WATCH: Ivan & Alyosha, “Whiskey & Wine”

Artist: Ivan & Alyosha
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Song: “Whiskey & Wine” (with Brandi Carlile, Tim Hanseroth and Phil Hanseroth)
Album: Ivan & Alyosha
Release Date: October 23, 2020
Label: Nettwerk

In Their Words: “Within the song, he’s pleading with his love to give him another chance. Throughout the song, it describes what brings a man to the low points of relying on that escape. It’s extreme, but we all can relate to just wanting to check out and be numb. Sometimes it just takes someone seeing the light in our day for us to get to the other side.

“Brandi, Tim and Phil have been a huge inspiration and taught us so much about life on the road, the music industry, and how to stay connected with each other and with our fans. In the early days of Ivan & Alyosha, they gave us the gift of opening up for them on the road. Now they have given us the gift of some pretty amazing harmonies on this track.” — Ivan & Alyosha


Photo credit: Joe Day

Tanya Tucker Remains a Songwriter’s Muse (Part 2 of 2)

Tanya Tucker isn’t known as a songwriter, although “Bring My Flowers Now” from her newest album, While I’m Livin’, shows she can hold her own. Across four consecutive decades of charting singles, she relied largely on the Nashville songwriting community — and in turn, she’s served as a muse for them. Among her forty Top 10 country hits are classics like “Delta Dawn,” “Strong Enough to Bend,” and “Two Sparrows in a Hurricane.”

Now, her life is the inspiration behind the songs of While I’m Livin’, produced by Brandi Carlile and Shooter Jennings. A bulk of the material was written specifically about Tucker by Carlile and her musical comrades Tim and Phil Hanseroth (a.k.a. The Twins). At her producers’ insistence, she also cut material formerly recorded by Miranda Lambert (“The House That Built Me”) and Waylon Jennings (“High Riding Heroes”).

In the second half of our Artist of the Month interview, Tucker talks about the songwriters she’s known, the mysteries of songwriting, and the left-of-center producer that she credits with her career. (Read the first half of the interview.)

BGS: I read that you had Loretta Lynn in mind while writing “Bring My Flowers Now.”

Tucker: Yeah, I was on the way to Christmas in Texas on the bus. And she called me, or I called her, and we’re always talking songs. She says, “We gotta write something together. You gotta come on over here and write. Me and you gotta write a hit.” And I said, “Well, I got this idea, let me sing a little bit to you. I’ve had it for years, but I just can’t find anything to go with it.” And I sang her the chorus and she goes, “When you come back through here, you gotta stop in here. We’ll finish that song. I love that idea.”

So I went out to California in the meantime, and I guess I’d sung it for some reason to Brandi — and I’m sure I sung a few ideas to her. But then she brought it up the last day of the sessions and we cut it right after we finished writing it. And then it became the title, so yeah, that’s pretty cool.

Yeah, it’s such a minimal production on that song.

That was always her thing. She told me, “It’s time that we hear your voice and it’s been so covered up, and so in the mix. And it’s time for people to hear the real Tanya Tucker, and you don’t need a lot of crap over it and a lot of production.” She’s very into that — very raw, real, flaws and all.

I wanted to ask you about Tom T. Hall because he’s popular among our readers, and he’s in the Bluegrass Hall of Fame now. He’s written a lot of bluegrass hits.

Oh! I had no idea. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. We text, I text him. Johnny Rodriguez and I were together the other day, talking about how Tom T. brought him to Nashville to play guitar. And how I toured with him. I used his van when I was a kid. That was always hard because some people didn’t like you using their van. But he was very cool with it.

I was 14. We had dinner one night and even back then he said, “You know, you gave me a great idea for a song.” So I guess I’ve always come by it naturally. Now songwriters hang out around me, just knowing any minute something’s gonna come out of my mouth. I can’t tell you how many big songs that were my idea. But I didn’t write it, so that’s the way it goes.

I’m a great idea person. I’m a great hook person. But it’s just like “Bring My Flowers Now,” I had the chorus but I could not find the meat. I had the bread, but no meat. And if you don’t have that, then you might as well hang it up. Sometimes it takes a catalyst to get that out of you. Gary Stewart was that way with me. … He could somehow get things out of me. I’ve known some people that can just be in a room, while you’re in the room writing, and just bring it out without even realizing it.

I don’t know what it is. Writing a song is very hard to explain in words how it happens. It’s almost like you have to explain it after, “Well that happened. Curiously, it happened this way.” I don’t really think about it much. Harlan Howard always told me, “Oh, you’re a writer trying to get out of a singer’s body.” Max D. Barnes was a good friend of mine and he said, “If you just sit down and focus for a few minutes, I bet we would write at least three standards.” At least three. So I’ve had the greats say things like that to me — and mean them.

You’ve been listening for great material from the very start of your career.

