(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.
Photo Credits: Cam by Dennis Leupold; Maya de Vitry by Kaitlyn Raitz; Courtney Hartman by Jo Babb; Kyshona by Anna Haas; The Local Honeys by Erica Chambers; Caroline Spence by Kaitlyn Raitz.
Sarah Kate Morgan is a talent to behold. Hailing from Sharps Chapel, Tennessee, and currently nested in Hindman, Kentucky, Morgan is deeply rooted in Appalachian soil. She stands as a revered singer-songwriter and preeminent authority on the mountain dulcimer, alchemizing all the beauty, richness and sorrows of those blue, grassy hills into music.
With her resonant voice and grounded lyrics, Morgan’s music breathes new life into the histories of Appalachian music. She has performed and/or recorded with other lauded contemporaries, including Tyler Childers, Alice Gerrard and Erynn Marshall & Carl Jones. Additionally, she has a full life beyond performing; Morgan presently serves as the Hindman Settlement School’s Traditional Arts Education Director, where she preserves and teaches Appalachian folk traditions for local youth and community members.
Her latest album, Old Tunes & Sad Songs, perfectly encapsulates what Morgan does best — weaving together a tapestry of traditional roots music with her own original, breathtaking spins. Every listener will emerge edified by Sarah Kate Morgan’s masterful blending of hope, history, and heart.
The bio on your website mentions that your grandfather built your first dulcimer; I would love to hear more about that. Do you come from a lineage of musicians or music makers?
SKM: My great grandfather was named Jolly Morgan — I love that name. The Morgans were from North Carolina, Transylvania County, and the Sylva area. Jolly played the banjo and owned a general store. My grandfather on my dad’s side built a dulcimer when he retired after working most of his life at the ALCOA steel plant in Maryville, Tennessee. When he retired, he picked up oil painting and played the harmonica a little bit. Another one of the things he dabbled in was woodworking, and he built a dulcimer. It ended up not being the best instrument ever. He actually put it together backwards, so like, the headstock was on the opposite end of the instrument.
So you learned how to play on a backwards dulcimer?
Kinda sorta, it really didn’t affect that much — it just had to be tuned at the opposite end of the instrument.
That’s pretty unique! A lot of your work is about honoring the lineage and all the history of Appalachia. What does that feel like? To be connecting with the people of the mountains or even your own ancestry?
I don’t know. I think I struggle with impostor syndrome a lot. When people ask me, “Oh my gosh, how does it feel to be part of Appalachia?” I’m like, “I don’t know. I’ve just been making music.” There have been so many people who’ve come before me and will come after me that we all are just one little branch of the tree that tells the story of living in this region. And if I can write a couple songs that add to that story in my lifetime, I would consider that an honor.
Do you ever feel like it’s a spiritual undertaking?
I grew up playing music and singing in church — that was sort of my first musical experience, which I think is a pretty common thing if you grew up in the South and you grew up musical… you always got to sing in church. And so, music and my faith and my religion growing up were always very deeply tied together. Now, that kind of shows up in my songwriting, like the form of hymns and old-time gospel music is branded into my musicality. I write songs that often end up feeling like hymns, just the structure of them, even if the content is different. One of my songs on my most recent album, “Heaven In My Mind” speaks to that. I think it feels like a sort of traditional gospel [song], but has a different sort of message.
I would love to hear more about your songwriting. What’s your creative process like?
Lord if I know! I think the songs just sort of end up. I don’t start with a verse. It’s always all or nothing. I just sit down, and it all kind of dumps out into a finished song. I find that the times I’ve been most inspired to write are often when I’m most busy and most surrounded by people. I wish I could be a pensive, loner musician that floats off into the wilderness and then comes back and writes all these songs. But because a lot of my songs are written about people, I think being around people is what inspires me the most.
One of my favorite songwriters, Matthew Sidney Parsons — he’s from Eastern Kentucky in Carter County. Something that he said years ago that I really took to heart was that as a songwriter, one of the best things you can do is have a career that’s not music related at all, especially if you want to write this kind of music, folk music. It’s people music, music about experiences, the regular folks, you know — just working and existing in the world and living your life can often be the most inspiring thing because then you come home and write about the people that you are with every day.
Yeah, it’s in community. It’s not in a vacuum. So you work in a school, right?
