Like Father, Like Sons: Del McCoury & The Travelin’ McCourys

Even after five decades in the bluegrass business, the McCoury family is having a banner year in 2019. In February, Del McCoury turned 80 years old and shared the Grand Ole Opry stage with some of his most famous admirers. That same month, the Travelin’ McCourys – fronted by Del’s sons Rob and Ronnie McCoury — picked up a Grammy award in Los Angeles for their self-titled, debut album. And looking ahead, the 12th annual DelFest music festival in Cumberland, Maryland is slated for May, with performances by both bands on the schedule.

In person and off stage, Del McCoury is as polite and warm as one would expect. Smiling broadly as he enters the Opry dressing room, he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, his pompadour is on point (as always), and he seems unfazed by the fact that show time is less than 30 minutes away. To paraphrase another Opry star, he’s just so proud to be here.

“I’ve been listening to the Grand Ole Opry since I was at least 10 years old,” he says. “My brother and my dad would listen because it was before TV, you know? Especially out in the country where we lived. People had TVs, but I don’t remember anybody who did out in the country. We grew up on a farm. Like I said, I’ve been listening to the Grand Ole Opry since then and I’ve always looked up to all the acts on here. Especially the bluegrass acts, like Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs. It’s a big show in my mind! Still is!”

Though the time set aside for the interview is somewhat brief, Del conjures up stories about everything from crusty club owners to playing Carnegie Hall. He cracks up at a memory of Bill Monroe flat-out telling festival promoter Carlton Haney that a bluegrass festival would never work. Thinking even further back to his childhood, he reminisces about being fascinated by Earl Scruggs’ banjo on “Rollin’ in My Sweet Baby’s Arms” when he was around 11 years old.

“Something hit me here,” Del says, touching his heart. “That banjo behind the lead singer was so good. And so I learned how to play that. I was already a guitar player but I heard this record and I thought, ‘Wow, that’s what I want to do!’ So, when I could get a banjo, I started learning it. Just take the record, pick the needle up and put it over, and try to play what Earl was doing. It was not simple!”

Ronnie McCoury, Vince Gill, Del McCoury

Asked about the decision to spin off a group from The Del McCoury Band, employing everybody except himself, Del says he conferred with manager Stan Strickland about how to make it work.

“I got to an age where I thought, you know, I’m [not] gonna be around here forever,” he noted, just before breaking into his trademark laugh. “I felt good, and I still feel good, but you never know. When you get to 70, you don’t know how many days you got left. I thought, these guys depend on me. My wife and I talked to Stan and I said, ‘You know, if we get them something going on their own, and if something happens to me, then by that time they might be established.’ So we got them a different booking agent than I had, and it seemed like right from the start they were starting to do good already! And I thought, ‘Wait a minute now, I wonder if I should have done that…’”

He breaks into laughter again, before adding, “Especially when they start winning Grammys! And they don’t take me with them!”

Loyal bluegrass fans know that for decades the Del McCoury Band has done its own share of travelin’ – not to mention winning two Grammy awards of their own. Led by Del on lead vocals and guitar, the good-natured group includes Ronnie on mandolin, Rob on banjo, Jason Carter on fiddle and Alan Bartram on bass. Cody Kilby assumes Del’s role as a guitarist in The Travelin’ McCourys, while the vocals in that ensemble are handled in equal share by Ronnie, Rob, Jason, and Alan.

Three days after their Grammy win, the Travelin’ McCourys regrouped with Del when the Opry curated a special show called the Grand Del Opry, in order to commemorate McCoury’s milestone birthday as well as his 15th anniversary as an Opry member. Friends like Sam Bush, Bela Fleck and Abigail Washburn, Vince Gill, Old Crow Medicine Show, Jesse McReynolds, Ricky Skaggs, Marty Stuart, and of course Travelin’ McCourys jammed with the man himself.

The finale of the Grand Del Opry

In an interview a few weeks after the show, Rob says, “One of the biggest things for me was the finale, and looking at all these people on stage to help Dad celebrate his birthday. And also looking out to see nearly a full house in honor of my father. It made me very proud to see all these folks that have such respect for my dad and the music, and they all took the time to come out to the Opry that night and put on a show in honor of my father.”

Del McCoury made his first appearance on the Grand Ole Opry as Bill Monroe’s guitarist in 1963 – and that performance was only McCoury’s second gig with the esteemed Father of Bluegrass. The first was not long before that, when McCoury subbed for Monroe’s banjo player at a New York show. Although McCoury still preferred playing banjo, Monroe offered him a spot as a guitarist and lead singer – a job he kept for a year. “He’s the reason I’m doing that now,” Del says with a chuckle. “I didn’t think I would be, but once I started playing guitar and singing, I liked it.”

Obviously he still does. McCoury has played a staggering number of festivals over the years, including a few of those seminal Carlton Haney bluegrass festivals of the 1960s. Still he needed some persuasion to launch his own music festival. He recalls, “My manager said to me, ‘Did you ever think about having your own festival?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, I’ve always wanted to, but I don’t want the headache! What a headache that’s got to be!’”

But with persistence, the right location, and a diverse lineup, DelFest has become a major player on the folk festival circuit. This year’s roster includes The String Cheese Incident, Trampled by Turtles, Tyler Childers, Railroad Earth, and more than a dozen bluegrass artists, including Billy Strings, Sam Bush, the Gibson Brothers, Sierra Hull, and the SteelDrivers.

Sam Bush and Del McCoury

“Attendance is staying up there good, and it’s fun,” Del says. “It’s not a bluegrass festival, it’s just a music festival. We have a lot of bluegrass bands there, you know, but we have jam bands, and we have country acts, man, you name it. We had jazz bands, we had a mixture of music, and I like a variety of music my own self. I figured, if we have a variety of bands, some folks will come to see one band, then these folks will come to see another band, and that’s how you get your fans.”

Rob McCoury adds, “I thought having the festival was a great idea. We’ve played hundreds if not thousands of festivals through the years. So I think it was just the natural progression to have a festival of our own. I guess the most surprising thing is, the small details that add up to big things, that no one realizes is going on behind the scenes.”

Asked about the reward of all that work, he answers, “The fans, no doubt about it. All those folks come to DelFest, and anytime dad walks on stage at his own festival he’s a rock star. To me, it’s just the coolest thing.”

Rock star. Bluegrass Hall of Fame member. A nine-time IBMA Entertainer of the Year. Dad. These are just some of the ways you can describe Del McCoury. Winding down the interview backstage at the Opry, he pauses for a moment when he’s asked how he’d like the Opry family to remember him.