When I was a kid, one day I said to Billy Sherrill, “I’m getting a little irritated. You know, you write all these songs for Tammy Wynette and you ain’t never written one for me.” And he goes, “Well, let me tell you why.” Either he knows how to build a fence real quick or he was really being honest, and he said, “It’s because I have never written a song that’s as good as you are a singer.” And I went, “Oh, well that was really cool. I’m not sure I believe that shit.” But he did finally write me one and I did record it. It wasn’t a single. It was called “I Guess I’ll Have to Love Him More.”

I used to fight with him about recording some songs. “Almost Persuaded” — he goes, “Nah nah nah, we don’t need to do that.” And I’d go, “WE’RE GOING TO DO THAT!” I had someone tell me the other day, “God, I loved the way you sang ‘Almost Persuaded.’” It was a totally different change from the boy to the girl. But he never did want me to cut any of his songs and I had to fight him to do it. Sure miss old Billy. I give him all the credit. Without him, I don’t think any of this would have happened.

He set the stage for you.

Well, he listened to me. They’re walking out of there going, “What the hell?! This guy’s lost his mind listening to this kid.” Because I turned down “Happiest Girl in the Whole USA.” I said, “Love the song, it’s great, but it’s not my song.” And then when he played “Delta Dawn,” with Alex Harvey on guitar/vocal, and I went, “There you go. That’s my song.” And he listened. I didn’t record anything that I didn’t want to with Billy.

He was a little left-of-center and I’ve always said that anybody that gave me a chance in life was… maybe dealing with more decks of cards, a little off-center. Because anybody logical, who had a watch, was on time, never gave me a shot. It was always those people that were just a little crazy…

I’m so proud to have known some of those boys. Oh my god, all my boys at CBS [Records] were really great. When Billy signed me, the record label thought he was crazy, too. But they couldn’t mess with him too much because he had all the hits on the charts. They thought he was kind of strange, actually very strange. And he was. He wasn’t a normal kind of guy. At all. So, those kind of people, I have a soft spot for because they’re the ones that gave me my chance, my shot.

Your fans are going to hear this and might say, “Well, this is different.” What do you hope they hear in this record?

Well, I hope they like it. “The Wheels of Laredo” is a good song, but it’s not “Only two things in life make it worth living.” It didn’t grab me like that, but it’s grabbed everybody. I’m amazed that they like it as much as they do. People have come out of the woodwork, they’re sending me videos of them listening to it in Canada and in the pool, Buck Brannaman riding in the arena to it — and it’s just like, “Whoa, what is it about this song?”

I really don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m glad it’s happened. I bet it’s like what Elvis felt when they gave him “Hound Dog” – “What the hell?! I ain’t singing this: ‘You aint’ nothing but a hound dog, cryin’ all the time.’” Like, “OK, no…” And then he cuts it and it’s a big ol’ smash. Makes you second guess yourself a little bit.

So I really don’t have any explanations of how all this happened and why. I look at all that stuff up there [plaques on the wall]. It’s not all the stuff I’ve done, but it’s a lot of my work and my catalog and my albums. But I never would’ve imagined this album would do what it’s done. Really. I have no answer for it, I have no explanation.


Photo credit: Danny Clinch
Illustration: Zachary Johnson

Bluegrass Underground: Brandi Carlile Rocks the Rock

For nearly a decade, Bluegrass Underground has invited artists and fans to experience the joy of music together … underground. The Caverns, located at the foot of Monteagle Mountain in Pelham, Tennessee, plays host to both the Emmy Award-winning PBS program and other shows from March to December.

Todd Mayo, owner of the Caverns and creator of Bluegrass Underground, walked into his first cave 10 years ago this month and thought it would be an ideal setting for live music. Though he wasn’t in the music business at all, six weeks later, Bluegrass Underground was born. Mayo booked the Steel Drivers, then fronted by Chris Stapleton, and secured an airing on WSM right before the Grand Ole Opry. And thus was born Bluegrass Underground.

When a guy came to interview Mayo about his vision of Bluegrass Underground eventually being a PBS show, the fellow — Todd Jarrell — just happened to work in that world. The two formed a production company and the rest is history, though still in the making. For a number of years, the shows took place in a different cave — one 333 feet underground in McMinnville, Tennessee. But having to load all the production gear in and out for every show was less than ideal.

Having a cave of their own with permanent light and sound installations, designed by award-winning cinematographer Allen Branton and Sound Image, respectively, allows much greater flexibility, in terms of the Caverns’ show season. But the new cave didn’t come plug-and-play.