Yeah, well, I work at Hindman Settlement School, which is a nonprofit in Knott County, Kentucky, and I’m the Folk Arts Education Director. But essentially I’m just a traveling music teacher. In Knott County, as with a lot of rural school districts, there’s barely any budget for music or art. So one thing that the Settlement School does is to try and fill that gap. I do an after school music education program teaching acoustic instruments — banjo, guitar, mandolin, those things. And then I go into mostly kindergarten through third-grade classrooms and give short general music education sessions. I often try to incorporate Appalachian music and traditional music from around the world as much as possible. For so many of them, this is their first time seeing live music, period.
That’s so special. They must love seeing you play and learning! What’s it like teaching the dulcimer?
I love the instrument because it’s probably one of the most accessible instruments to play. It’s got three strings, and it’s diatonically fretted, which means it’s not chromatic. It has whole musical steps from the major scale with a few accidentals, so like the white keys of a piano without black keys. And what that allows for people with relatively little musical experience to sit down with the instrument and just run their finger up and down the fretboard. From there, they can pick out tunes that are already in their head and in their heart. And it’s easy for people to sound good on the instrument. I love that. It’s a great first instrument for kids; it was my first instrument when I was seven. And it’s a great first instrument for older folks who have never played music in their life.
It’s incredibly empowering to be able to sit down with an instrument and be like, “Oh, I can really do that.” When I teach, I can get people playing a simple tune within five minutes. I personally love instant gratification like that. It’s the least gatekeep-y instrument in traditional music, which I’m a big fan of. On the flip side of that, because it’s so simple, people don’t give the dulcimer the same amount of intensive musical study as others, but this instrument is just as complex as guitar or fiddle or banjo, in terms of tunings, chord shapes, modes, and keys. You can take the dulcimer as far as you want. While it’s accessible and easy, I love that you can still do surprising innovative things with it.
And you do! Speaking of which, do you have anything exciting coming up?
The first weekend of September my friend Tatiana Hargraves and I are going to do a string of duo shows in East Tennessee and Eastern Kentucky. We’re excited about that. I love playing with Tatiana. This weekend I’ll be performing at a festival called Holler Girl. I’m not performing on my own, but I’ll actually be sitting in with a local Eastern Kentucky punk band called Slut Pill. I’ll be playing dulcimer, but I have a pickup that allows me to plug into a pedal board and play with some cool effects. It’ll be my first time performing with them, so I’m looking forward to seeing how dulcimer can fit in with a punk band!
Do you have any other collaborators you want to shout out? You’re One to Watch, but who are you watching? Are there any artists you’re appreciating especially right now?
Gosh, so many! My dear friends Linda Jean Stokely and Montana Hobbs make up the duo the Local Honeys. They’re really, really great. They’re dear friends. They were the first two women to graduate from Morehead State University with degrees in traditional music, and I was in the next generation behind them. And oh my gosh, I just love their writing — they tell incredibly complex and beautiful stories with just a few simple words. They’re really making great strides in traditional music, and I love listening to them.
Also, friend Ben Fugate is a local Perry County songwriter, and he has his band Ben Fugate and the Burning Trash Band. Ben is a great local songwriter, and he writes in a more traditional country style. I’m also really enjoying listening to the artist Amanda Fields. She’s a Nashville-based country music songwriter and she just put out this beautiful album, What, When, & Without. Her whole album is moody and effervescent — kind of far away. It’s this kind of slow and introspective country music. Yeah, and it’s just really pretty. And Momma Molasses out of Bristol, Tennessee, is an amazing classic country and Western swing style singer and writer.
I also do a radio show on Sundays! You can tune in all over the world. It’s from 4-6 p.m. [ET] and the show is called She’s Gone Country on station WMMT 88.7. It’s a show featuring all female country music, from past and present. Country music is loosely defined, so I feature a lot of small artists and big artists and a lot of local Eastern Kentucky writers.
Photo Credit: Jared Hamilton
“In Eastern Kentucky, coal rules the world,” says The Local Honeys‘ Linda Jean Stockley. For this brilliant short film, Stokley and bandmate Montana Hobbs have partnered with the apparel company Patagonia to raise awareness about the actions of the area’s coal industry, while also telling the story of a non-profit designed to assist the community.
Based in Hindman, Kentucky, Troublesome Creek Stringed Instrument Co. is a manufacturing company that builds guitars, mandolins, and dulcimers, drawing on rich musical traditions to propel an otherwise suffering economy. It works to provide “refugees of the coal industry” a path forward and an opportunity to reintegrate into society post-addiction. In fact, learning to build a string instrument at Troublesome Creek is offered as a class through the local drug court.
