on Gill’s YouTube channel.

Down At The Borderline, released February 13, is the fourth and latest EP in the series, while the next installment, Lonely’s What I Do, already arrives this Friday, March 13. A few weeks prior to the release of Down At The Borderline, Gill made himself available for more interviews and conversations, including a talk with Good Country.

At this point, it’s difficult to imagine anything Vince Gill hasn’t done. In fact, there are two key things, neither of which he cares to pursue:

“I’ve never sent a text,” he says, “because I prefer talking to people. What you find out [with texts] is how many people really don’t want to talk to you!” And, “I’ve never posted anything on the internet,” although he does have a scrolling habit, which he gladly admitted to during this discussion.

As you move through endless interviews around these EPs, is there something you’ve always wanted to talk about but have never been asked? Now’s your chance to tell the world!

Vince Gill: I wouldn’t have a clue! I never was much of a planner. I think it’s a blessing that I just live in the moment. I don’t look ahead, I don’t look back much, and there’s not a lot of regrets in my life. I figure the mistakes I made were valuable to learn something. I never planned any of this. I didn’t sit down and have a diary that I’d go, “When I’m this age, I want to have done this and this.” I just answered the phone.

You should probably give classes on that, because this is an industry of nonstop worry: What’s going to happen? Will this work? Will this not work? To move from project to project, stage to stage of your career with that mindset is impressive.

I started out with absolutely not one dollar, so money has never been the reason for any of it. I bought a guitar when I was 18 years old and I moved away from home. It was an old pre-war Martin that was perfect for bluegrass. I spent every dime I had on it and I didn’t worry. I said, “My rent’s $15 a month, I’ll make a couple hundred bucks a week when we work, so I’ll be fine.”

Amazing.

Speaking of going from stage to stage of your career, the EPs are each a chapter told with collections of songs. Tell us more.

The majority of it is fairly new. From the time I started in 1975, there was no reason to have a publishing deal for a long time. Even after I had a record deal, I didn’t see the need because I had a place for my songs to land on my own records. I never partnered up with a publisher, to give away half the money, to give a monthly draw to help pay my rent or whatever. I was able to always pay the rent somehow – my house note, whatever it was – with playing and singing.

Three or four years ago, Jody Williams, who’s a lifelong publisher in Nashville and a friend of mine for 40-something years now, called me and said, “You’ve never had a publisher. Would you consider letting me manage your songwriting for a while? I think you still have a lot to say as a songwriter.” I said, “Yeah, I’ll try that out.”

He would call great songwriters and say, “Would you like to write a song with Vince?” I was never a very good self-promoter, so I would never do that on my own. I just let it unfold with people I would meet. So it started me down this path of writing a lot of music, and over the last three or four years I’ve written twice as many songs as I’ve recorded on this new 50 Years From Home project. I think I’m writing the best songs I’ve ever written. With time you should get better, and I think I have.

I don’t want to check out someday and have all these songs lost in a desk drawer somewhere, so I’ve started recording them all. It’s a different world now, a different way. If you want to release 75 songs, you can do it. You don’t have to have one album with 10 songs on it anymore. So I started thinking about what it would be. My first conception was to release two songs a week, like an A-side and B-side of a 45. “It’s Monday, it’s time for a couple new Vince songs.” The record company came up with the idea of, “Why don’t you do a series of EPs and have six or seven songs on each one?” I said, “That sounds cool. We’ll put one out a month.”

That’s where the whole thing started. I was trying to find a way to put all this out. I realize at this point in my life, I’m almost 69, I don’t have as much time left to be creative as I’ve had to this point, obviously. How much more it matters now is palpable. It really means something to me to be creative, and if I see myself improving, I want to nurture and foster that and continue, because it’s so dear to me, being musical, being creative, coming up with an idea, coming up with a story that could potentially move somebody, touch somebody. It’s unbelievable to be able to have that gift, to be able to do that. So I’m trying to take full advantage of it.

But 68 or 69 today is not the 68 or 69 of our parents’ years. When you’re a kid, your parents turn 50 and it seems ancient.

That’s true. My mom’s a hundred years old.

See? You have many more years to go, especially if you’re still 17 in your head, which happens in this business.

Yeah, and I am. I don’t feel any different than when I pulled out of the driveway and took off. I still have the same love and I’m so drawn to playing music. It’s such a huge part of me. I tell everybody, “My mom’s a hundred and I hope I’m really her son, so I have those genes! For all I know, she might have rented me out of a yard in southern Oklahoma somewhere!” But my dad checked out early. He died at 65 – and I was afraid of being 65. There’s so many instances of people passing at the same age as their parents and whatnot.

I’ve heard from others that it’s a strange feeling when you reach the age when a parent passed.

Absolutely. But my dad drank a lot, he smoked two packs a day, and he didn’t take very good care of himself. I don’t think I have too many of those qualities. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. I eat bad, but that’s about it.

You’ve stated many times that your goal was always to be a recording musician. With reality shows and social media, do young players have that same goal, or is a lot of it about chasing clicks and stardom? Are you concerned about the future of musicianship?

No, because there are plenty of young kids out there that can play their brains out. There’s so many of them that you don’t worry about it. I tell people all the time, “If American Idol was on in 1948, Little Jimmy Dickens would’ve been on it.” I don’t really care for those shows – and not in a bad way, because a lot of talented people go on them – but sadly, you don’t see that really bear out with a lot of artists coming from those shows that have longevity. They have that moment, but we’re so ready to slide our thumb and move on to the next scrolling thing. It’s the same way with those shows: “The season’s over. Okay, who are the new ones?” And I never like seeing creativity be a contest.

But I don’t worry too much. You see someone like Sierra Hull, who can play better than anybody in the whole world, and Michael Cleveland, and so many that come along that can completely annihilate their instruments. It’s beautiful to watch. I don’t think that’ll ever go away.

Does AI-created “music” concern you?

Of course, but when I’m asked about it, I say, “The people who create it, deep down, they know they haven’t done anything. They know they’ve done nothing.”

As a recording and performing guitarist, singer, and songwriter over a lot of years, how has your approach changed? Your technique, your picking style, your ear, your tone?

It’s a combination of all of those things. I’ve spent the latter years realizing what I don’t need, what I don’t need to do, what I don’t need to play, what I don’t need to sing, what I don’t need to say in the lyrics. To me, the beauty of it is your willingness to try to say the most with the least.