Finally, he says, “You know, I guess I’d want ‘em to remember me like a guy that never expected to be an Opry member. I knew I would play music, for years and years, but I thought, ‘The Opry is something is really special and I don’t know if they’d want me there.’ I was fortunate that they did, and I’m just so grateful. I hope they just remember a country guy that really loves the Grand Ole Opry and loves music.”

The Travelin’ McCourys, Vassar McCoury, Del McCoury, and Dierks Bentley


Photo credit: Chris Hollo / The Grand Ole Opry

Del McCoury’s 80th Birthday at the Grand Ole Opry in Photographs

As bluegrass fans know, Del McCoury is kind of a big deal — in fact, the Grand Ole Opry briefly renamed itself on Wednesday (February 13) in his honor when the “Grand Del Opry” event gathered good friends like Dierks Bentley, Sam Bush, Béla Fleck & Abigail Washburn, Vince Gill, Jesse McReynolds, Old Crow Medicine Show, Marty Stuart, and the Travelin’ McCourys to celebrate the legendary musician’s 80th birthday. Happy birthday, Del!


The Travelin’ McCourys’ Ronnie McCoury, Rob McCoury and Alan Bartram with Del McCoury



Sally Williams, Grand Ole Opry; Del and Jean McCoury; Dan Rogers, Grand Ole Opry



Del McCoury Band with Dierks Bentley and special guest Vassar McCoury on “upright bass.” 



Sam Bush and Del McCoury



The finale of the Grand Del Opry


Photo credit: Chris Hollo, The Grand Ole Opry

Deanie Richardson, “Soppin’ the Gravy”

Nashville often feels like a town simply saturated by fiddlers. It is Music City USA, after all, and of that music, most is centered on the pop country machine, which thankfully still sees fiddles as prerequisites for most of the music being fashioned, manicured, produced, and cranked out by this city writ large. In and amongst the myriad fiddles and bows it takes a singular musical voice to stand out.

Deanie Richardson has just such a voice. Her fiddlin’ is just as fiery and unyielding as any other fiddler on the scene, but without ever being overbearing or cliche. She balances Texas influences and contest styles with her immaculate bluegrass chops — and that balance makes her the perfect shoulder to tap for all manner gigs, from house fiddler at the Grand Ole Opry, to touring with Vince Gill or Patty Loveless, or decidedly less normative-country acts like the Chieftains and Bob Seger.

Her anchor though, has always been bluegrass, and when she isn’t out cutting up and bringing slap-happy joy to the people with her currently Grammy-nominated ensemble, Sister Sadie, she’s making bluegrass/fiddle records like Love Hard, Work Hard, Play Hard (available now on Pinecastle records). Close friends and musical compatriots like guitarist Brandon Bostic (Patty Loveless, Blue Moon Rising), mandolinist Ashby Frank (Special Consensus, Earls of Leicester) and banjoist Gena Britt (Sister Sadie) round out the band du jour on “Soppin’ the Gravy.”

It’s a tasty barnburner that’s as precise as it is breakneck fast, with Deanie’s endless embellishments demonstrating that a) she has the listener exactly where she wants them and b) she’s having a whole lot of fun with it. If you’re craving a fiddler that stands out, grab a biscuit and hit play, because there’s plenty of deliciousness to sop up with “Soppin’ the Gravy” and we ought not waste a drop.

The Golden Age of Bluegrass… The ’90s?!

With the following eleven songs, we will convince you, the bluegrass jury, that neither the ‘40s, the ‘50s, the ‘60s, nor the ‘70s were the golden age of ‘grass. Before the bluegrass gods and all these gathered here today we unabashedly assert: the ‘90s were the absolute best years for bluegrass!! Consider the following evidence:

Lonesome River Band – “Long Gone”

Remember the days when LRB was a quartet and there was a critical mass of mullets among their members? Such a small lineup and still somehow a supergroup: Dan Tyminski and Ronnie Bowman dueting the life out of it, Sammy Shelor pulling for his life, and Tim Austin demolishing the flat-top. Woof.

J.D. Crowe – “Blackjack”

The ‘90s were the golden age of bluegrass and the bluegrass supergroup. The TV show American Music Shop, which ran for three years starting in 1990, often amassed the best star-studded lineups of the time period – like this one: J.D. Crowe, Mark O’Connor, David Grisman, Tony Rice, Jerry Douglas, and Glen Worf.

Laurie Lewis & Friends – “Texas Bluebonnets”

Laurie Lewis won Female Vocalist of the Year from the International Bluegrass Music Association only twice — once in 1992 and again in 1994. We could rest our ‘90s-bluegrass-is-best case on that fact alone, but we’ll let Laurie (and Tom Rozum, Sally Van Meter, Peter Rowan, Alan Munde, et. al.) convince you with this Texas swing-flavored masterpiece.

Alison Krauss & Union Station – “Two Highways”

I mean… do we even need to contextualize this one with a blurb? Alison Krauss — before she became the winningest woman in GRAMMY history — with Adam Steffey, Barry Bales, Tim Stafford, and Alison Brown (no, they aren’t sisters, even if they do have the same name) is exactly why ‘90s bluegrass never fails us. If you happened to forget that AK is a ruthless fiddler, too, just listen to any of her stuff from this decade for a reminder.

Strength in Numbers – “Slopes”

We continue with supergroups, for a moment, this time regaling in the new acoustic, esoteric instrumental, 1990s beauty of “Slopes” played by a group of folks you may know: Béla Fleck, Mark O’Connor, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, and Edgar Meyer. Makes you wanna time travel, doesn’t it?

Dolly Parton – “Train Train”

Everyone’s favorite songwriter, actor, country star, business mogul, theme park owner, and literacy advocate made one of the best bluegrass records in the history of the genre in 1999 — and of course the world went crazy for it. She took bluegrass places it too-rarely appears with a band that could’ve sold out a nationwide tour themselves. Iconic.

Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder with the Del McCoury Band – “Rawhide”

Del and the boys cleaned up on the IBMA Entertainer of the Year awards between 1990 and 2000, winning the organization’s top honor a total of five times during that span. Ricky never truly left, but he visibly returned to dominating bluegrass in the 1990s, touring with Kentucky Thunder. Talk about a golden age!

Emmylou Harris, Ralph Stanley, Dwight Yoakam – “The Darkest Hour”

Once again, we thank American Music Shop for bringing together a seemingly disparate yet totally seamless power collab. One of the best things about bluegrass is the shared vocabulary, the commonality of the songs. Just throw a bunch of folks up on stage and have ‘em sing one together!