Through that partnership, Troublesome Creek has helped effect change in the lives of many citizens of Knott County, Kentucky, and strengthened its noble mission in the face of incredible hardship. However, in July 2022, a torrential downpour led to flooding in the area, causing the banks of the Troublesome Creek to overflow and destroy equipment at the stringed instrument factory. Narrated by the Local Honeys, the 15-minute film tells the story of the luthiers in Knott County and addresses the activism in response to the region’s coal industry. To learn more about Troublesome Creek Stringed Instrument Co., and to hear the Local Honeys perform “Dying to Make a Living,” don’t miss the video below.
Photo Credit: Lila Callie
In normal times, you might find Kentucky-hearted duet the Local Honeys touring the UK or out on the road with folks like Colter Wall and Tyler Childers. But, like so many, the past year has been a paused their movement, allowing space and time to experience life in a way that most busy artists rarely get to.
Many caught wind of the group after a viral New York Times article in late 2020 about our nation’s cultural depression. But like other defendants of Appalachian people and culture, Montana Hobbs and Linda Jean Stokley, who make up the pair, have been outspoken via their music for a long time. Their new double-sided single continues a demand of accountability from big industry. “It’s a modern anthem of the American working class,” said Stokley.
BGS caught up with the Local Honeys to talk about these two songs — “Dying To Make a Living” and “Octavia Triangle” — as well as the message in their music.
BGS: In the before times, you’ve led pretty busy schedules, including multiple international tours. What have you been up to since the pandemic began?
Montana Hobbs: Well, I can tell you what we’ve be into. We’ve been in our jammies a lot! But you know, we’ve experienced probably a similar story to anybody else that has been in the gig industry. We’ll all remember it as a point in our lives and a point in our careers that was kind of sedentary, if you will. I think our story is not much different, we’ve had more time at home to focus on things that we don’t get to do on the road – like exercise, cook at home, read. At the new year we both decided that we weren’t gonna think so much about what this past year has been, but think more about what this new year is going to be for us.
In a time of so much uncertainty, what inspired this new release?
LJS: We recorded those in October of 2019, and we’d been working on trying to change up our sound a bit, to make our sound bigger but not non-traditional, kind of neo-traditional. So we were thinking in 2020, how are we gonna release these songs? Then in October 2020, our friend Jimmy McCowan, who’s on one of those tracks, suddenly passed away from a heart attack. So, we talked to La Honda and asked if we could finally get these out. That’s kind of what spawned the release of this A-side/B-side single.
LJS: In July of 2019, there was a blockade in Harlan County, [Kentucky], and over a thousand miners in central Appalachia were out of work, because of the Blackjewel mining company. They went bankrupt, and they didn’t tell anybody. They didn’t tell any of their workers until the day of. In the middle of the day, they said, “this is your last day.” That is completely illegal. It was strange that it had to happen in Harlan County, which is so synonymous with all these bloody labor wars. To have something like this happen with one of the largest coal companies in the nation just shows that they can get away with all kinds of unlawful behavior. These people, their checks bounced. Of course that’s going towards their mortgage or rent, but it’s also going towards their medical costs, because there are so many disabled miners. We started thinking about this song more and more. We sang it a little bit, but didn’t have a need to sing it necessarily because we didn’t have anything to say. When we were on tour a lot, we would tell the story of what was going on, and put song and emotion into what’s happening, to get people to listen.
MH: To add on that, the song became more relevant to us in this time frame. It was a song that we were familiar with, via the band Foddershock, but also Rick & the Po’ Folk, Rich Kirby and his traditional band, and Pierceton Hobbs [who released his own version in 2020]. Basically, we felt like when you’re given the stage to speak on things like this, you might as well take advantage of the time and the attention that you’ve been given. Make that time worth it, and get a message that you feel is important across. When we would go over to England, which is also a very post-coal society that we didn’t know much about, we had firsthand connections where they told us stories of tragedy, how their grandfathers were miners, and so on. It made the whole history of traditional music come full circle for us, to where we had the opportunity to sing a song, but we also had the opportunity to tell a story of where we’re from and what’s happening where we are. Which is what traditional music was in its first iteration.