I like my singing better now than I did when I had hits. I much prefer the way I sing and play my songs today. That’s motivation enough, that I feel like I’m better now than I ever was. My ears have never lied to me, and with that, if I feel like I’m making progress, that’s all the reason in the world to keep doing it. If I start wheezing like an old woman, I probably won’t wanna go out there and sing. But, thank God, that hasn’t happened yet,

With music, the more you do it, the more you learn. The point of it is not to impress, but to move people. If you can move people with what you play and sing and write, that’s the real gift. That’s when you really get something that matters out of it, rather than a big “Woo, that was incredible! That was impressive.” That’s fleeting in a way. I like the long haul.

I could have very easily stopped working on other people’s records and being a sideman and a harmony singer and guitar player and what have you. But I love doing that so much, because I always thought it was a harder job to complement somebody and what they’re doing, more so than doing what you want and having everybody follow you. It took more talent to do that – better ears, bigger ears, that kind of stuff. So I continue to do that. I’ve worked on over a thousand artists’ records in the last 50 years. The diversity of that, the willingness to go into any kind of world of music and try, and not just be shortsighted and only do this and only do that – I love all of it. I’ll find something good in any of it. If I can play a part in making something better that’s being done, then that’s a good feeling.

Can you draw a through line from your bluegrass roots to what you’ve done and what you do now?

“When I Call Your Name” wouldn’t have sounded like it did had I not played bluegrass. That high lonesome sound was totally taken out of my love and life of bluegrass. A song on one of my new records [Secondhand Smoke, EP 2] is called “Hill People,” with [harmony vocalist] John Meador – great singer, great player, it just blows my mind how good he is. That sounds the way it does, it was written the way it was, because of my history of bluegrass.

I was never one of those guys that [would say], “I can only play bluegrass and it has to be traditional.” I loved New Grass Revival. They were different than Bill Monroe and I loved it all. If you take whatever’s great about something and cast the rest aside, then you’ve done your job. I’m not critical of young people that don’t do it the way I did it, or the way my heroes did it. That doesn’t serve anybody any good, to be critical of stuff. I remember hearing Billy Strings talk about how he would go to jam sessions and felt unwelcomed, and that killed me. I felt so bad for him.

I experienced that once when I was 17. We were playing some bluegrass festival, a hardcore traditional-minded festival. We were up there playing “Rocky Road Blues,” which is a Bill Monroe song, but we were doing it real bluesy. The promoters kicked us out of the festival and said, “You can’t be playing that kind of music!”

As they were kicking us out, Jim & Jesse were playing Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” I said, “Now wait a minute. We’re playing a Bill Monroe song and we’re going to get kicked out, and they’re playing ‘Johnny B. Goode’ by Chuck Berry? What’s cool about that?” They go, “Their suits match. Get outta here!”

I’ve known Sam Bush for 50-something years. The story he tells about Monroe is that he said, “What is it you call that music you play?” Sam said, “We call it New Grass.” He goes, “Yeah, I hate that.” That kills me, but it didn’t impact Sam one bit. But that hardline thing – I don’t go for it.

You’ve said that the role of the artist is to speak for others. Are there songs that speak for you, or to you, in those moments?

I like the things that are the most honest, that are not trying to be something they’re not. I’m not a fan of singers that alter the sound of their voice to make it do something it doesn’t naturally do. I heard Merle Haggard say, “Man, just tell the truth.” That’s where I’m finding the biggest inspiration in songs is being truthful. I think the truth has always been the greatest thing you can lean on.

People talk about country music, and if you could point somebody to what you think country music is, I’d say Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried.” How it starts– “I turned 21 in prison doing life without parole.” That’s pretty dark. That’s pretty sad. And then, “No one could steer me right, but Mama tried.” There’s your hope.

One thing they’ve never taken away from me is hope. Even though they quit playing my records on radio stations and I don’t have hits anymore, I’m always hopeful that something will slide through and move people. I had hope when I made my first record at 16 or 17 years old, and lo and behold, some radio station played it and I heard it in my pickup truck. That instilled a hope in me that’s never faded. They can pass on songs, they can not play them, they can do all that, but they have never dinged my hope in my heart for what it is that I want to try to do.

Where were you in your truck when you heard yourself on the radio for the first time?

I-40, Oklahoma City. I was driving and all of a sudden they started playing “July You’re a Woman.” It’s a John Stewart song and we’d done a bluegrass version of it. I was singing lead. I think some other bluegrassers had done that same song. I’m driving and all of a sudden they started playing it on the radio station and I get on the CB radio and start screaming, “You’re not going to believe it! They’re playing our record on the radio!” Truckers were coming back saying, “Hey, you sound good, kid! Hang in there.” Wow.

The first record I ever made, I heard on the radio. It put that dose of hope in me that has never faded.

Editor’s Note: Read part two of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

Want more Good Country? Sign up to receive our monthly email newsletter – and much more music! – direct to your inbox.

Photo Credit: David McClister

Sex, Drugs, and
Country Music

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

Carter Faith
Carter Faith

Rolling Stone describes young country phenom Carter Faith as “a bright light for the future of country” – but she’s definitely illuminating the genre in the present! Her debut full length album, Cherry Valley, released earlier this month, displaying in full her gritty, fun, down-to-earth, and modern brand of Good Country.

Ghost Hounds
Ghost Hounds

Something special is happening with Ghost Hounds, a Pittsburgh Americana outfit combining blues, rock and roll, alt-country, soul, and much more. Their latest album, Almost Home, features the group’s new lead singer and frontman, SAVNT; a lineup change isn’t foiling this dynamic band, it’s building their momentum. They just made their Grand Ole Opry debut this week!

Vince Gill
Vince Gill

Perhaps our first repeat Ed’s Pick, but Vince Gill is always Good Country, right? The singer-picker-Country Hall of Famer-Eagles vocalist just announced a new series of EPs celebrating his lifelong career in music. The series, titled 50 Years From Home, begins with its first EP, I Gave You Everything I Had, today. We’re so grateful for all the years, all the music, and all you’ve given all of us, Vince!

Nick Shoulders
Nick Shoulders

Singer-songwriter-artist and Gar Hole Records co-proprietor Nick Shoulders is the real deal. He’s part of a broad movement of country musicians recentering the industry, its stakeholders, and its fans so the music better reflects all of the kinds of folks who love it. If you like Good Country that sticks it to the man, seeks justice, imagines a better world, and still sounds like “Grampa Music,” look out for his upcoming album, Refugia Blues (out October 31).