Nashville Bluegrass Band – “On Again Off Again”

Best decade for bluegrass = best decade for bluegrass music videos, too. (Sure, all music videos, but especially bluegrass ones!) This one is just deliciously retro and it doesn’t hurt that the Nashville Bluegrass Band is not only freakin’ stacked with talent, but they knock out these mid-tempo, sultry, vocal-centered songs better than anybody else.

Lynn Morris Band – “Love Grown Cold”

Lynn Morris has been unconscionably underrated for her entire career. Just listen to this. She had her heyday as an artist and band leader in the ‘90s, winning multiple Female Vocalist of the Year awards and even a Song of the Year, too. That banjo pickin’ definitely deserved better recognition, though. Hell, the whole kit-and-caboodle deserved more recognition. If you take away anything from our journey back through this bygone era of great hair choices and clothes that go zip-zop it should be a never ending love and appreciation for Lynn Morris.

Vince Gill, Alison Krauss – “High Lonesome Sound”

Two roots music icons of the decade, collaborating on a song that tributes the father of bluegrass himself, it’s just too perfect. We rest our case. May 1990s bluegrass live on forever in our hearts, our ears, and our mullets.

Glen Campbell’s Final Coda: An Interview with Carl Jackson

In the wake of his Alzheimer’s diagnosis in 2011, country legend Glen Campbell embarked on a Goodbye Tour, released a documentary film titled I’ll Be Me, and — in true Rhinestone Cowboy fashion — went back into the studio. The result is his final album, Adiós, out earlier this month. Produced by long-time friend and banjo player, Carl Jackson, alongside Campbell’s wife and children, Adiós is a collection of Campbell’s favorite songs and the career touchstones that he hadn’t gotten around to recording in the past. Highlights abound at every sonic turn, from Campbell’s children harmonizing on “Postcard from Paris” and his rendition of Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right” to his duet with Willie Nelson on Nelson’s classic “Funny How Time Slips Away,” Vince Gill’s feature on the Roger Miller tune “Am I All Alone (Or Is It Only Me),” and Campbell and Jackson’s interplay on “Everybody’s Talkin’,” which the two performed together on the Sonny & Cher Show in 1973. The constant through line is Campbell’s signature croon.

While his memory and ability to play guitar were already deteriorating by the time these sessions began, he channeled the songs with the help of Jackson, who printed out the lyrics in large print and walked him through the process line by line. Wrought with heart and grit, Adiós is a celebration that solidifies Campbell’s legacy and serves as a testament to the essence of the Rhinestone Cowboy: his voice. “[Glen’s] in Nashville now and he’s very well taken care of at a wonderful facility and he can’t communicate, but you go see him and he still sings,” Jackson says. “He still sings. It was his life. You can’t understand what he’s saying, the lyrics, you know, because he can’t communicate, but the tone is there. It’s an amazing thing. He’ll never stop singing, I don’t believe.”

You first met Glen and joined the band when you were 18 years old. Those are formative years, your late teens and 20s. Would you say that you came into your own while on tour with Glen? What did you learn from him?

It certainly continued, the growing up process. I had been with Jim and Jesse since I was 14, so I had a lot of experience from being out on the road already. But going with Glen, gosh, it was one of the greatest things that could have ever happened to me. He was such a great entertainer, singer, guitarist — just the best. I mean, I always tell people he’s absolutely the best singer I’ve ever heard in my life, just amazing talent, and on top of that, such a good person, such a good man. Glen and I became family almost instantly. I mean, it was just a mutual respect and love for each other that carried on all through all of these years. I traveled the road with Glen for 12 years, from 1972 to 1984, but that friendship and love has continued on all these years. And to get to do this final project with him just means more to me than I know how to say, really.

But yes, it was a very formative time and a great time. We were all over the world together, playing music literally all over the world, and I tell people — and this is true also — Glen featured me on every show we ever did. I mean he would bring me out front: He actually would leave the stage and introduce me, and he would always say, “Here’s the world’s greatest banjo player.” Whether that was true or not, I did my best to live up to it at the time. He was so good to me and he put me in front of millions of people, and it just meant the world to me, and I’ll always treasure those times. I could go on and on, obviously, about those times, so I’m gonna leave it at that.

Let’s talk about “Arkansas Farmboy.” That’s one that you wrote back on one of those tours, right, that you were on with Glen?

Well, it was during that time. I wrote it some time in the mid- to late-70s while I was with Glen. I mean, we went overseas many, many, many times, but I believe it was on a flight to Australia. I know we were over the Pacific Ocean. I know that. Glen told me a story about his grandaddy teaching him how to play “In the Pines” on a $5 Sears and Roebuck guitar. And I just thought that was the coolest thing that he remembered that precisely and I just got to thinking about how that little $5 guitar led to an absolute fortune and worldwide fame and stardom — just from one little $5 guitar. And it gave me the idea for the song and the title, “Arkansas Farmboy,” that just was kind of natural. That just kind of fell out because that’s what Glen was and is, to this day. I mean, Glen never left his country roots and his down-home upbringing. He never left that. He was Glen Campbell, country boy. I mean, you met him and he was the same, always. He treated everybody the same whether it was somebody waiting on us at a restaurant or if it was the Queen of England. It didn’t matter. He treated everybody with the same respect and love. He’s just the greatest.

What was the timeline for recording this record?

It was done over a period of time. It was after the Goodbye Tour. It was pretty well after when some people thought it was pretty impossible to get anything from Glen. But he wanted to do it so much and it was, again, that love and family thing made this possible. There was so much trust and love between me and Glen. Honestly, and I don’t say it — I don’t want it to come out in any boastful manner at all ’cause that’s not what I’m saying. There was just so much love and respect in the room, and Glen trusted me so much that I believe I was able to get things out of him that probably couldn’t have been done by anybody else and it was with joy. I mean, we laughed so much in the studio and had so much fun that it was just, I don’t know, I treasure it. And I know Glen did, too, at the time and as long as he possibly could remember it. I know he would be proud right now. I know he would. And that means more to me than anything. I wanted Glen to go out absolutely on a mountain — you know, on a high.

You just hit on this a little bit, but what was the atmosphere in the studio like during recording? Was it joyful or somber, or both?