“The first time I ever walked in here, standing on the stage, I could touch the ceiling,” Mayo explains. “That’s how much dirt came out of here. For six months, all we did was move dirt. It was like Michaelangelo with the statue of David. He said, ‘David was always in there. I just had to get the damn marble out of the way.’ Well, this cave was always here. I just had to get the dirt out of the way. When we started excavating, I didn’t know what was there. We just got all of the dirt out that had been washed in here over thousands and thousands of years and, all of a sudden, we were left with this perfect space for music.”



Bluegrass Underground sort of marries two of the greatest things about Tennessee: the musical culture and the natural beauty,” Mayo offers.


“Playing in the Caverns is one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. It’s like if somebody took Red Rocks, shrunk it down, and put it underground. It’s Red Rocks in a hole,” Tim Hanseroth [right] says. “It’s kind of humid, so everything’s a little silky and the guitars are cold because of the temperature. There’s steam coming out of your breath … it’s awesome! I was worried about things staying in tune before soundcheck, but nothing went out … surprisingly.”

The assistant director Cindy Brewer [left] and director Jim Yockey [right] both study the artist’s set list for a month, noting where the dynamic and instrument shifts take place within each song. During the live show, the AD cues the director and camera operators as to what is coming. The director and assistant positions are always split between male and female in order to avoid confusion over their voices.



“I was expecting a mystical experience,” Carlile notes. “What I wasn’t expecting was how beautiful the surrounding area was. It was how you’d expect it to be — in a cave with lots of natural reverb. It was really incredible, after 15 years of trying to re-create that sound in the studio and live digitally or with plates and chambers, to hear it occur naturally in the caverns.”



Mayo sums up the team’s mission statement: “Everything that we do is about the power of music to bring people together. You find a beautiful space that puts people in a different frame of mind and, when you’re down here, there’s no fourth wall. The artist will walk in here through the crowd and start playing. And it’s that sense of community, that communal aspect of music, that everybody feels when they go see music anywhere, it’s sort of amplified when you’re in a place like this.”


Photo credit: Kelly Amber Garcia

Best of: Brandi Carlile

For years, Brandi Carlile has been turning out beautiful tunes about the human experience. Her newest release, By the Way, I Forgive You, being no exception. The album is a powerful collection of 10 songs spanning themes such as love, loss, memory, addiction, and so much more. Take a listen and I’m sure you’ll have it playing on repeat all year long.

Can’t get enough of February’s Artist of the Month? Here are five videos to celebrate Carlile’s amazing career so far:

“Turpentine”

Uploaded in 2008, this performance of “Turpentine” from Carlile’s second studio album, The Story, is the oldest video on the Brandi Carlile YouTube page. Pick a part and get ready to sing backup vocals with the rest of her Boston audience!

“Dreams”

Carlile debuted on Music City Roots live from the Loveless Café on June 16, 2010. She and the band give it their all in this high-energy performance of “Dreams” from her 2009 album, Give Up the Ghost.

“A Promise to Keep”

“A Promise to Keep,” from Carlile’s Bear Creek album, is a touching song full of keen observations about the way life works. The ambling guitar picking beautifully mimics the ways in which we continue on in the process of moving on from loss.

“The Things I Regret”

“The Things I Regret” is one of my personal favorite Brandi Carlile songs. In this video from the Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Morrison, Colorado, Carlile shows off her skill as a performer. Flanked by twins Phil and Tim Hanseroth, Carlile brings an energy and power to the stage that is truly captivating.

“The Mother”

There is no mistaking the pure love in Carlile’s eyes as she serenades her daughter, Evangeline, in this performance of “The Mother” from By The Way, I Forgive You. The song is just one example from Carlile’s newest album of the ways in which the artist has grown and gained new life experiences to share with her listeners.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjenh

Brandi Carlile: The Work, in Progress

“A lot of times, as artists, we don’t write about what we’re good at; we write about what we struggle with,” Brandi Carlile confesses, then adds with a laugh, “I think I tend to write a lot about forgiveness because I’m quite judgmental. I’m a work in progress.” As evidenced in that thesis statement and the work’s title, forgiveness — for ourselves and others — is the tie that binds her new musical masterpiece, By the Way, I Forgive You.

Co-produced by Dave Cobb and Shooter Jennings, and filled with ’60s and ’70s folk-rock flourishes, By the Way, I Forgive You is the album many of Carlile’s fans and critics — as well as Carlile, herself — have been waiting for her to make, as it captures both the expansive power and vulnerable intimacy that make her live shows so indelible and affecting. From the glory and gravitas of “The Joke” to the heart-warming humility of “The Mother,” Carlile — along with Phil and Tim Hanseroth — turned her gaze simultaneously inward and outward, weaving the political into the personal to achieve a new level of honesty in the songwriting and performances.