MORGXN
MORGXN

From Broadway in NYC to Lower Broadway in Nashville, MORGXN has done it all, but we find the singer-songwriter-performer thriving as he “reclaims his Nashville roots,” subverts expectations of musical and cultural stereotypes of country, and unabashedly celebrates queerness – especially so on his new twangy EP, Heartland: Part II. More MORGXNs like this in country, please and thank you.

Want more Good Country? Sign up to receive our monthly email newsletter – and much more music! – direct to your inbox.

Photo Credits: Carter Faith by Bree Marie Fish; Ghost Hounds courtesy of the artist; Vince Gill by David McClister; Nick Shoulders by Shelby Merry; MORGXN by Gabriel Starner.

Jaelee Roberts Is the CEO of Super Lonesome Songs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I seriously love sad songs and it’s honestly so hard to keep this Mixtape short. Every time I think I’m done, I remember another song that deserves a spot. Some songs are perfect for those late-night lonely vibes, while others hit harder on a rainy day. I just think sad music has this special kind of beauty that happy songs can’t match. It’s dramatic, emotional, and somehow comforting at the same time.

Honestly, this Mixtape feels more like a mood diary than just a list of songs. Even now, I know I’ve left off some that should be here which means I’ll probably end up making a “Part 2.” At this point I might as well admit I’m the CEO of sad playlists. But hey – you can never really have too many sad songs, right? – Jaelee Roberts

“Desperado” – The Eagles

“Desperado” is a song that has grabbed me by my heart strings for my whole life. The melody alone just has that sad and lonesome feel that I love so much. A line in the lyrics that always jumps out at me is, “You better let somebody love you before it’s too late.” That grabs my heart in the best way.

“Marie” – Blue Moon Rising

The first time I heard this song it stopped me in my tracks. The way Keith Garrett sings it is absolutely the epitome of lonesome. The song is about a man struggling his entire life to make ends meet and finally he gets a glimpse of happiness through a woman he meets, Marie, and she and their unborn baby pass away. Townes Van Zandt’s lyrics paint a heartbreaking picture of poverty and loss.

“He Stopped Loving Her Today” – George Jones

George Jones is my all-time favorite and this is an obvious choice, but such an important one! This song has often been called “the saddest country song of all time” and I might just have to agree with that. A short explanation is that a man lost the love of his life and he was never able to get over her until he passed away – that’s when he finally stopped loving her. That is absolutely gut-wrenching, but I am obsessed with the song and love it so much.

“I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” – Hank Williams

I am a huge Hank Williams fan and I have always listened to this song when feeling sad. The way his voice almost cries when he sings it just gets me in my heart and feelings every time I hear it. I am a bit of a country music history nerd and I study a lot about the lives of my heroes and learning about him and this song – the lyrics are so sad and hit even harder when you get into the story behind writing the song. He wrote it after he and his wife Audrey split up amongst his struggles with addiction… it’s heartbreaking.

“Are You Lonesome Tonight” – Elvis Presley

I have loved this song since I was a little girl. Elvis was my first love and I can remember this song being one of the first songs to ever make my heart feel sad. I was just a little kid and thinking, “Oh my goodness, is he okay?” The cry and emotion in his voice is so tragically beautiful and it’s a go-to sad song when I need to hear one. The lyrics are so sad. When you hear his voice say, “…And if you won’t come back to me, they can bring the curtain down…” it breaks my heart every time.

“Lonesome Town” – Ricky Nelson

The first time I heard this song I was hooked. The melody, the lyrics, his hauntingly sad voice made my heart hurt in the way you want it to hurt when listening to a sad song. I really love this song!

“Both Sides Now” – Joni Mitchell

This song is filled with the most beautiful imagery. It’s about viewing love one way and then having your heart broken and seeing love a different way – seeing it “from both sides now.” It’s such a perfectly crafted song and Joni’s voice is so sad and raw on this track.

“Let Me Be Lonely” – Jaelee Roberts

When I first heard this song I knew I had to record it. If you can’t tell, sad songs are my absolute favorite songs and this one hit me hard. I am so honored I got to sing this one. I love the way that it all came together with the way the fiddle sounds so sad and then accompanied by the crying steel guitar (my favorite sound in the world). I love the harmonies that the writers of this song, Kelsi Harrigill and Wyatt McCubbin added. It just completed the lonesome feeling. My favorite lyric in the song is the opening line: “Don’t come knockin’ on the door/ That smile’s not welcome here anymore.”

“Chasing Cars” – Snow Patrol

I actually first heard this song during a heartbreaking scene of one of my favorite TV shows and I remember feeling so sad. Every time I hear this song I feel like I’m in a sad music video. Lyrically, the song is just so great. I love the chorus when it comes in strong and says, “If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

“Manhattan” – Sara Bareilles

I am a huge Sara Bareilles fan and this song has always had a hold on me. It’s one of the first songs that made me want to play piano. Her voice and the piano work together to make such a beautifully sad song. The song is about finding love, sharing their lives together in Manhattan, and letting that other person have that special place when the relationship ends. The way it’s written is just genius, really.

“Weekend In New England” – Barry Manilow

The melody of this song is what first caught my ear’s attention and then Barry starts singing and it’s just so beautiful. I have loved this song since I was just a young girl and have always listened to it when I feel sad. It’s just a classic sad song and you cannot go wrong with listening to it over and over.

“Heartbreaker” – Dolly Parton

I can still remember sitting in the backseat of our car in the driveway at home – small enough that I wasn’t allowed in the front seat yet. My mom would turn on WSM and we’d sit there together listening to the Grand Ole Opry until it was over. I’ll never forget one night when Little Jimmy Dickens had just finished his segment and the Opry signed off. The DJ came on playing music and that’s when it happened – Dolly Parton’s “Heartbreaker” came on. In that moment, my world stood still. I had never felt so heartbreakingly sad from a song, yet so completely happy at the same time. It was the first time music truly hit me that hard and it’s stayed with me ever since. “Heartbreaker, couldn’t you be just a little more kind to me?” So, so good.

“Misery and Gin” – Merle Haggard

This is another song that I have loved as long as I can remember. The music and melody starts off and then you hear Merle’s voice come in singing, “Memories and drinks don’t mix too well/ Jukebox records don’t play those wedding bells…” What a perfectly sad scenario! Merle Haggard is one of my favorites and could sing anything and make it sound sad, which I love so, so very much. This song is so lonely, but so beautiful and the lyrics are everything a sad lonesome song should be.