There was no somberness, and I say that honestly. I mean, he was smiling and laughing and making jokes about himself like he always did and, if he forgot something, he just laughed about it and we did it again. He had to read the lyrics, sometimes one line at a time, but it didn’t change that perfect pitch that he retained through everything and that perfect sense of timing and that beautiful tone of his voice. The thing that went first was him being able to remember lyrics. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t sing a song straight through and remember everything. He couldn’t play guitar anymore straight through a song. But I was able to get it and because I knew him so well, I knew his phrasing. And also, the fact that he was familiar — as familiar as he could be — with the songs that we did. These were songs that he loved his whole life, so they were ingrained in his mind still, as much as anything could possibly be, if that makes any sense. So we purposefully sat together and found songs that he truly wanted to record that he had never gotten to record before.

I love the snippet of Roger [Miller] before “Am I All Alone.” Where did that recording come from? Is it from a cassette that Glen has?

Yes, that was a cassette that Kim, Glen’s wife, she had kept that all these years. Roger played that for Glen the first time he heard it at Roger’s house in Santa Fe, New Mexico, over 30 years ago. Kim had kept the tape and she gave it to me, and we thought it would be a really cool idea just to let Roger introduce the song that way, because that’s literally the first time Glen had ever heard the song and he remembered it all these years and always loved it, but just never got around to cutting it before. So it was just one of those things, “Hey, we have to do this song!” You know, he’d pick up his guitar all through the years and sing a little bit of that song. And there were others like that — “A Thing Called Love” and “She Thinks I Still Care” and “Don’t Think Twice.” He rarely picked up a guitar without playing some of those licks off of “Don’t Think Twice.”

That’s my favorite Dylan song. I like what y’all did with the beginning.

It lent from Jerry Reed’s version. Jerry showed Glen that lick on the guitar that he put on his version of it, and then Glen showed it to me and passed it on. Glen showed it to [his daughter] Ashley. It’s carried on down through the years, so we kind of leaned on Jerry’s version there a little bit because that’s the version that Glen loved so much, so I kind of did the guitar solo stuff similar to Jerry’s version.

What was it like having Willie [Nelson] in the studio?

[Laughs] Well, I’ve been blessed to work with Willie several times over the years but, as always, it was fun. It’s fun to be together with him. I mean, he keeps things light and joyful, jokingly. Willie’s one of those troopers — one of those guys that that’s all he’s ever done and he loves it so much. I mean, he really wanted to be a part of it. When he heard that I had cut the song and he heard the version that I had cut, he was happy to be a part of it, and I just thought it would be a really cool idea because Glen, again, sang that song for so many years and he never cut it. We would sing it on stage. I mean, we would do it on stage a lot, when I was with him, and he would just occasionally bring it out, just, “Hey, let’s do ‘Funny How Time Slips Away,'” and he’d just start singing it. So it was, again, kind of a natural to do. And I had played some of the early stuff I had when I cut the tracks, I played them for Buddy Cannon, who’s a friend of mine and Willie’s producer, and he said, “Man, I’ve gotta play this for Willie. He’s gonna love it!” And I said, “Well, do you reckon that Willie would wanna play on it and sing on it a little bit?” He said, “Aw, man, I’ll bet he would.” And sure enough, when Willie heard it, he loved it and so it was a joy. You asked me how it was: It was a joy.

You also had Vince Gill as a guest on the record. Did he come into the studio to record or was that done at a later time?

Well, there’s so much history there, too, with me and Vince together. That was a natural thing, too, and I’ll tell you how that happened: Vince and I have worked together so much over the years. We did the Angel Band record together with Emmylou [Harris]. Gosh, I sang on “Oh, Carolina” — a couple things on Vince’s very first EP, when he got his first deal on RCA. I mean, we go back a long way. We’ve been friends a long time and, pretty much every project I do, I always ask Vince if he wants to be a part of it. And so, I was over at his house and we actually were working on the Orthophonic Joy project that I produced — the tribute to The Bristol Sessions. We were working on that, and I told him that I was gonna do this stuff on Glen, and we got to talking and it came up that he had never, as many people as Vince had got to sing with, he had never gotten the opportunity to sing with Glen. I said, “Well, buddy, I’m gonna give you the opportunity to sing with Glen.” So I made sure that I saved a part for Vince to do, and he told me it was just one of the thrills of his life to get to sing with Glen Campbell. So I wanted to make that happen not only for Glen, but also for Vince. And plus, nobody can sing it better than Vince anyway.

It really did fulfill a dream for Vince, too, and I certainly wanted it to happen. And he’s a dear friend, so that one was easy. I took it over to Vince’s house. We didn’t do it at the same time, obviously. We overdubbed it at Vince’s house, but I am happy it happened and, once again, I know that one of these days, when Glen is listening from up above, he’ll be very proud of that, very happy that we did that.

When it came to incorporating Glen’s children, how did you land on “Postcard from Paris” and that particular line for them?

First of all, it’s another great Jimmy Webb song that Glen absolutely loved and I absolutely loved. I was familiar with the song from Jimmy’s record. He did a record produced by Linda Ronstadt years ago called Suspending Disbelief and it had that song on it and it had “Just Like Always” on it and it had “It Won’t Bring Her Back” on it. Several of those songs, I was very familiar with and, of course, Glen loved the songs, too, so again, they were natural things to do. And “Postcard from Paris” was a very special song.

When we were cutting it, I didn’t think so much about the line, “Wish you were here,” as it kind of related to Glen’s condition. I mean, we didn’t cut it because of that. We just cut it because it was a great song. But then, after I cut it, I got to thinking, “Well, gosh, this would be a great one to have Ashley and Cal and Shannon sing harmony on.” And then, specifically, that line — it just makes it so emotional to hear because we do all still wish he was here. But that didn’t even come into anybody’s mind, when we picked the song, and neither did “Adiós.”

“Adiós” is just a great Jimmy Webb song that Glen and I love. He had never cut it before, and we decided to cut it, but we didn’t even think about it being the last song on the last album. That wasn’t a thought. Things like that just kind of fell into place and it seemed a natural thing to do then. When Universal picked up the album, I mean, I have to honestly tell you, I thought the album would be called Arkansas Farmboy. But when Universal picked the album up and decided they wanted to put it out and promote it, they immediately went to Adiós. And I’m like, “Well, okay, I understand that. I understand what you’re saying.” We didn’t even think that way, at first. I know I jumped from “Postcard from Paris” to “Adiós,” but it was a similar situation where those lines in “Postcard from Paris,” we didn’t do the song on purpose to pull at people’s hearts but, after the fact, it certainly pulled at people’s hearts.

