From “Alligator Bait” to “Gospel Blues,” Joy Is Central on Robert Finley’s ‘Black Bayou’

Been around the world, seen some of everything, but what I like about it the most is the joy that I bring…

– Robert Finley,Livin’ Out A Suitcase

Whether it’s at home or abroad, Robert Finley’s youthful exuberance has a knack for not only lighting up rooms, but people’s faces as well. On his latest batch of songs, the former sharecropper and carpenter – who got his start in music during a stint in the Army – continues that trend with 11 stories pulled from his Louisiana upbringing that include everything from the poignant “No One Wants To Be Lonely” to the cheeky and overly embellished “Alligator Bait.”

Pulling from rock, soul, blues and a whole lot of gospel, Black Bayou is easily Finley’s most personal and sonically developed record to date. His third project with Dan Auerbach and Easy Eye Sound, the record is one that came about organically, feeding on the artist’s energetic live performances with lyrics and arrangements put together on the spot in the studio with no pre-fabricated blueprint.

“When we did this album there was no pencil or paper in the room,” Finley tells BGS of the process. “The band was free to jam what they felt and I had the freedom to say what I felt. Nothing was written beforehand, it all came to life in the moment.”

Born in Winnsboro and now based in Bernice, a North Louisiana hamlet only thirty miles from the Arkansas border, Finley has excelled at living in the moment despite the fast moving world around him. That essence is what accelerates his storytelling throughout Black Bayou, particularly on songs like the aforementioned “Livin’ Out A Suitcase” and “Nobody Wants To Be Lonely,” the latter of which has the artist crooning about the elderly sitting at nursing homes around the country with no family wanting or able to keep in touch or care for them. It’s a topic that Finley doesn’t just sing about from the studio, though. He visits nursing homes in his community on a regular basis to serenade its residents.

“So many people have been forgotten,” says Finley. “Their kids drop them off and go on with their lives. I go down occasionally and perform at the old folks home in Bernice. Just take my guitar and play for 30 minutes or so, try to get them to dance, try to bring some joy to them.”

Whether in those homes or the local clubs, Finley is determined to use his platform to give back to the community that made him. In addition to never turning down a conversation or photo op, he also aims to lift up the next generation of musicians, offering support and guidance to those cutting their teeth and in need of a role model as they pursue their own musical dreams.

“I always go back whenever I’m not on tour, simply because that’s where I got my start,” says Finley. “It also gives me a chance to encourage the young artists there to pursue their dreams, because I can share how I started busking over there on the corner eight years ago and now I’m touring the world. Had I not made that first step, then nobody would even know what I was capable of doing.”

As listeners have come to expect from Finley, Black Bayou is full of lust, love, spirituality, and humor as well. Tunes like “Sneakin’ Around,” “Miss Kitty,” and “Can’t Blame Me For Trying” showcase Finley’s flamboyant and flirtatious side, which goes hand in hand with his center-stage shimmying and shaking at live shows. On the flip side, cuts like the swampy album closer, “Alligator Bait,” unravels as a spoken word recollection of a formative day on the bayou with his grandfather with a gnarly and always evolving backbeat oozing with attitude.

Together these stories make a patchwork quilt of sounds, emotions, and stories that only Finley could piece together. Calling into his North Louisiana home, we spoke with Finley — our November Artist of the Month — in detail about Black Bayou, making music with his family, the similarities between performing and preaching, and more.

What has busking taught you about performing and holding an audience’s attention?

I’ve learned that you don’t need to put all of your eggs in one basket. I’m always trying to shake it up and introduce new things to the crowd at my shows, because no matter how good a movie is, if you watch it two or three times you’re going to know exactly what happens next. It doesn’t mean it’s not a great movie, it just means you’re not going to watch something that you already know the result of. I don’t want to rehearse and be programmed to do the same thing over and over, I need to have the freedom of the spirit of the moment.

Your daughter Christy Johnson and granddaughter LaQuindrelyn McMahon both joined you on this record. What’s it mean to you to share your love for music with them?