“Cry In The Rain” – Jaelee Roberts

This song is so beautifully written. Penned by two incredible songwriters – Billy Droze and Chris Myers – it tells a sad story about being heartbroken over someone, but refusing to let them see your tears. Instead, you hide your pain and only let yourself cry in the rain. I really love this image – it’s sad, strong, and poetic all at once. To me, that’s what makes the song so special. I feel truly honored to have had the chance to record it and tell the story in my own voice.

“Between an Old Memory and Me” – Keith Whitley

Keith Whitley had a way of singing that made you feel every single word, as if he lived inside the stories he told in his songs. In this song especially, when he sings the line, “I don’t want to talk about it, why can’t they just let me be?” you can literally hear the raw desperation and aching sadness in the cry of his voice. It’s lonesome, it’s haunting, and it’s heartbreak wrapped in melody. I love this song with my whole heart – it’s everything I admire about Keith Whitley’s music.

Photo Credit: Ava Renee Photography

Country Pickers, Center Stage

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: Sign up here to receive Good Country issues when they launch, direct to your email inbox via Substack.)

Double-, triple-, quadruple-threats are not uncommon in country music, not in the least. It’s a frequent occurrence, tripping over or into a country artist that’s a songwriter, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, writer, thinker, and so much more. In fact, until more recent decades, wearing many hats was seen as a sort of prerequisite to making hillbilly music. After all, this is “just” country music, it’s got a wide and deep DIY tradition, and the folks who make it often have to also load in the gear, sell the merch, post on social media, and produce the albums, play the demos and scratch tracks, write the lyrics, and otherwise steer the creative ship.

Some of the most successful artists and most original voices in country music are perfect examples of how multifaceted skill sets translate directly to star power. You may not need to be a Telecaster shredder to make it onto the radio or you may not need to be able to pick like Mother Maybelle to make a living, but if you can back up your songs with mighty playing, it certainly translates with audiences.

From Chet Atkins, Dolly Parton, and Wanda Jackson to Charlie Daniels, Willie Nelson, and Bonnie Raitt, here are just a few legendary examples of hugely successful country artists who are or were excellent musicians and instrumentalists, too.

Chet Atkins

A record company executive, producer, and pioneer of the “Nashville Sound,” Chet Atkins was also a one-of-a-kind guitar picker, renowned across the globe for his unique style – which was inspired by Merle Travis. Atkins certainly made “Travis picking” his own, arguably eclipsing all of his predecessors and continuing to influence guitarists today. An inductee of the Country Music, Rock and Roll, and Musicians’ Halls of Fame, Atkins’ impact is hard to understate and his resume includes work with Dolly Parton, Elvis Presley, Hank Snow, Waylon Jennings, and countless others.

DeFord Bailey

One of the first superstars of the Grand Ole Opry, DeFord Bailey was a world-class harmonica player who was also the first Black performer on WSM’s fabled stage. Some sources also credit Bailey as being the first musician to record music in Nashville. However you approach his career and music, Bailey was a seismic presence in the earliest days of country. Born in 1899, Bailey faced constant racism, bigotry, and marginalization on the Opry, in Nashville, and as he traveled and performed. He passed away in 1982 and was posthumously inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2005.

Glen Campbell

Even at the highest heights of Glen Campbell’s superstardom, he refused to let his superlative instrumental skill take a backseat to his roles as frontman, songwriter, Hollywood actor, TV star, and tabloid veteran. Campbell’s approach to country music as a true multi-hyphenate celebrity bridged generations, connecting the hardscrabble, DIY generations where multiple skills were necessary to make a living to the modern era, where he helped pave a way for famously multi-talented picker/singer/writers like Vince Gill and Brad Paisley to not be pigeonholed as one thing or the other.

Ray Charles

Any conversation around or collection of superlative country pickers and musicians would be glaringly incomplete without the inclusion of Ray Charles. His incursions and experimentations in country music are many and infamous. His 1962 album, Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music is routinely listed as one of the best country albums of all time. He’s worked with and performed with Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Ricky Skaggs, Travis Tritt, Johnny Cash, Glen Campbell, and many, many more. Plus, his country forays demonstrate a deep, holistic understanding of the genre. Charles is a quintessential country multi-hyphenate and country-soul in the modern era would feel especially lacking without his seminal contributions to that tradition.

Charlie Daniels

It’s hard not to wonder what young, hippie, “long-haired,” Vietnam War-opposing fiddler Charlie Daniels would have thought of his older self, and his more harebrained and often hateful beliefs later in life. But the controversial and outspoken musician, at all points of his career, was a picker’s picker. Over the course of his life he performed and recorded with Earl Scruggs, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and many more. But his chief contribution to American roots music may just be his fiery, unhinged fiddling on “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Just wander down Lower Broadway in Nashville on any given Saturday night to feel the impact of that particular show-stopper. In this clip, he chats and performs “Uncle Pen” with Scruggs and Del McCoury.

Vince Gill

That buttery voice, that stank-face inducing chicken pickin’, that high, lonesome sound – Vince Gill is all at once country and bluegrass, Nashville and Oklahoma, western swing and old-time fiddle. Whether with The Eagles, preeminent pedal steel guitarist Paul Franklin, the Time Jumpers, or so many other outfits, bands, and iterations, Gill is simply right at home. Because, at his core, he’s just a picker. He may play arenas, but he knows he belongs at 3rd & Lindsley or the Station Inn. Or Bluegrass Nights at the Ryman. A quintessential picker-singer-frontman, Gill continues to define the myriad ways country stars can maintain their selfhood and personality – instrumentally and otherwise – even in their wild successes.

Merle Haggard

Speaking of chicken pickin’, country’s most famous Okie was a shredder, too. A sad song, a glass of (misery and) gin, a Telecaster, and the Hag – that’s all we need, right there. Merle’s playing style, even at its most technical and impressive, was simple and down to earth. You could tell he cut his teeth playing bars, fairs, and honky tonks. You could almost hear him pulling himself up by his bootstraps as he played.

Wanda Jackson

The Queen of Rockabilly has been slaying rock and roll, hillbilly music, and the guitar for more than seventy years. In 2021 she released her final album, Encore, when she was 84 years old. It features her signature passion and fire – and performances by Elle King, Joan Jett, Angaleena Presley, and more. Jackson has been representing the vital contributions of women to rockabilly and rock and roll for her entire career, just as often commanding the stage with her growly, entrancing voice and her powerful right hand.

Willie Nelson

Who would Willie Nelson be without Trigger? Without a tasty, less-is-more, nylon-string guitar solo? For decades, Nashville, Music Row, and guitar players around the world have been emulating his particular sound as a guitarist – whether they know it or not. Sure, he’s a hit songwriter, a star and front-person, a collaborator of Snoop Dogg and Frank Sinatra, and a connoisseur of fine bud, but perhaps more than all of these accomplishments, Willie is an impeccable picker. He can hold his own with the best of the best, because he is the best of the best.