Listening back, taking into consideration the circumstances, there’s a lot of dual meaning on this record. Even “Ain’t It Funny How Time Slips Away.”

I’m just like you, honey, when I listen to it now, I’m like, “Oh my gosh, listen to what that’s saying!” “Everybody’s Talkin'” is the same thing. We didn’t think about that. That was just a song that Glen loved and we were going through songs. I’m not ashamed of it at all, but I just feel like God’s hand is on the project and on Glen. The whole thing just came together, I truly believe, in the way that it was supposed to. Glen Campbell is just the best, and I mean that with all my heart. He’s the best singer that I’ve ever heard and I mean that technically, as well as just beautiful to my ear. His voice always was — and I realize people can have different things that they like and I’m sure there are people that would argue, “Oh, he’s the best” — but I’m talking not just how pleasing his voice was, but how great he was technically. I tell people to go find me a bad note on YouTube and I’ll pay ya for it. I mean, the guy, he was amazing. We cut live shows over in England, where we did a live TV show with a full orchestra and us as the main band — we did ’em live in front of a live audience to tape and I listen to ’em now and they literally sound like they’ve been tuned. The guy was amazing as a singer. Just perfection. And I know I could go on and on, but I could never say enough about him and about just how great he was. And I wanted people to still see that and still realize that, and I hope this album does that.

It truly is a gift.

To this point, every review I’ve seen and every interview I’ve done, people are so kind about this record and so, the word “gift” has been used so many times and that means the world to me because that’s exactly what we intended and what we wanted to give the world. We wanted to give ’em Glen Campbell — here he is just like always, once again. People tell me that, “Oh, he’s singing so great,” and I’m like, “Yeah, just like always!”

In Honor of a ‘Savagely Great’ Singer: A Conversation with The Time Jumpers’ Vince Gill & Kenny Sears

Any fan of roots, country, or Americana music has surely heard the Time Jumpers before — rather, they’ve likely heard at least some portion of the Time Jumpers before. A top-notch collection of session musicians, songwriters, and performers, these star players have made Monday nights in Nashville — first at Station Inn, now at 3rd & Lindsley — an international destination for fans of traditional country and Western swing music. The regular lineup features industry legends like Vince Gill, “Ranger Doug” Green, Jeff Taylor, Billy Thomas, Larry Franklin, Brad Albin, Joe Spivey, Kenny Sears, Paul Franklin, and Andy Reiss, whose names are sprinkled across the liner notes of some of the biggest records in music history — within country’s confines and beyond.

As the Time Jumpers, the group’s standing live gig has led to tours, studio sessions (keep an ear out for the band on Kacey Musgraves’ upcoming Christmas album), and most recently their own original full-length, Kid Sister. The album has been more than two years in the making, finding its meaning in the tragic loss of Time Jumpers’ female vocalist, Dawn Sears, whose husband Kenny remains an integral part of the group.

The Time Jumpers are a bunch of individuals who have plenty of other musical outlets in their lives. Where does this standing gig with the Time Jumpers and the music you make together fit into your life?

Kenny Sears: We actually got started jamming in the dressing room over at the Grand Ole Opry. There were several of us that would get together in the dressing room, and we were playing Western swing and traditional country kind of things. We had such a good time doing that we decided to find us a place to play — play once a week — and just have fun with this.

A former member, Hoot Hester, who just passed, and I were playing fiddles and he found the Station Inn, which had always been closed on Monday night. They had never had a show on Monday. It worked out perfectly, because Monday was a good night for us; it didn't interfere with anything else. That's how we started. We just started getting together to play for fun.

In those days, we outnumbered the audience most of the nights, but we didn't care. We didn't care! It's not why we were there. We were just doing our thing and having fun and people found out about it. The crowds grew and grew. We outgrew the Station Inn and had to find a bigger place because we were turning away so many people. There'd be people coming from other countries — they'd come and plan their vacation around Monday night and then they couldn't get in. So we started playing at 3rd and Lindsley, and now we pack that out every Monday.

Vince, you came along later — what got you into the group?

Vince Gill: It's just a bunch of great musicians that play predominately a lot of Western swing music, which I grew up listening to — being from Oklahoma and immersed in that world. They played every Monday night, and several of my friends were in the band. I found myself down there on a lot of Monday nights just listening and occasionally sitting in.

They started asking me to sub for different people that couldn't make a Monday. One thing led to another and they said, "Would you ever have an interest in being in the band?" I said, “Sure, I could do this,” honestly thinking it was going to be predominately Monday nights. I was never working very often on a Monday, so I said yes. Then everybody wanted to make some records, so we stated making a few records. Then we had the opportunity to maybe go out and do a little bit of traveling and do some gig dates, so that's been fun. It's blossomed into more than I thought it would at the get-go, but it's just always been about trying to play great music with great musicians. Those guys are a great example of that.

More than anything else, these gigs just sound like fun. Do they affect the way you approach your other projects?

VG: I think, at the end of the day, what this really does is make me a better musician. Getting to play with these guys and play more of a bee-bop and swing and jazz spirit than so much country and blues or rock 'n' roll or any other those things that I normally associate myself with. It's a chance for me to become a better musician and a little more well-rounded.

KS: Most of us have made a living recording for other people most of our lives, and that training just conditions you to be somewhat of a chameleon. You have to be able to play any- and everything, if you want to eat. We're all pretty good at adapting, you know.

 

For

I don't know if Time Jumpers affect other recordings, but all of that experience certainly affects Time Jumpers recordings. When we go in there, we kind of just get together and work out arrangements on the spot. There are no egos involved, so we just choose the best ideas. Everybody throws in an idea and we're all very good at picking what works, and we'll go with that, no matter who came up with the idea. We do that when we're recording for ourselves.

VG: It’s a lot of fun. We all call it therapy — go down there and get to play what we love. All the guys in this band are people that play for other people, or record for other people, travel with other people. It's the one avenue where everybody gets to play what they want and they have their own voice. It's kind of neat to see a band of musicians that had always been hired guns, for the most part, get to do what they want to do.

What do you love most about this kind of music?

VG: I just think it's a fun feeling. Music makes you feel good when you hear this swing beat.