MH: We went and visited the miner’s blockade in August. We just went down there and hung out with these people, they had their entire families on the train tracks. They had little encampments set up. People like Brett Ratliff, Rich Kirby, Tanya Turner at the time worked for Appalshop, went down there with us. Son, it was so hot. It was very much like third world conditions in what’s supposed to be the greatest country.
The week before, we were at Cowan Creek Mountain Music School in Whitesburg, Kentucky. Jim McCowan has been a member of the faculty there probably as long as the school has been around. This guy in my class asked, “Have you heard the song that Jimmy’s mother wrote?” We were both very close to Jim, he was a very bright light. So I sat on a picnic table with him and said, “I heard that you do a song your mother wrote.” And I’m one of those people that’s a real sneaky recorder with my phone, and I have about a 10 or 15 minute clip of him playing this song called the “Octavia Triangle.” He had such a beautiful delivery of the song.
We were thinking of something that would pair well with “Dying To Make a Living,” which is economic hardship, being pushed under the rug. Even though this work is essential, they’re being treated less than they’re worth. So then I thought that “Octavia Triangle” completely highlighted what it is to actually live, and work, and die, and love, in the coalfields. This was a true story that happened in Pike County, Kentucky. Who’s to blame other than these harmful practices which we still practice today?
LJS: I absolutely love Foddershock, I’m always trying to find their CDs. I’m waiting on WV [Hill] to send me some recordings. Obviously, I think “Dying to Make a Living” is one of the best places to start. I would also say “Eat Possum & Prosper” is one of my favorite tracks of theirs. And I really love “When Coal Was King.” There’s one that’s called “Live in a Trailer.” “Cahoots,” as well.
Do you have any new goals or ideas to try for when things turn around and we can all get back on the road?
MH: Hmm… we are ready and willin’! Open for suggestions, open for bookings… But like I said before, this is a time that we will all remember as a pause in our lives and a pause in history, even though it’s been a hell of a lot of history put into one year. We’ve been granted this time to kind of work on things, we’ve been writing a lot. It’s always been something we’ve done and tried to practice, but now it seems like it’s at the forefront of our minds. We want to be seen as not just traditional musicians, not just old-time musicians, but we wanna be known as songwriters as well. Carrying on that storytelling, and showing how I feel about what’s going in the time and place I’m from. That’s one of the biggest connectors in music in general, it’s saying you’re not alone. Like when we went to Wales, even our song “Cigarette Trees,” which is about strip mining, people would come up to us and say, “They do that here too, and we don’t like it either.”
LJS: We’re finding so many relatable things to talk about when we tour in the UK specifically. Touring has really given us a way and a platform to connect with all these people around the world that are dealing with similar situations. Every time we go anywhere, we talk to people about the whole idea of ‘saving Appalachia,’ and trying to tell people that no, we have to pay attention to the causes of poverty and suppression that are happening within our state and within the entire southeast region. We don’t need saving, and we don’t need developing — we need somebody to actually understand what is going on in our area. We’re looking forward to reconnecting with people.
Photo credit: Zachary Martin
Since 2011 Portland, Oregon-based Ear Trumpet Labs has been blessing the music world with their finely crafted microphones, with their clean, natural sound and designs reminiscent of the styles of the 1930s and 40s. And for the past three years, they’ve been gifting us listeners with beautiful examples of their high quality equipment through their Workshop Sessions, pairing exquisite videography with master musicianship. We’re looking back at some of our favorites from 2019 as we move into the new year, when BGS + ETL will be partnering to bring you more content live at Ear Trumpet Labs!
Jerry Douglas & Tommy Emmanuel – “Choctaw Hayride”
We’re not alone in our love for this session: it was one of our BGS readers’ favorite stories of the year. But really how could it not be? It doesn’t get much better than two masters of their crafts getting together in a workshop and just letting it rip.
Both are using Edwina microphones, and there’s also a stereo pair of Delphinas as room mics.
The Local Honeys – “The Redhead Yodel no. 1 [Mainliner]”
In their unfortunately rare ode to the female traveller amidst a plethora of hobo songs in American folk music, the Local Honeys bring us what they call “a lovey-dovey, yodelly-wodelly one.” Is there anything better than a yodelly-wodelly love song from the perspective of a female hobo? No. Is there anything better than the Local Honeys? No.
Anthony D’Amato – “Party’s Over”
Anyone else still recovering from all those holiday parties?