Brad Paisley

Brad Paisley’s fame crested at perhaps the perfect time for him in country music, combining a rip-roarin’ guitar playing style with a sound that was entirely trad while carrying touches of the bro country wave that was about to inundate the genre. As such, he was able to build a career on the diversity of his skill set, before Music Row and the power behind it began prioritizing music that didn’t need to be musical and voices that didn’t need to be singular. Luckily, Paisley is both those things and more, and despite the many eyebrow raising moments across his career, our faces more often show shock at his mind-bending skill as a guitarist than anything else.

Dolly Parton

How is it that Dolly Parton can play so many instruments so impeccably with those iconic acrylic nails!? Nowadays, you are just as likely to hear Dolly performing to a track – yes, she does lip sync and pantomime playing along with recordings – but don’t get it twisted, she absolutely can play a passel of instruments from her beloved “mountain music” traditions. She plays guitar, banjo, auto-harp, dulcimer, and has even been known to pick up a bedazzled saxophone from time to time – though we can’t guarantee she actually knows how to play that one, we’re still blown away.

And what about thatone viral video with Patti LaBellewhere they play their acrylics like washboards? Dolly can make music with just about any instrument.

Bonnie Raitt

How many people do you think enjoy Bonnie Raitt’s soulful blues and Southern rock sounds without knowing she’s also often the one playing the guitar solos and making that bottleneck slide weep? Raitt is a Grammy winning songwriter, a fantastic vocalist and song interpreter/collector, and – above all, in this writer’s opinion – a superb guitar picker, especially playing slide. She can hold her own with just about anyone, and she has. Her phrasing and use of melodic space demonstrates that she’s been honing her craft for her entire life. That taste can’t be taught, it has to be found. Boy, has she found it.

Marty Stuart

Marty Stuart’s long, fabulous, superlative career began with him filling the role of sideman for such luminaries as Lester Flatt, Johnny Cash, Vassar Clements, and Doc Watson. He plays guitar and mandolin, working up his chops as a youngster with pickers like Roland White as his mentors. When his solo career took off after his Columbia debut in the mid-eighties, his ear for fine picking remained present throughout his music – however far afield from those early bluegrass and country days he may have traveled, stylistically. Whether bringing in psychedelic surf sounds or Indigenous flavors of the American West, Stuart’s catalog of music centers virtuosity that’s never gratuitous. And his band, the Fabulous Superlatives, featuring crack guitarist Kenny Vaughan and multi-instrumentalist Chris Scruggs, represent a high level of picking prowess, too.

Tedeschi Trucks Band

By many measures, Derek Trucks is the world’s foremost living slide guitarist, but don’t overlook powerhouse vocalist and co-band leader, Susan Tedeschi in order to venerate Trucks! Both started playing as youngsters – Trucks when he was a kid and Tedeschi when she attended Berklee College of Music. These two are guitar and blues royalty, helming one of the most impactful modern blues and Southern rock orchestras on the planet. They’re consummate musicians, knowing just how to surround themselves by players who support and challenge, both. Even with their laundry list of personal accomplishments, together, Tedeschi & Trucks – who are also married – are so much greater than the sum of their parts.

Keith Urban

Keith Urban brings a scruffy, down to earth guitar playing style to his polished and glam mainstream country sound. Yes, even as far away as Australia, having instrumental chops means having country currency. When he moved to Nashville in the early ‘90s, with a few Australian radio hits and awards under his belt, he immediately found work as a side musician and co-writer in Music City. It wasn’t long until his star ascended stateside, too – and then, as quickly, around the world – bolstered by arena-ready guitar. Now readying his first album since 2020, Urban shows no signs of slowing down, with the music or the picking!

Photo of Glen Campbell courtesy of the artist.

Editor’s Note: Sign up here to receive Good Country issues when they launch, direct to your email inbox via Substack.

Alison Brown: Record Label Founder and Bluegrass “Lifer”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When a craftsman pauses to reflect, students of all skill levels benefit from the lesson. Alison Brown’s latest album, On Banjo, released May 5 on Compass Records and is a masterclass; it’s also a study on where the instrument has been and where it’s going.

Brown is a Compass co-founder and a GRAMMY Award-winning artist and producer. A self-described “lifer” in the bluegrass community and an IBMA “First Lady of Bluegrass,” she eagerly explores what the five-stringed instrument can do outside typical genre parameters. The new record is packed with star-studded duets with comedian Steve Martin, mandolin player and fellow First Lady of Bluegrass Sierra Hull, and fiddle legend Stuart Duncan.

The result is a varied, rich track list we couldn’t wait to ask Brown about.

BGS: Let’s walk through some of the tracks and collaborations on On Banjo. What kind of music inspired the duet with Anat Cohen?

AB: Anat Cohen is a clarinetist; she was born in Israel and lives in New York, but she’s well-known in jazz circles for Brazilian choro. I actually watched lots of videos of Anat on YouTube.

I reached out. I said “I know we don’t know each other, but would you consider doing this?”

What’s it like working with a famous comedian like Steve Martin in a musical context?

I’ve had the good fortune to go out and do some shows with him and Martin Short. There’s inevitably some time to jam in the dressing room, so it’s fun to play with Steve in that context, too.

Steve’s a great banjo player with a really beautiful touch and a delicate, sweet tone. He loves playing in double C tuning. Banjo players usually tune to a G, but you can drop the fourth string to a C and tune the second [string] up to a C. It’s an old tuning that clawhammer guys use a lot.

The way “Foggy Mountain Breaking,” came about is I wrote the A section. It was during the pandemic. I asked Steve, “Do you wanna write a B part?” He sent me a perfect B section 24 hours later. We figured out a bridge together. It’s named after a lyric in a John Hartford song and is obviously a riff on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

How does it feel to work with younger bluegrass talents like Sierra Hull? Is it gratifying to have a feminine duo on that track?

I wrote that tune hoping Sierra would be up for learning and recording it with me. I’m a huge fan of her mandolin playing; she’s another one with such a delicate touch. Her fingers just really dance over the fingerboard.

It required her to play every fret on the first string of the mandolin and she did it flawlessly. She said she’d never had a chance to work on such complicated music with another woman. So it’s a really special thing. It’s always a delight to play with Sierra, but to do a duet with her was like chocolate and more chocolate.