I joined the band and wanted my contribution to be from a songwriter's standpoint. They have plenty of great musicians and I'm chipping in and playing some guitar and all that, but to have this kind of band with original material? I think it makes us more interesting. If we're all just out there rehashing the same songs that everybody else has been doing for the last 60 or 70 years, that's fun, too — but if we could have a presence of our own songs that feel like they're steeped in the history and in the way that kind of music feels …

I've always felt that it was a great task to write a new song and make it feel old. Not all new songs have to sound like new songs. They don't have to sound like what's going on today. On this record there's a song called "True Love Meant for Me" that sounds like an old pop standard from the ‘40s. It is possible to write those kinds of changes and those kinds of melodies, lyrics included. That's what I think is the unique about this band is the material we choose. We have an original presence.

This project, in particular, has been in the works for at least two years. Tell me about how Kid Sister came about.

VG: I had written a bunch of songs I thought suited and fit the band, so we decided to start a new record. Right after we started the record, Dawn [Sears] unfortunately fell ill and was diagnosed with cancer. She kind of lost her voice, so we shelved the record hoping that she would get better and we would just pick it up when she got better.

KS: We put it on hold for a year-and-a-half and during the time, of course, she passed. In the summer this year, we talked about it and decided that she would want us to finish this and continue on. And so we did: We sucked it up, went in, and finished recording the album.

VG: What started as just a normal record, in some ways, became a way to honor her. The first song on the record was a song that was the first thing we cut for the record. We never did get her vocals finished on it — we just had the track vocals when we cut the tracks. I didn't quite have enough to put together a complete vocal that would have passed her litmus test. She was a savagely great singer. So we came up with the idea of maybe making it a duet with Kenny.

KS: It was Vince's idea. He said, "How do you feel about singing this and we can keep the tracks?" So I said, "Okay. Well, let's see what happens." So I did. It wasn't exactly in the best key for me, so there were some lines that weren't very good, but I did. He realized the ones that she had recorded that were good were not the ones that I had, so he was able to put it together and make a duet. That's how that happened.

VG: I actually like it as a duet. So there we had a piece of Dawn singing that we didn't expect to have. The next song on the record is a song called "I Miss You" which was a song that I had written for a record of mine a couple years prior that Dawn had sung with me on. So I had a finished, just splendid vocal of the two of us singing together on this song. I thought, "I've got this song. What can I do here?" So I got the Time Jumpers to come and replace the music, play it in the style that they play in. Then we kind of re-did the song to our vocals.

You originally co-wrote “I Miss You” with with Ashley Monroe, but you re-wrote the lyrics for this album. Tell me more about that — how did it change to fit with the overall theme of Kid Sister?

VG: The original song was a song about a breakup. It started out, "Oh, how I'd wish you'd stay, your sweet love I'd betrayed.” It was in that vein. I needed to make it more about the loss of someone rather than a breakup. Then the lyric changed to "Oh, how I'd wish you'd stay, all the memories we made. I'll always wear your ring for the comfort that it brings." Then the lyric is very pointed and more about the truth of what we were all dealing with …

The last track on the album is a song that I wrote for Dawn the day after she passed. She sang in my band for, gosh, over 20 years, and was a great, wonderful harmony singer with me and sang on many of my records. She entertained live with me for all those years and she felt like my kid sister that I got to sing with.

KS: That's a song that he wrote for her funeral service. That's what she wanted. She wanted Connie Smith to sing and Vince to sing and I said, "Well, what do you want them to sing?" She said, "I don't care. Whatever they want to sing will be fine." Vince wrote one and he wrote that for her.

VG: Therein lies the reason for that song and the name of that record. We all wanted to honor our sweet friend, you know?

 

For more from Vince Gill, read his conversation with Margo Price.

STREAM: Michael Cleveland, ‘Fiddler’s Dream’

Artist: Michael Cleveland
Hometown: Henryville, IN
Album: Fiddler’s Dream
Release Date: October 7
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: "Fiddler's Dream couldn't be a more appropriate title for this album. I got to record material that I've wanted to do for a long time and I got to collaborate with friends and heroes that I've always wanted to record with. I have been writing a lot more in the past few years, so there are six original instrumentals here — three of which are mandolin tunes. Mandolin is an instrument I've always enjoyed playing, but I don't play it publicly much, so it was a real blast to get to record some mando tunes this time around. It's truly an all-star cast of musicians including Jeff White, Sam Bush, Barry Bales, Jason Carter, Vince Gill, Jerry Douglas, Andy Statman, Jeff Guernsey, Lloyd Douglas, and Paul Franklin. You may not have heard as much about Jeff Guernsey or Lloyd Douglas, but I guarantee you will be blown away by their great playing throughout.” — Michael Cleveland

That Old Feeling: Vince Gill in Conversation with Margo Price

We usually think of musical traditions as being defined by their distinctive stylistic elements: the hard-driving string bands of bluegrass; the nimble, fingerstyle guitar figures of Piedmont blues; the rhythmically frisky washboard and squeeze box of Zydeco. It’s quite possible, though, for us to hear a kinship to country tradition in the music of two artists who serve two separate audiences in separate ways. That’s certainly true of Vince Gill and Margo Price — he, the mainstream country standard-bearer; she, the indie country newcomer. They may both incorporate time-tested textures like pedal steel guitar, but they belong to markedly different traditions of countrified emotional expression.

A classically trained singer who’s cultivated a tough vocal attack, Price musters a worldly brand of feistiness and hardship-withstanding resilience that takes significant cues from Loretta Lynn. And, much as Lynn’s down-home grit has come to command the admiration of a younger generation of rock-reared fans who value rawness and autobiographical authenticity — not to mention attract Jack White as a collaborator — Price’s music holds powerful appeal for that same crowd. It’s White’s Third Man Records that is releasing her bewitching debut, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, an album that arrives with a vintage aesthetic and an underdog narrative: She had to part ways with her car and wedding ring to pay for it.

Gill, on the other hand, ranks as one of modern country’s finest, most tender voices — an openly emotional balladeer par excellence who’s equally at ease with honky-tonk weepers in the George Jones vein and sensitive, sophisticated adult-pop. That expressive range has long endeared Gill to popular country fans and made him a radio fixture through the ’90s. The same major label that was his home back then, MCA Nashville, just put out the immensely rewarding new set that he recorded in his home studio, Down to My Last Habit.

Though Gill’s singing and songwriting often exemplifies the softer side of country and Price stakes out spunkier territory, they had no trouble at all speaking across the divide.

Margo Price, meet Vince Gill. Vince Gill, meet Margo Price.

Vince Gill: Well, it’s great to hear from ya, Margo. Are you doing okay?

Margo Price: Yeah, I’m doing well. How are you?

VG: I’m just fine.

Before you got on the line, Vince, Margo and I were talking about the fact that she’s doing her very first Opry performance this Friday night.