It’s great being able to have three generations of Finleys singing together. I’ve always admired Pop Staples and The Staple Singers for him and his daughters. I have two other daughters as well, but they both work in the medical field and can’t just uproot and follow me around the world. My oldest is a licensed beautician, but put it on hold to help me pursue my career due to my sight being bad. She saw that I was determined to do it either way, so she sacrificed hers to make sure I wasn’t alone. Because of that I want to share the spotlight with her every chance I get.

She first came on during the audition process for America’s Got Talent, which was her introduction to the world. The label loved her so much that they were willing to use her on the albums. Soon we needed a second background singer, so I let Dan [Auerbach] know about my granddaughter. He and the label were immediately supportive and have been willing to [incorporate] as much of my family as possible into my career. This is mostly just me trying to open a gateway for them, because they have the potential to be bigger and better successes than me. Or at least it won’t take them 69 years to get discovered.

You’re often referred to as a bluesman, but Black Bayou could also just as easily be described as a gospel album. What are your thoughts on the dynamic between the two genres and how you’re able to tie them together on the record?

The only difference between the gospel and the blues is really the choice of words you use. The same music that you hear in the club is being played in the church and the same music that we grew up on in the church is being played in the clubs. The only difference is that if you want blues you sing “oh baby” and if you want gospel you sing “oh lord.” Other than that, a lot of the rhythms and dances are the same.

What’re your thoughts on continuing to make this type of music in the modern age?

I don’t even look at it as gospel or blues anymore. I look at it as just saying the truth. Regardless of what you’re going through, there’s someone else who’s somewhere who’s been through the same thing. The fact that they made it through gives hope that you can do it, too.

As artists, we’re blessed with fans that will pay to come see you and even take your advice home with them. The same people who go to church will not remember a thing the preacher talked about, but if they like your song they’ll remember it word for word. If you’re really trying to reach people, you’ve got a better chance to reach a lot more folks by singing than you would preaching. Nobody wants to listen to an hour and a half or two hour sermon, but they will stay around a concert for an encore. That’s why it’s so important when you have the world’s attention to tell them something positive with it.

It almost sounds like you view yourself performing on stage like a minister preaching from the pulpit?

That’s it. I can get a bigger crowd than the average preacher even though church is always free, but even then people will flock to the clubs. I’ve also sang “Amazing Grace” in nightclubs and had people put down their glasses, sing-a-long, and go to church with me. You just don’t know what people will do. Everyone’s going through something. If you stop the church people from going to the club then the club will shut down, because most of the people frequenting there are church folks from the other side of town. The problem is that while there they’re not getting the truth. They’re getting the water, but not the wine.

There’s not a better song on the album that ties these influences together than the aptly named “Gospel Blues.” Are you hypothesizing what you’ll do in heaven on it?

I’m trying to tell people not to be so judgmental. That’s why I sing, “I do drink a little whiskey, and I’ll take a little shot of wine” – because it’s better to be real with people than to try and fool them. Whether I have some whiskey [or not] isn’t going to have anything to do with whether or not I go to heaven or hell.

Another song I’ve been captivated by is “Alligator Bait.” Is that a true story?

That song was actually designed more or less as a joke. I never met my grandfather on either side, but I did hear stories when I was sitting around with my dad and his brothers about things like that. It seemed like I had a cruel, cruel grandfather, but that wasn’t the message I was trying to convey. I was trying to prove that any song where you think you’re right needs to be like you just read a novel. It needs to tell a story. It’s more about being a convincing writer than deceiving.

On the cover of Black Bayou is the pond that I used to swim in and got baptized in. For a while it’s just been deserted, but we went back there, because it conjured up a lot of those childhood memories. Even just standing there taking photos my mind flashed back to the things we used to do there like swimming on one end and fishing on the other. Us jumping in the water would scare the fish over to the other side where they could get caught easier, which in many ways is similar to how the alligator is lured in the song.

What has music taught you about yourself?

It’s helped me to find and be myself. I used to try imitating everyone from James Brown to Ray Charles, but soon I realized that the only person I could be the best version of was myself. Nobody can beat you being you. If you just be yourself then you’re automatically different from everybody else anyway. Being real with myself and my music has opened so many doors for me, because of that.