Carlile and the twins know very well the potency of the musical pen, alluding to exactly that on the album’s buoyantly sentimental opener, “Every Time I Hear That Song.” Aptly, the tune circles around the idea of having memories triggered by a song on the radio. Now 15 years in, Carlile and company have crafted quite a few trigger songs of their own. “I love when I hear that because I know exactly how that feels,” she says. “There are so many activities that, when I do them, I’ll make a playlist and only listen to, like, the Indigo Girls on that camping trip because it’s nostalgia and it’s so important. Certain times in your life are marked by a soundtrack. To be that for somebody else is insanely satisfying for me.

“But ‘Every Time I Hear That Song’ is a little bit different. It’s not really about a song, is it? That’s the least important thing, the song that conjures up those feelings. It’s the fact that they’re still in there somewhere that’s so irritating,” she laughs. This particular album, though, really is about the unique power of a song — or, rather, 10 of them — to conjure up feelings, each one building and bridging toward the next.

A noted activist and humanitarian in her personal life, the closest Carlile had come to drafting a political statement before By the Way was with “Mainstream Kid” (off 2015’s The Firewatcher’s Daughter) because she didn’t feel that she had the skill required to do it well. Then came November 8, 2016 and all that has followed. And, now, not all bets are off, but a lot of them sure are, with “Hold Out Your Hand” and “The Joke” serving as two particularly political rallying cries.

“I think we all woke up, rather disturbingly, in November of 2016, just to realize that certain epidemics still exist, and we live alongside really damaging forces in the world, especially in our own country,” she says. “Becoming a parent has been a part of it, and wanting to do as much as I can to make the world a better place for my kids, while also recognizing that what got me to where I am and gave me a platform in the first place isn’t being political. And trying to honor that — that people want to listen to my music and have real feelings about interpersonal relationships and love and parenthood and loss, as well. So striking that delicate balance and just honoring the times we live in were really important motivators for me, on this record.”

The humanity required to see and strike that balance is, perhaps, Carlile’s greatest gift. It’s in the way she connects with people en masse and in private. It’s in the way she pours everything in her into every note. It’s in the way she exudes sheer joy every time she steps on stage. And it’s in the way she tackles topics almost too tender to touch.

Tales of addiction, abandonment, depression, and suicide have often cropped up on Brandi Carlile records, and By the Way is no exception. Here, “Fulton County Jane Doe” sweetly memorializes an unknown woman found dead in Georgia and “Sugartooth” sympathetically recounts a high school friend’s lost battle with drug abuse, while “Party of One” compassionately resolves to live up to personal promises made to a partner.

Carlile can tell these stories because she has lived these stories. “There’s nothing unique, really, about me,” she offers. “I’ve got all that in my family and all that in my life, too. I’m coping with it right alongside you and everybody else in the world. I think that God gave me the privilege and gift and ability to write about it, and I’m just really happy to be able to do that.”

Because of all she has dealt with in her life, one of the tools Carlile employs in a lot of different situations is the Al-Anon philosophy of love and acceptance: “I find it to be a really versatile philosophy to love someone just because they are worthy of being loved and not because they are meeting your expectations. That is easier said than done, but so important to experience growth.”

Confusing co-dependency with commitment is another addiction-related thread that has run through multiple albums. In keeping with the spirit of forgiveness and signaling a spurt of growth, Carlile takes that on in “Whatever You Do,” albeit with a newfound confidence that comes from counting yourself in the equation rather than succumbing to invisibility. “It’s all there — all of that gravity around having a savior complex and realizing how, subconsciously, we decide at a young age to love each other within the boundaries of what sustains us personally,” she says. “Realizing how necessary it is to let go of that is sort of groundbreaking.”

Across the final 45 seconds of the song, Carlile wails into the wind. What did that symbolize for her? “That it’s not easy,” she says with a laugh.

But Carlile didn’t sign up for easy. She signed up for real … in all its unfathomably beautiful and inestimably horrible glory.

“The kind of white-washing of humanity and saying that everyone’s just doing the best they can and trying to exist at any given time means that we’re not really capable of great things, either,” she explains. “Because, if we’re not really capable of awful things, we’re not capable of great things. It’s the high-highs and the low-lows that are real life. That’s why forgiveness is so necessary — and accountability is so necessary — in our little speck-of-dust lives. That’s what makes the really good shit happen.”

That philosophy of living up to our highest potential against every possible odd is what pulses so profoundly through “The Joke,” the album’s centerpiece. The stunning cut serves as an anthem of empowerment for the marginalized and vulnerable who face bullies and barricades in life. Forgiveness is found there, too. In order to rise above those who would hold us down, it has to be.

“That’s the thing about transgression and grief and fallibility: There’s going to come a time when you and I and all of us are going to be in dire need of forgiveness for some things we can’t believe that we did. And hoping that it’s there is a real shot in the dark because it’s an easy thing to talk about and a hard thing to do,” Carlile says. “At the end of the day, though, if we do it, we have longer lives and we’re happier people.”


Illustration by Zachary Johnson