How do you balance two strong, independent main instruments like banjo and fiddle together, such as with Stuart Duncan?

Banjo and fiddle are just so complementary. They say a banjo and fiddle make a band, and they do.

I’ve known Stuart since he was 11 and I was 12. We go way back. And on this tune I want to give a tip of the hat to Byron Berline and John Hickman. Growing up in Southern California when we did in the ’70s, those two were the guys that everybody worshiped at the feet of. I wanted to try and capture some of that spirit, and I wanted to do it with Stuart.

Who is this album for, and what do you hope listeners take away from it?

That’s the existential question of the banjo player. And it is a bit of a challenge when you take the five-string banjo and go somewhere else with it. Earl Scruggs perpetuated a style and brought it to the masses that was just so electric. Most people think that’s all the banjo does and they don’t worry about its history before that. There’s a lot of voices inside the instrument; the bluegrass one has become the loudest one most recently.

It’s so interesting because at the beginning of the 1800s the banjo was found on plantations. Then white people appropriated that music in minstrel shows, performing in blackface. It’s deep in terms of what it says about our history and America’s original sin.
It went from being a Black instrument to being a white lady’s instrument. The Black voice of the instrument and the female voice of the instrument were both disenfranchised. There are gorgeous old photos of women in the 1890s holding banjos, and there were female banjo orchestras. I’m excited to see that re-emerging.

You started Compass Records with Garry West almost three decades ago. What’s on the horizon, and what are your goals?

All the labels were run by business people, not musicians. We said, “Why can’t musicians run a label for other artists?”

The other part is really wanting to build a label that can have a cultural impact and Garry and I are both invested in roots music. I’ve been a member of the bluegrass community since about 10 years old. I’m a lifer. The whole economy of the record business has been turned upside down and stirred and shaken eight times. We want to make sure this music not only survives but thrives into the future.

You mentioned growing up in SoCal. How is bluegrass there different from Appalachia?

There would be Eagles’ songs in set lists. It was wide open. When I first came east with Stuart and his dad, we drove around and did the festivals in 1978 or so, but it was rooted in the first generation bands’ repertoire.

On that trip we entered a band contest in Oklahoma and we played something we learned from a Richard Green record. It was a funky fiddle thing in E. I remember somebody coming up afterwards and saying “We don’t appreciate you knocking the music.”

What did you learn while making On Banjo?

The deep dive to find new melodies, and that process of discovery of the instrument, is the process of self-discovery. You get to the end and it teaches you something new about yourself.

Photo Credit: Russ Harrington

LISTEN: Darren Nicholson, “Southern Ground”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Darren Nicholson
Hometown: Haywood County, North Carolina
Song: “Southern Ground”
Album: Man On a Mission
Release Date: November 26, 2021
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “The ‘Southern Ground’ title came from the relationship we had with Zac Brown Band and John Driskell Hopkins. I just thought it would make a neat song title. It tells a story of a guy who’s moved away from home, he’s in the city, he’s in a relationship that doesn’t work out and just like The Eagles talked about, sometimes the city girls break your heart and you’ve just got to head home and regroup. It’s probably one of my favorite melodies on my album, Man On a Mission, and musically it sticks out to me because it’s just got that great brushy rhythm that I love. It’s reminiscent of something maybe Glen Campbell would’ve done in his heyday and I love the arrangement and the chords. It’s one of the prettier, haunting melodies on the record but it still has that movement to it.” — Darren Nicholson

Crossroads Label Group · 02 Southern Ground

Photo credit: Jeff Smith

MIXTAPE: David Starr’s Road Trip Touchstones

Posted on by Editor

“The idea of a road trip Mixtape really appealed to me after so many months off the road. While I truly enjoy playing in front of an audience, there is easily as much anticipation around just ‘getting on the road’ in this business. Most of my travels have been in a small motorhome over the past five years. The whole process of loading the gear, packing up merch, and stocking the fridge is something I really miss during this prolonged pandemic pause. Music is always an integral part of that process. One of my favorite memories from a road trip into Utah was listening to Bruce Springsteen’s Western Stars album as the desert road stretched out before us. Something truly American about the whole experience.” — David Starr

Jackson Browne – “These Days”

This Jackson Browne classic has always been a favorite of mine. He wrote it when he was only 16 years old and it shows a maturity and depth rarely expressed so well by a young songwriter. It speaks of self-reflection, looking back and moving forward all at the same time.

Bruce Springsteen – “Western Stars”

The title cut from Bruce Springsteen’s recent record is an epic road trip song. I loved the song when I first heard it. But when I listened to it while cruising across the Utah desert in our motorhome, the song really moved me. The whole album passes that same test, by the way.

Don Henley – “Boys of Summer”

Don Henley and Mike Campbell really captured the essence of lost romance and the change of seasons in this one. I can’t help turning the radio way up when this one comes on!

The Cars – “Drive”

My favorite Cars song. Ben Orr’s vocal is so moving here. And the music video released for it at the time, directed by Timothy Hutton, added context to the meaning of the song.

Joni Mitchell – “Coyote”

Joni Mitchell is always road trip favorite. Plenty of time to absorb the intricacies of the songs. “Coyote” physically moves us down the road with a cast of characters. This song from her 1976 album Hejira rocks along with a killer Jaco Pastorius bass line fueling the ride.

The Rolling Stones – “Brown Sugar”

Stones? Of course! I played this song a couple hundred times as a singing cover band drummer in my youth. Always fun to watch the dance floor fill up immediately upon kicking it off. Something about that intro and the feel just propels a road trip playlist!

The Tubes – “Talk To Ya Later”

This classic Tubes song is another one with a power intro that just cannot be denied. Fee Waybill wails and Toto’s Steve Lukather kills it on guitar. Watch your right foot on this one; you might just pick up speed!

Melissa Etheridge – “You Can Sleep While I Drive”

Melissa Etheridge sings of true love and tenderness on a true road trip. This one works especially well as the sun sets on a long Texas straightaway at about 55 mile per hour. Slow down and soak it in.

Daryl Hall and John Oates – “You Make My Dreams (Come True)”

This Daryl Hall and John Oates classic hit is good for the star of any road trip! Full of energy and another intro that simply cannot be denied. Great background vocal parts for that front seat sing-along, too!

Little Feat – “Dixie Chicken/Tripe Face Boogie”

It’s gotta be Little Feat’s live Waiting for Columbus version with this one. It literally chugs along in the funky slow lane until the pace picks up and takes off into the second tune. Good for getting you through Waco traffic and back out onto the four-lane!