Photo Credit: Jim Herrington

MIXTAPE: Anthony d’Amato’s Train Songs

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

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

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

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

The Band – “Mystery Train”

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

Howlin’ Wolf – “Smokestack Lightnin’”

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

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

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

The Staple Singers – “This Train”

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

Bruce Springsteen – “Land of Hope and Dreams”

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

Elizabeth Cotten – “Freight Train”

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

Lead Belly – “Midnight Special”

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

Ernest Stoneman – “Wreck of the Old 97”

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

Woody Guthrie – “John Henry”

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

Bob Dylan – “Slow Train”

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

Arlo Guthrie – “The City of New Orleans”

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

Justin Townes Earle – “Workin’ for the MTA”

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

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

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

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

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


Photo Credit: Vivian Wang

MIXTAPE: Turn Turn Turn’s Sonic Journey

Me and my Turn Turn Turn bandmates Savannah Smith and Barb Brynstad have chosen a mix of music that’s either helped shape us as musicians and songwriters, resonates with us in these uncertain times, or is stuff we keep coming back to, like that lover we can’t seem to shake. It’s old and new like our band — we “turn” to the distant past of early American recorded music, “turn” again to that renaissance of the 1960s and 1970s, and finally “turn” again to the present looking forward. We hope you dig the sonic journey. — Adam Levy

Ry Cooder – “Boomer’s Story”

Probably one of the most influential players of my life. Evocative, funky, reverent of past blues players, but super innovative. All the double stops sound like he’s often imitating fiddlers. I do that on the guitar solo for our song “Fourteen.” This song is the ultimate Ry Cooder groove with Jim Keltner on drums. Reminds me of years listening to it touring in a van with my band, The Honeydogs. — Adam

Luluc – “Controversy”

There’s another level of calm within Luluc’s music I have always appreciated. Nico with modern themes… I don’t know how they do it, but they do it so well. — Savannah

The Staple Singers – “Freedom Highway”

Who can say they HAVEN’T been influenced by the Staple Singers? Unvarnished, insistent, and catchy as hell, it’s no surprise that “Freedom Highway” is as eminently listenable today as it was in 1965. And sadly, although it was written more than five decades ago, this song’s imperative message resonates just as strongly in 2020 as it did during the apogee of the Civil Rights movement. — Barb

Judee Sill – “The Lamb Ran Away With the Crown”

It’s hard to choose a favorite of hers. One of the greatest underappreciated American songwriters. She crosses genres, she sings some of the most profoundly spiritual music and she hooks the listener with amazing harmonic movement and melodies. If you don’t have goosebumps at the rousing end of this gem you might need to check your pulse. As good as anything on Pet Sounds — maybe better. — Adam

Turn Turn Turn – “Delaware Water Gap”

Imagine if Dylan wrote a song about a female serial killer and had Emmylou Harris and Stevie Nicks join him while Grady Martin and Clarence White duel on guitar. — Turn Turn Turn

Sarah Jarosz – “House of Mercy”

I fell in love with multi-instrumentalist Sarah Jarosz a few years ago, when I saw her perform at the Dakota, a renowned live-music venue in Minneapolis. Fresh-faced and not too far out of college (New England Conservatory of Music), she played as a part of a well-oiled trio of seasoned twentysomethings. This particular song appeals to me because it pierces the conventions of traditional bluegrass music — lyrically, vocally, and instrumentally. Importantly, it was my gateway to a deeper appreciation of bluegrass and old-time music. — Barb

Lefty Frizzell – “Treasures Untold”

Lefty is often overlooked in the country music pantheon. His voice is velvety voice and cheeky chords meld honky-tonk gently with Tin Pan Alley pop. This song is nearly perfect to me as a composition. — Adam

Jessica Pratt – “As the World Turns”

Jessica Pratt’s voice and melodies are incredibly ethereal. I’ve always admired her songwriting, especially in this song. To me, I feel the driving, unstoppable passing of time while stuck in a trance of reflection. — Savannah

Turn Turn Turn – “Cold Hard Truth”

Adam wrote this one about deep self-examination and suggested Barb and Savannah do the vocal heavy lifting. We’re pretty proud of this bridge and we bet Phil Spector or Jeff Lynne would give us a nod of approval. — Turn Turn Turn