VG: Oh, that’s awesome! It’s a big deal. You will never ever forget it, I can assure you.

MP: Thank you!

It just so happens that Vince is celebrating his 25 th anniversary as a member of the Opry very soon.

MP: Yeah, congrats!

VG: Aw, thanks. I’m just old.

[Both Laugh]

MP: Well, I’m pretty old to be making my first appearance on the Opry. Do you remember the first time that you played?

VG: I do, yeah. I got asked once to play the Opry, I think, in ‘88 or ’89. My daughter was in the second or third grade, and we were all set to do this talent show at school. She asked me to play guitar for her, so I taught her “You Are My Sunshine.” We practiced and learned it and had to make all the rehearsals. [The talent show] was all set for a Saturday night.

So I get this call from the Opry, and they said, “Hey, we’ve been watching your career. We want to invite you out to play the Opry.” And I said, “Awesome! When?” And they said, “Saturday night.” I said, “Oh, my God. I can’t make it. I’m playing at the Grassland Elementary School. I’ve gotta back up my kid.” So I kept my promise to my kid, and they invited me on down the line a little bit later.

MP: That’s really beautiful.

VG: Yeah, it was really cool. Jimmy C. Newman was the one who did the introduction, and I sang “When I Call Your Name.” That’s the first song I sang on that stage. I’d just written it and had hopes for it. I don’t even know if I’d recorded it yet.

MP: Wow, that’s really cool.

I love that we’ve begun this conversation with you two comparing stories. I’ll open with a question for both of you. I admit I almost feel silly asking this of a member of the Country Music Hall of Fame who is himself cited as an influence by so many singers. Here goes anyway: What country singer sets the bar for you when it comes to conveying emotion and being expressive?

VG: Go ahead, kiddo.

MP: Well, I have always been really drawn to a lot of singers of the ‘50s through ‘70s, especially women. Loretta Lynn, I think, is kind of where I’ve tried to set the bar. She could sing so tough, but she was always talking about something. I think Tammy Wynette, too. She could go one second from sounding really vulnerable and fragile to just kind of overcoming and somehow coming out strong, even though she didn’t feel that way. I think probably those two, and Dolly. The three of them I try to live up to, which is a hard thing to do.

What about you, Vince?

VP: One of the most emotional singers I’ve ever heard is Patsy Cline. You felt a tear in the way that she sang all the time. Then the earliest George Jones records. They sounded hungry. They sounded forlorn. They were full of melancholy. To me, that’s the epitome of a great country singer, is you honestly find the emotion, not necessarily through the words of a song but through the emotion of a singer. Come to find out, when I got to be great friends with George, he told me, “I was trying to emulate Roy Acuff.” If you listen to a Roy Acuff record, you hear him do the same kind of thing that George did, but George did it quite a bit differently, with some more soulful notes and bending notes a little differently. But there was a real similarity in them.

I remember when I was first starting to make country records, I wanted to be so traditional, but I was at a label that really wasn’t all that keen on having a real traditional roster. So I was a little bit lost. When I started on my first record, I was singing my heart out as best I could. My producer, Emory Gordy, graciously told me, “Listen, that sounds great, but we already have a George Jones. You need to find your voice. You need to find your way that you want this emotion to be conveyed. Don’t ever imitate. Be inspired by, but find your own voice.”

Vince, the most traditional-sounding song on your new album is the one you’ve dedicated to George Jones, “Sad One Comin’ On.” It’s a real weeper about being deeply affected by his singing in life and deeply affected by his passing. What went into that song?

VG: Just the truth. The greatest songs come from the truth. The truth was he lived every word of that song. All I had to do was tell his truth through my eyes. There’s one moment in that song where I really feel like I channeled him in a really beautiful way. In the last verse, there’s a line that says, “He’d tear your heart out when he sang a song.” Just the way that the word “tear” came out of my mouth, I wanted that to be an instant where it sounds like George.

Margo, I’ve read that you have an interesting connection to George Jones. Is it true that your great uncle is the songwriter Bobby Fischer, who wrote Jones’s “Writing on the Wall”?

MP: Yeah. He actually just had his 80th birthday. His daughter surprised him by getting everybody to sing songs that he wrote. Of course, I picked “Writing on the Wall.” That’s one of my favorites. It was so nerve-wracking. I sang it in front of him and Dickey Lee. George is probably the greatest singer of all time. It’s crazy that he lived the way he did and he could still belt.

Vince, you’ve joked that you cried like a baby at George Jones’s funeral. I was listening live on WSM that day, and I think you filled a really important role in the collective grieving process when you sang your song “Go Rest High on That Mountain” and got so overcome that you couldn’t get the words out.

VG: It was interesting, because I think it gave everybody the okay to let go. Before [I sang], it had all been so performance-oriented that, when I kind of lost it, it gave the room the ability to cry. … Truth be told, what really tore me up was hearing Patty’s [Loveless] voice — the sound of her voice and mine and the history of the two of us [singing together]. We were there getting up for George. So it was a combination of all those things: the passing of one of the true greats.

What’s it been like watching “Go Rest High on That Mountain” become a modern-day standard that people turn to for comfort?

VG: It’s pretty overwhelming, honestly. I was not gonna record that song back in the day when I wrote it. My brother passed in ‘93, and that was my way of honoring my brother and grieving for him and putting it in a song what I hoped was in store for him. I’m so grateful that we did choose to put it out. I guess people have said it’s become the modern-day “Amazing Grace” almost. … When people wanna turn to something you’ve gone and created, in their hardest of times, I can’t even describe how grateful I am [for that].

Not all the songs on your new album are melancholy, but a lot of them really testify to the depths of people’s feelings toward those they love or desire, those they’ve delighted in or let down or been wounded by. For you, how is that kind of sensitivity linked to mature expression?

VG: All I know is that all I’ve ever wanted was to be moved by music, not so much to be impressed. Certain voices can sing all the notes, all the runs, all the licks, or a guitar player can play every note in the book, and at the end of the day, you go, “Well that was impressive, but it didn’t do anything to stir an emotion in me.” That’s kinda what the whole point of it has been for me.

Margo, you were joking earlier that you’re belatedly reaching this point in your career. You’ve been grinding it out in small clubs for a dozen years now, something like that.

MP: That sounds about right.

Since this is your first album under your own name, it’ll be most people’s first chance to form an impression of what you do. The title you chose, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, brings to mind Loretta Lynn’s Coal Miner’s Daughter. What appeals to you about drawing a connection between where you’re coming from and where she was coming from?