Anna Tivel – “Minneapolis”
Once the holiday cheer has passed, this time of year can be heavy. Tivel tells BGS this song is about “that stagnant winter sadness that can take over everything until you have to physically move yourself to shake it loose.” This stirring string arrangement may envelop you in those depths of winter, but it just might give you the hope to get yourself un-stuck.
Rachel Sermanni – “Farewell, Farewell”
Scottish folk musician Sermanni’s gentle delivery and sparse accompaniment of this Richard Thompson tune draws out the influence of the British folk ballad even more than the original Fairport Convention release in the late ‘60s. We dare you to not be completely drawn in by this breathtaking rendition.
Jefferson Hamer – “Alameda”
Hamer’s 2018 release Alameda is a collection of “road stories,” its stunning title track a tale of a traveling worker and a lost love.
The Brother Brothers – “Angel Island”
Adam and David Moss’s arrangement of this devastating Peter Rowan-penned story of a Chinese immigrant couple separated and detained at San Francisco’s Angel Island, a regrettably common occurrence during the years of the immigration station’s operation from 1910-1940, is almost unbearably haunting, and for good reason. This is a story that we as a culture shouldn’t soon forget.
Claire Hitchins – Emma
Aside from the beautiful lyrics painting the picture of our leading lady, and the easy, light vocal delivery, the look of pure peace on Hitchins’ face might just be the cherry on top of this session. “We’ll rise with love, my love, I believe we are worthy.”
Greg Blake – “Say Won’t You Be Mine”
Greg Blake brings some bluegrass from Colorado to the Ear Trumpet Labs with this Stanley Brothers classic.
The Lasses & Kathryn Claire – “Here Now”
Amsterdam folk duo The Lasses team up with Portland singer-songwriter Kathryn Claire to create this captivating session featuring violin, guitar, bodhrán, and trio vocals that could warm any lonely heart this cold winter.
This summer, BGS UK is celebrating the festival makers – the men and women who put their time, their finances and their sanity on the line to bring us the music we love. For the past decade, Israeli-born Uri Kohen has been flying the flag for roots music in the west of Ireland with his Westport Folk and Bluegrass Festival in County Mayo. What started out as a labour of love has become an event that draws people back, year after year, from across the globe. We caught up with Uri to find out more.
BGS: Uri, describe your hometown of Westport for those of us who haven’t been there.
It’s beautiful! It was voted as Ireland’s best town to live in and we still very much hold that title. It’s particularly famous for the mountain overlooking the town, Croagh Patrick, where St. Patrick sat 40 days and nights and banished the snakes from Ireland. We’ve got some of the best restaurants in the country, and they recently built an entire cycle lane all the way round called the Greenway which brings people in droves to ride their bikes. Brilliant pubs, too.
But it’s not where you’re originally from.
No, I grew up in a kibbutz in the west of Israel.
Is there a bluegrass scene in Israel?
Not particularly. I’d never heard bluegrass before I came to Ireland. But in the 1970s an English couple moved to a kibbutz called Ginosar, and they started a festival called Jacob’s Ladder. It was focused on Anglo Saxon music, so there was English folk, Scottish ballads, and American folk too. There was even a massive scale square dance! They’re still running it and it’s a super cool festival. You do hear bluegrass instruments getting into Israeli music now – pop albums with banjo.
What were your musical influences, growing up there?
My parents were socialists so the music they listened to in their early 20s was real workers’ music. My dad had spent two years in the US so he was influenced by that; he researched Alan Lomax and was a big fan of Leadbelly! And of The Weavers, Johnny Cash, and Peter, Paul & Mary… Pete Seeger came to Israel in 1964 and my dad actually got to meet him. But when I started stealing my parents’ records I chose the Bob Dylan and the Leonard Cohen.
You mention that they were politically inspired by the folk artists. Was there a lot of music making on the kibbutz too?
Yes, but bear in mind that most of the people that lived in my kibbutz were immigrants from Eastern Europe, so at that time Israeli music was heavily influenced by Russian music, led by accordion, clarinet and fiddle. The accordion was the main instrument and it’s still very popular to do public singing there – people pay good money to go and sing along with someone who leads them in communal singing. My granddad, who came from Austria, had played in a mandolin orchestra when he lived there, and I have a picture of him doing that which is cool.
You didn’t want to be a musician yourself?