Dixie Chicks – “The Long Way Around”

I love the Dixie Chicks for their fearless defiance of conformity. And I love this song’s transcendent harmonies, soaring hooks, and in-your-face lyrics (“I wouldn’t kiss all the asses that they told me to”) that serve as a clarion call to all the uppity movers and shakers who refuse to be conventional. — Barb

The Rolling Stones – “Loving Cup”

I came to country music through the Stones. They always had a couple country nods with close harmonies, twangy pedal steel-like riffs and stories about dissipation, loneliness, yearning, and travel. “Loving Cup” is loose and sexy, takes you by the hand, spanks you and just keeps building with that piano-horn driven, drum-tripping outro. — Adam

Laura Stevenson – “Time Bandits”

Laura Stevenson is someone I have always really looked up to. Both her voice and her songwriting are incredibly powerful. This song hit me really hard during quarantine; it’s heartbreakingly hopeful. — Savannah

Big Bill Broonzy – “Glory of Love”

First time hearing this I was struck by the driving rhythm. I thought it was a couple guitarists. I spent a couple days figuring out this relatively simple three-chord song. And I only recently figured out how to get that ragtime banging drive happening — some 30 years after first hearing it. — Adam


Photo credit: Ilia Stockert

BGS 5+5: Western Centuries

Artist: Western Centuries
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Latest album: Call the Captain
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Country Hammer (our first band name, since rejected)

All responses by Jim Miller

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

When I was 17 years old, living in Branford, Connecticut, the only music I considered “real” was Jimi Hendrix. Nothing else mattered. Then, for reasons I can’t recall, some friends and I went to a concert by Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys in a small venue at Yale University called The Enormous Room. His band at that time included Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley, who appeared to be teenagers, like I was. From that point on, my musical life was forever changed. I became a “Ralph Head” and would hitchhike pretty much anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard to see his band play. Even though it’s hard to draw a direct line from Ralph Stanley to the music I write and perform today, I hope that some spiritual elements of his music have seeped into my own.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I spent 20 years touring with the band Donna the Buffalo. One year, we were hired to play MerleFest and our set, with Peter Rowan as part of the band, was scheduled to close the main stage, going on after Dolly Parton. We of course thought that this was our big break. But it turns out that Dolly talks quite a bit between songs and certainly nobody is going to cut her off. The length of our closing set kept shrinking.

When it got down to where it would be 20 minutes long, the stage manager asked: “Do you still want to go on?” Yes! So we rushed up there and started playing in our long-winded, jammy style. The stage crew could see where this was headed — I can’t remember whether we got through two or three songs before they shut down the house PA and monitors and turned the stage lights off. But our amps still worked! So we raged on as the audience stampeded for the exit gates. Priceless.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I spent my formative years in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. When I was 7 years old, I auditioned for the Saskatoon Boys Choir and somehow made the cut. We got to wear a turquoise vest, a little white jacket, and a black bow tie. Unlike the other kids, I couldn’t read music, but I somehow faked it — learning my parts by ear. We toured the Prairie Provinces, performing in churches and schools, and it became clear to me that being a musician was my true calling.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I’m a Lepidopterist by training, the study of butterflies and moths. I’ve hiked endless miles through the jungles of Central and South America, searching for rare species. Those travels have opened my eyes to the vastness and beauty of the natural world. They’ve also exposed me to people in different countries who speak different languages, eat different food, and live day-to-day in intimate contact with nature. Such experiences inform my world outlook and provide musical inspiration in ways I can acknowledge, but not easily explain.

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

I would go to Bob Seger’s house — in Detroit I assume — and ask him to cook cheeseburgers on the grill. I can make the coleslaw.


Photo credit: Bill Reynolds

LISTEN: ‘The Peanut Butter Falcon’ Soundtrack

The Americana-based soundtrack to The Peanut Butter Falcon features new and classic songs from Sara Watkins, Gregory Alan Isakov, The Staple Singers, The Time Jumpers, Ola Belle Reed, Chance McCoy, Parker Ainsworth, Butch Walker, Paris Jackson and Jessie Payo, as well as a score composed by Zach Dawes, Jonathan Sadoff, and members of The Punch Brothers. The heartwarming film written and directed by Michael Schwartz and Tyler Nilson premiered in March at the South by Southwest Film Festival where it won the Audience Award in the Narrative Spotlight category.