Toto – “Running Out of Time”

The opening track from Toto XIV will put the pedal to the metal without fail. I put this song on coming out of LA into the desert headed for Vegas and was stunned at my speedometer reading. A slamming good road song!

Jackson Browne – “Running on Empty”

Another Jackson Browne classic that simply has to be on a road trip playlist. The whole record was recorded on the road and the immediacy can be felt on the song. David Lindley’s lap steel soars on this one. Highly recommended!

Eagles – “Take It Easy”

The Eagles version of the Glenn Frey/Jackson Browne hit is a must. This one has launched a thousand road trips. And the chorus and outro are top-down, Ray-Ban naturals for a summer sing-along!

Joni Mitchell – “Help Me”

Joni Mitchell nostalgia pick here. This song was on the radio every morning when I worked a grueling summer construction job back in the day. We’d rise up after a long night gigging in the bars and this song would set us on our way for the 30-minute drive to the site. Help me indeed!

The Band – “The Weight”

No playlist is complete without a Band song on it. Having known Levon personally, it’s always bittersweet to hear “The Weight.” This song is all about a pilgrim’s journey and seeking something; isn’t that what all road trips are about in some way? Enjoy the ride.

Photo credit: Jeff Fasano

New Grass Revival: Four Members Look Back on Their ’80s Albums (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

A beloved band that was perhaps ahead of its time, New Grass Revival will be inducted into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame during the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards on October 1. In the second half of our oral history with New Grass Revival, we hear from band members Sam Bush, John Cowan, Béla Fleck and Pat Flynn. Read the first half of the interview, which is part of our celebration of the 75th anniversary of bluegrass.

In 1981, founding members Courtney Johnson (who died in 1996) and Curtis Burch left the band after a long tour with rock ‘n’ roll star Leon Russell. As a result, New Grass Revival began its newest incarnation with Béla Fleck and Pat Flynn.

Sam Bush: Courtney and Curtis were older than me and John and they were just burned out. We had worked harder on the road with Leon than we’d ever worked in our lives.

Pat Flynn: New Grass Revival had established a following on the circuit in the late ’70s, but Leon Russell had sucked them into his orbit and taken them away from the bluegrass world. So by the time that band [lineup] broke up, they really had to start over.

SB: I had met Béla in a band he played in called Tasty Licks, and Béla had hired me as the fiddler on his first album, Crossing the Tracks.

PF: Béla was a smart kid. He thought, “If I’m going to come out with a solo album and nobody knows who I am, why don’t I hire high-profile people to play on it?” That’s a smart move!

Béla Fleck: I liked the original band when I heard it, but I admit I was attracted to smoother and jazzier stuff at the time. I have matured a bit since then and now I am a huge fan of the early band, their bravery and iconoclastic spirit, and a poetic expression of their time and place. They were committed to the moment and improvising, and taking the music to a new place that resonated with a lot of folks who loved bluegrass, but it didn’t totally represent them.

SB: Pat and his friend Scott Myers had opened for New Grass Revival on the Colorado tours we did. We loved his guitar playing because it wasn’t like the bluegrass players. He was a rock electric guitar player that could do it on acoustic.

PF: I’d moved from Los Angeles to Aspen, Colorado, and got to know the band at Telluride. Sam had a hand in writing some songs, but they really didn’t have an in-house songwriter. I had always written songs for the bands I was in. And Béla brought a unique and original instrumental vision. So all of a sudden you had two new people that could supply original material.

SB: They were the two musicians who could bring the next step of another sound for us. I called Garth [Fundis, the band’s producer] and said, “You’ve got to come hear these new pickers we’ve got, this is something, this is really good.” I knew it was too hot for me to handle — I didn’t feel I was qualified to produce the four of us. We needed another ear, an outside opinion, because we had so many ideas between the four of us.

PF: On the Boulevard was the first album we released in the US, but we’d done a live album in France almost a full year prior. Technically Live in Toulouse was the first album we made as a new band.

JC: We’re playing like a well-oiled machine; it’s really a good record. It has one of Sam’s instrumentals on there called “Sapporo” that might be 11 minutes long!

SB: The idea of “Sapporo” started when the band went to Japan for the first time. It was my favorite city over there; it was also my favorite beer. A mandolin player over there taught me a five-note Japanese scale and that is a recurring riff you hear us play as we jam.

JC: The first year we were together with Béla and Pat, the energy and the love and everything was way up, confidence was high. And On the Boulevard is one of my favorites. There’s no drums, it’s just the four of us.

PF: It was very fresh. I remember the recording sessions at Jack’s Tracks studio in Nashville. We had a decent budget from Sugar Hill, enough to record comfortably and take our time. I experimented with different guitars and arrangements. We were able to bring the music into the magnifying glass of a studio and really look at it in depth.

JC: The dynamic of the band had changed so much, because Béla was already miles ahead of everybody in terms of his ability to play. He practiced all the time. In the old band, I was in charge of shoveling coal into the engine and Sam was flying around on top painting whatever picture he wanted to paint. Courtney and Curtis, they were kind of like myself, advanced support players. But now you’ve got two other players who can play at the same level of Sam. So we could take this train anywhere. We could get off the tracks.

PF: I had brought some songs with me to the band and I was very happy with “On the Boulevard.” I had written it prior to joining. It was pretty much autobiographical. I’d been living in Thousand Oaks, California, and there’s a boulevard that runs through the middle of the Valley, and as I watched it from the window it was like its own little world, a parade of passing people. It was one of the earliest things we worked out.

SB: My songwriting partner Steve Brines had died a sudden death of a heart ailment he didn’t know he had. So Steve was gone and I was still writing instrumentals, but I lost my enthusiasm for songwriting.

PF: I was especially happy with “One of These Trains,” the way the material came out, and the band took to it so naturally. I was encouraged that I was in the right place with the right people. I loved Sam’s instrumental “Indian Hills,” and John did a great blues number called “Just Is.” We were discovering each other’s powers and personalities as musicians and friends. I remember it very fondly. We were struggling for employment to connect with the old fans and that album was a big help — when it came out, we created a pretty big buzz.

SB: Toni Foglesong told her husband Jim, who was the president of Capitol Records Nashville, “I heard a band that makes a sound like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” So, Jim came to hear us and he said, “I want you guys to record. I don’t know how we’re going to sell you but I want you to be yourselves.”

Two studio albums followed: New Grass Revival in 1986, and Hold to a Dream in 1987.