I couldn’t play so I became a sound technician, which is the Failed Musician Syndrome. I loved rock and roll, and even as a little kid I was DJ-ing for friends and at school parties. I didn’t have equipment – I just used to sit all night and tape the songs from the radio. The ability to shape people’s mood by playing them good tunes is something I love to this day. Then at 14 I joined a sound company in my local village and I became fascinated by speakers and microphones. I really learned my craft touring the former Soviet Union as a sound engineer for the Israeli army’s bands. We had to work with whatever equipment we found there, and it wasn’t much.
How did you end up moving to Ireland?
It was like an actual dream. I woke up one day when I was about 16 with this epiphany and told my parents I was moving to Ireland. I didn’t know much about Ireland at all but I was charmed by it. Once I had the idea it was where I wanted to be, I read books and watched films about it and as soon as I saw The Commitments I knew that’s the way I wanted to live my life. Own a pub, live in the countryside. So that’s what I did! I flew to Dublin on a one-way ticket. I’m sure my parents were upset about it, but then again, my father went to kibbutz which wasn’t what his parents raised him to do… They’d taught us to do our own thing and so in a way they were probably proud of it.
Westport seems like a pretty remote part of the country to end up in.
There was an Israeli man by the same name, Uri, who lived here, and I knew of him, and he’d said sure if you’re in Ireland come over for a look. I went down and stayed in his house for three weeks! Within a week or two I got a job in a pub, and about the same time I met Leesa — who is now my wife. I don’t believe in fate but still, I couldn’t believe I ended up here, and that everything just worked out so well.
So you moved to Ireland, knew nothing about bluegrass — and now you run the country’s biggest bluegrass festival. Explain.
Well, I’d been running pubs and I’d almost left music production behind. Then one year some friends asked me to help them put on a Kurt Cobain tribute night and suddenly we had 200 people and six bands, something this small rural town had never seen before. Until then we’d just had a local band called the Kit Kat Boys because they’d play two songs and have a cigarette break. It inspired this idea to really develop the music scene in the town with a strong emphasis on production values and quality acts.
Anyway, I had the idea of doing a festival in the style of The Band’s The Last Waltz. I was imagining music like the Grateful Dead, and then someone said, “Why not do it with bluegrass?” I said, “I don’t have a clue what bluegrass is, but let’s do it.” And the great thing about Ireland is that the bluegrass family here is so keen that they came in droves. I couldn’t believe it. I remember the campers arriving on Thursday… I was so confused. I said “We don’t start til tomorrow!”
What has running the festival taught you about Irish bluegrass?
First of all it is way bigger than what we think. Both from a musician’s perspective and a fan’s one. Second, you don’t need to be an expert to enjoy this stuff. When I came to this music Bill Monroe and Lester Flatt meant nothing to me. What’s important for the crowds is that the acts are good — not whether you play Kentucky-style or California-style.
Festivals are famously risky from a business point of view. Did you ever feel out of your depth?
In the second and third years I lost a lot of money because I was determined to book the best bands I could. But the response was amazing and it just grew and grew. I think I hit the jackpot choosing this style because these musicians want to play all the time. I brought the Loose Moose String Band from Liverpool and they almost played for 72 hours straight. And I’ve seen Tim Rogers — who’s the number one fiddler in Ireland and the managing director of the festival — once do a session for 11 hours solid.
Every night we have a gala concert but everything other gig is free and bluegrassers are so approachable that seasonal musicians who just have a fiddle lying in their house can come and join the sessions with the headline acts. It’s like playing on the street with Bruce Springsteen – when people see it for the first time they are blown away. For instance, in 2012 Roni Stoneman played an afternoon set, and there was a young feller, 13 years of age. Roni, in her 70s, plays “Dueling Banjos” with him. He returned to the festival year after year, and now he’s one of the most sought-after banjo players in the country.
So who excites you in this year’s line-up?
Brennen Leigh and Noel McKay, a country folk duo from Austin, Texas, are going to close the main stage on Saturday night with some special guests. And I can’t wait to see The Local Honeys, a duo doing old-time music from East Kentucky, doing a gospel hour on the Sunday morning. We’re also bringing over a six-piece from Alaska called Big Chimney Barn Dance, and Blue Summit from California, with the brilliant AJ Lee. It’s their first-ever visit across the water! There’ll be sixteen different acts including bands from Paris and the Netherlands and of course Ireland and the UK.
Sounds like you’ve got the beginnings of your own Bluegrass Eurovision.
As I like to say, it takes an Israeli man to bring a French band to play traditional American music in Ireland. I truly believe in world peace through bluegrass! We have all the worlds’ problems sorted here.