The Peanut Butter Falcon tells the story of Zak (Zack Gottsagen), a young man with Down syndrome, who runs away from a residential nursing home to follow his dream of attending the professional wrestling school of his idol, The Salt Water Redneck (Thomas Haden Church). A strange turn of events pairs him on the road with Tyler (Shia LaBeouf), a small time outlaw on the run, who becomes Zak’s unlikely coach and ally. Together they wind through deltas, elude capture, drink whisky, find God, catch fish, and convince Eleanor (Dakota Johnson), a kind nursing home employee charged with Zak’s return, to join them on their journey.

“Michael Schwartz and Tyler Nilson are very musical and it was clear they heard what they wanted the film to sound like as they wrote the script. We discussed scores they liked as well as a curated playlist that felt aligned with the characters and place. ‘Atomic Throw,’ at the end of the picture, is my favorite musical moment because it serves the fantastical elements of the story – the music branches off from previous arrangements and instrumentation in a nice ethereal manner. I hope audiences see the importance of human connection and how integral that is to love and happiness. Family is what you make it and never be afraid to trust or love someone, or something.” — Zach Dawes, composer and music supervisor

“Music is an essential element in The Peanut Butter Falcon. One of the tracks that feels really special to us is the end credits song ‘Running for So Long (House a Home).’ It was the last cue left unfilled and the whole team was trying to find something with the right feeling to leave the audience with. After countless suggestions, we invited our good friend Parker Ainsworth to come over to write something with us in our living room a week before the movie went to final mix. Within three hours we had written the song, recorded it on an iPhone, cut it to picture, and sent it to our producers.” — Michael Schwartz & Tyler Nilson, writers and directors

“When my good friend Tyler told me about The Peanut Butter Falcon, and played me the song his friend Parker co-wrote for the film, ‘Running For So Long (House a Home),’ I was very excited and couldn’t wait to start recording. I suggested to bring Paris Jackson on board for some accompaniment — she has been a family friend for many years and she had just recently done some backing vocals on a record of my own. Everyone involved thought that she was perfect for the song and her vocals gave it a very special note, just like I feel the movie is. We also ended up putting a third singer on with them named Jessie Payo, who was Parker’s suggestion and I LOVE the result. The Peanut Butter Falcon is such a beautiful story with a wonderful (and much needed) message right now, that touched me deeply every single time I watched it — and I’ve watched it multiple times now. I’m sure it will touch the hearts of so many others as well.” — Butch Walker, music producer

Counsel of Elders: Mavis Staples on Staying True

The Staple Singers burst onto the scene in 1956 with their breakthrough hit “Uncloudy Day.” It set the tone for their future releases. Pops Staples’ shimmering guitar framed the heartfelt vocals of his youngest daughter, Mavis, while Cleotha, Pervis, and Yvonne Staples sang the intricate harmonies. The Staple Singers were unique. Nobody sounded like them. They were mesmerizing.

More than 60 years later, Mavis is still at it. She has worked with everyone from Curtis Mayfield to Jeff Tweedy. Through their friendship with Martin Luther King, Jr., the Staple Singers were the soundtrack to the Civil Rights Movement. Bob Dylan once proposed to Mavis. She has two honorary doctorates and a Grammy. Her life is the stuff of legend. On February 19, Mavis continued the hot streak with her latest release, Livin’ on a High Note. A roster of all-star musicians wrote her latest batch of songs: Neko Case, Justin Vernon, Nick Cave, Ben Harper, Tune-Yards, Aloe Blacc, Benjamin Booker, the Head and the Heart, and M. Ward all penned original tunes, with Ward also producing the set.

Take us back to when and how it all started.

When we first started singing, I would never have thought that we’d come this far, that I would still be here singing and people still wanting to hear me. I mean, we started on the living room floor. And we really weren’t singing for a career. We were singing, more or less, to amuse ourselves. We had nothing else to do. Then, in the late 1940s, we would listen to the radio … we would all be on the floor, we’d finish our homework. What happened was, Pops, he was singing with an all-male group. And these guys wouldn’t come to rehearsal. Pops would go to rehearsal. He’d come back and be disgusted. There were supposed to be six guys there and there would maybe be two or three. He’d go the next week — same thing.