SB: Every time new people joined, we encouraged them to bring their influences into the music. When Pat joined he was influenced by those Southern Californian songwriters like Jackson Browne, and the country-rock Telecaster picking he knew. One song where I specifically hear Pat’s southern rock influence is “In the Middle of the Night,” on the ’86 album.

PF: I was very involved in the country-rock sound like the Eagles and the Flying Burrito Brothers and the songs I wrote were well-fitted for a bluegrass approach. I didn’t have to make adjustments musically or lyrically, just in the area of arrangements. I had to make sure the songs I wrote had great solo spots for the instrumentalists and I had to fit the songs to whoever was singing, either John or Sam. So I started to instinctively shape my material where there was plenty of room for improvisational playing and also good range of vocals for those two.

BF: This band was full of guys with very different musical influences. If you didn’t want to be challenged, it was the wrong place for you. Some folks surround themselves with people that love all the same stuff they do, and that can work too. But in New Grass Revival, we were all into different stuff, which we brought to the band to see if we could get our favorite stuff included.

SB: Béla is a jazz player and when he came in his favorite musician was Chick Corea. I had his records, but they didn’t make so much sense to me until then.

BF: I think my interest in jazz gave me some cool tools to work with in a bluegrass context. I wrote a tune called “Metric Lips” [on Hold to a Dream], which was partly in jig time. I feel like that main melody had some Chick Corea influence. Sam was highly influenced by John McLaughlin and his great bands. One of them was Shakti, a collaboration with Indian musicians. This seemed to encourage his interest and ability in odd meters, which I also was quite fond of exploring. So if you look at “Metric Lips,” you have Irish music, Indian music, and fusion jazz represented, along with some raging bluegrass. It’s puzzling that it actually works, but in my opinion, it does.

PF: When you’re in a bluegrass band, it’s blend or die! You’re cramped inside a van together and you’re sleeping feet to nose. You’re in a very confined space together more than you are with your significant others back at home.

JC: We called our bus The Bread Truck. We’d bought it from a dry cleaning business. It wasn’t like the 36-footers I had in the Doobie Brothers; it was less than half of that, closer to a van.

PF: John slept half the time, I would be reading a book or writing a song, Sam would be listening to reggae or some weird eclectic thing, Béla was always fiddling with a new tune.

BF: For me it’s the intention and commitment to the ideas that make them work in this band. The same ideas might not work for a band that didn’t play so confidently. Of course we loved bluegrass and that was the common denominator. Each guy also played with a savage fervor or intensity, and perhaps that was another denominator.

PF: We could really charge each other up with the solos. We admired each other, and when somebody threw a flaming ball out there it would be a challenge. And in that exchange, gosh, we became so much better players. I remember listening back to tapes and thinking I lifted myself up and above myself. We all did.

BF: The new band with me and Pat was a somewhat cleaned-up version of the band. We still improvised and pushed hard, but we also were going for a supercharged, seamless tightness.

PF: The thing I remember that we developed between the first two albums was a hardcore consistency. We could turn it on and it would just come on full-bore despite whether or not there was a good sound system or the weather was bad or the crowd was sluggish. We could always count on each other to present a united front. There were no weak links. We just locked into that energy and never lost it.

BF: And we made singles for country radio, which is hard to imagine the early group doing.

SB: We knew we were going into a country market, but I think there’s a misconception that Capitol Records changed us, when in fact the change came from us. We were the ones that said, “We’ll try this song,” and maybe we wouldn’t have tried it in the past.

BF: We were still too out there for it to work, but we were trying to take the music closer into the mainstream, and that was bringing a lot of new people into the scene and showing them what bluegrass could produce.

PF: We would laugh about that in a sad way. The jocks would come to us and say, “I love your stuff, I listen to it at home,” and we’d say, “What about playing it on air?!” They’d say “Yeah, but it’s bluegrass….” We finally got “Callin’ Baton Rouge” into the top 40 which opened up a lot of shows and airplay for us. But we ended up disbanding before we could really bring that home.

SB: For our last album, Friday Night in America, Wendy Waldman became our producer and we really tried all kind of things on that. It’s hard for an athlete to know when to stop, but I really think our last record might be our best one.

PF: I saw a deepening musically. John’s vocals had got better and better, but he also doesn’t get the props for his bass playing. He was a terrific player — listen to his work on Friday Night in America, see how he connected the melodies, the tone he got and the way he tied together the four instruments. They would get noticed, but the glue was John.

SB: John and I had been together 15 years and we were burned out. We lived on the road and I was suffering responsibility overload. And we couldn’t possibly accommodate all that Béla was writing, the type of tunes he was writing. I physically couldn’t play them and neither could the rest of us! We all loved each other, but it was time for him to go on, he needed to express himself. Because at that point it’s not about making money, it’s about musical happiness and your satisfaction.

PF: We’d got together in 1981, and we played our last job as a band on New Year’s Eve, the last day of 1989. We were opening for the Grateful Dead at the Oakland Coliseum, 10,000 people inside and 5,000 outside. That night was particularly memorable — on the right side of the stage sitting nearest Béla was Bonnie Raitt, on the left side, near to me, was Jane Fonda — and I’d always thought what a shame we didn’t release that. Years later someone walked up to me and said, “Remember when you guys opened for the Dead?” I said yes. He said, “Have you got a copy of that set?” I said no. He said, “Do you want one?” A tape of our concert had leaked out among the Dead fans. I contacted a friend at Capitol Records and then that set was remastered and released on a two-CD set called Grass Roots, which has stuff you wouldn’t find on our records. It had its rough spots as a live tape, but you’ll hear that energy and visceral connection we had with each other on stage, you sure will.

(Editor’s note: Read part one of our New Grass Revival Bluegrass 75 feature.)

 

LISTEN: The Dillards, “Old Road New Again” Featuring Don Henley

Posted on by Editor

Artist: The Dillards
Hometown: Branson, Missouri
Song: “Old Road New Again” (featuring Don Henley on duet vocal; Herb Pedersen on harmony; Bernie Leadon on banjo)
Album: Old Road New Again
Release Date: August 21, 2020
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “Old Road New Again is a new adventure for The Dillards, who continue to contribute to the music scene. The song is a lyrical history of The Dillards’ appearance in the music and entertainment arena. The talented friends who participated on this project were among the innovators that changed the course of music history.” — Rodney Dillard

“I was a big fan of The Dillards. Wheatstraw Suite was a very influential album in my life. In fact, I drove through a snowstorm to hear them play in Fort Worth back in 1968. They were an interesting band.” — Don Henley

Photo credit: The Dillards