The last time he went, he came back home and went straight to the closet, pulled out this little guitar he’d bought at the pawn shop, and he called us children into the living room, sat us down on the floor in a circle, and he began giving us voices to sing — ones that he and his sisters and brothers would sing when they were in Mississippi.

One night, my Aunt Katie — she lived with us — she came through and said, “Shucks. Y’all sound pretty good. I believe I want y’all to sing at my church on Sunday.” Lord, that was all we needed! Anywhere but on the living room floor! That was the beginning. We sang at Aunt Katie’s church and the people kept clapping us back. We had to sing the same song three times. It was the only song Pops had taught us all the way through. So Pops said, “Shucks. We’re going home and we’re gonna learn some more songs. These people like us!”

That first song that he taught us was “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” It’s still going. I look up there sometimes and say, “Daddy, I’m still here!” I can just see him smiling with a twinkle in his eye telling the angels, “Yeah, that’s my baby daughter Mavis. She’s still got it going. She’s keeping it going. I started it, but she’s keeping it going.” [Laughs]

[Laughs] From then to now, is there a lesson you learned that you’d like to pass down?

Be true to your profession and be sincere. Best thing, if you’re going to be a singer, get your rest. We didn’t go to any of the after parties. What I really learned — and I always bring this up — my father taught me to sing from my heart. I had seen these kids on stage in New York — they were about my age — and when they finished singing, they were jumping around and singing at the top of their voice and running around the stage. I tried to do that. My father snatched me off the stage. He said, “Mavis, what are you doing?” I said, “I’m singing, daddy.” He said, “Listen, you don’t need gimmicks. You don’t need to sing at the top of your voice. You’re singing sacred music. You’re singing God’s music. You sing from your heart and be sincere. What comes from the heart reaches the heart. If you sing from your heart, you’ll reach the people.”

And I’ll tell you, I’ve kept that with me all my life. I have my little meditation in the dressing room and, when I go out that dressing room door to the stage, I go to my heart. I’m singing from my heart. I look at the people and I see smiles and I see tears. And I know I’m reaching the people. I’ll never forget, as long as I live, that lesson taught to me by my father that I’ll always keep with me.

And you don’t even have to be a singer to do it. You can do everything from your heart and it’ll be better.

Everything. Everything from your heart. Anything you choose to do, whatever your profession, do that from your heart. That, among many other things that I’ve learned coming up… I’ve learned to do unto others, tried to give, tried to care, tried to forgive if I need to. I’ve lived pretty happy. I don’t have any hang-ups. I don’t have any hold-backs in my life. It’s all been about moving forward.

LISTEN: Eagle Rock Gospel Singers, ‘No Apologies’

Sure, gospel isn't the first genre that comes to mind when anyone thinks of Los Angeles, but the Eagle Rock Gospel Singers hope to shift that thinking … even just a little. On their upcoming album, Heavenly Fire, the group lets front woman Kim Garcia spread her wings and share their message. And it's a message being heard at festivals around the country, including Austin City Limits, High Sierra, and Pygmalion.

Will Wadsworth and Jeremy Horton started the Gospel Singers five years ago as a way to help Wadsworth through a tough time. Those who gathered worked through songs by Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, and others. But one of the biggest influences came from the Staple Singers — Mavis Staples, in particular.

“Obviously, the Staple Singers are a huge influence,” Garcia says. “When I write something, I try to think about what Mavis would sing, and go from there."

Regarding her inspiration for “No Apologies,” she adds, "Violence is an ever-present evil that surrounds us on daily basis. The band may not even know this, but I wrote this song in response to what I was seeing in the news — Ferguson, Charleston — in my Facebook feed, in my Twitter feed, etc. Violence should not be a trending topic, and yet it is. This song is a reminder that we're all on the same side, and that we're all hurting and in need of some kind of help — whether we're asking for it or not.”

Heavenly Fire drops on August 4 via Ba Da Bing Records.


Photo by Emilie Elizabeth.