MP: It was definitely kind of a nod to her, and also a nod to the Beach Boys’ song [“Farmer’s Daughter”]. It just felt really good to be honest and say where I’m from. I wasn’t born in the South, and sometimes people wanna make a point that I’m not allowed to sing country music or something because of that.

There have been great Canadian country singers.

MP: Yeah. I mean, you’d be surprised when you look back. Connie Smith, she was from Ohio. But yeah, I think it was nice to say something simply about who I am and where I came from.

To get a little more specific, how did Loretta Lynn’s tough-talking tell-offs, songs like “Fist City” and “Don’t Come Home a-Drinkin” and so on, influence some of your songs, say, “About to Find Out,” for instance?

MP: [Laughs] That’s a very good comparison between the three that you just mentioned. That one [“About to Find Out”] definitely mirrors the attitude in her songs. I just always loved that she was able to talk about things and not shove an idea down someone’s throat, but maybe [show] the other side of the coin. “The Pill” and things that she really went out on a limb to do, that kind of writing and living on the edge excites me.

You sing from the perspective of somebody who’s lost the family farm, or who’s spent a weekend in jail, or who’s been kicked around by life and the music industry — someone who’s gone through all that stuff and is a scrappy survivor. That’s the persona I get from a lot of your songs. What feels right to you about singing from that place?

MP: I think, for so long, I was writing from a different point-of-view. That may or may not be why it’s working now and it wasn’t then. I think, like Vince said earlier, the best thing about songs is honesty. An honest song is a good song. I feel really confident when I sing it, because I’ve lived it. It’s a form of therapy, I think, to just get it out and wear my heart on my sleeve a little bit. Plus, everybody loves an underdog.

Have you noticed that people seem to really place a lot of importance on the idea that the hardships you’re singing about are literally your autobiography?

MP: … It’s been interesting that that’s what people want to talk about. I guess the songs are interesting. I think, when I was writing 10 or 12 years ago, I didn’t have a lot of life experience. Like Vince was saying earlier, when your brother passed and you wrote that song, you kind of go into survival mode of, “How do I make myself and other people able to cope with tragedy?” Through that, you get thicker skin and you move on and, hopefully, you can share some of what you’ve learned with the folks around you.

Vince, the way you use your voice — the vibrato and curlicues and bent notes — makes a tremendous difference in making people feel a song. What would you say it takes for you to put that tenderness across vocally?

VP: Well, I think that the key to great singing is when you don’t; it’s when you stop. And what I mean is, if there’s this long line of words, it’s kind of like breathing. You want the listener to be able to take a breath, too. So often singers will sing all the way across the end of a phrase, all the way through, so that they cover up where maybe the hi-hat ends or the guitarist does what he does or whatever. The point of it all is to make room for everybody. That includes the singer.

I think a voice is either interesting to you or it’s not. It’s not going to be more interesting to you if you can sing more notes or if you can sing louder or harder or what have you. … What’s funny is, most singers will find a thing that they think is their thing, their go-to thing. And, to me, it’s generally the least appealing thing that they do. [Laughs] I don’t know why that is, but I’m sure that’s true in my case, as well. There are some go-to things that I think are my thing and everybody will roll their eyes and go, “That’s not what it is.”

MP: [Laughs]

VP: So I don’t know that I’ve got the answer to what it is that I do that people are drawn to. I’m grateful that they are. I think it’s the ability to be subtle with what you’re trying to do.

Margo, you have that no-nonsense, tough vocal attack and hard-edged phrasing. People have compared it not only to Loretta Lynn but also Tanya Tucker, and I’d throw in Wanda Jackson, too. How do you feel like you summon toughness in your approach to singing?

MP: You know, I had so many years of classical training. I was in choir and sang a lot in church and my mom would drive me 45 minutes up to this voice teacher in the city. She would teach me all the things, but it really is about just the raw emotion underneath it. I’m sure I still use some of my technique here and there, but I don’t find myself over-thinking it, because that’s when I’ll mess up. Growing up, too, in the school choir that I was in, the choir director, she never wanted to give me solos. Every now and then I would get to be in an ensemble. It was just like Vince was saying — people either like your voice or they don’t. And I think some people really love my voice because it’s different and it stands out. I’m sure other people are just not sure what to think of it. It’s got its own thing. I don’t quite know how to explain what I do, I guess.

I’d love to close with another question for both of you. We’ve been talking about the emotional traditions that you’re each working in. How do you feel like masculinity or femininity shapes what you do? How do you make use of either in your expression?

MP: You wanna go?

VG: Go ahead, buddy.

You’re both so polite!

MP: I know. Too polite.

… I do love a lot of male musicians and songwriters. So I feel like there’s part of me that’s always been a little jealous of the way that guys have the ability to sing more powerfully. Sometimes there’s this misconception that women have to sing pretty. I guess I like a good mix of the two. I’ve kind of been trying to get back into exercising my head voice a little more, because I do use my belting chest voice a lot. Like I said, I have classical training and I would sing mezzo-soprano Italian songs. I really exercised that delicate, sweet voice. But I think that, for a long time, I’ve kind of wanted to do the opposite and belt things out like Hank or Merle or George — or even women who commanded it, even Etta James or soul singers that really drove it out. You know, you have to find a good balance that works for you. Hopefully I’ve landed somewhere in the middle of that.

VG: [Laughs] You’re asking a question about masculinity and you’re talking to a guy that sings higher than most women on the planet. I already sing like a girl.

I just think that the real key is more about the soul that you bring. You sing what’s appropriate for the song you’re singing. … All you really want to do is sound authentic when you’re singing. You don’t want to sound like, “Hey, I’m a country singer singing a rock tune. Hey, I’m a jazz singer singing a country tune.” I think that each song is gonna dictate the way you should sing it. You may wanna sing it hard, but that could be wrong. I think that it’s more a song to song choice. I can honestly say I don’t think anything about masculinity at any point when I’m singing.

[All Laugh]

I really appreciate you both being good sports about this.

VG: It was fun.

MP: Yeah.

VG: Margo, have a great Friday night. I’m happy for ya.

MP: It was really an honor to speak with you today. I’m not gonna lie: I was a little nervous.

VG: Don’t be!

MP: You’re so sweet.


Illustration by Abby McMillen. Vince Gill photo by J Wright. Margo Price photo by Angelina Castillo for Third Man Records.

Get Off Your Ass: It’s April, Fools!

Langhorne Slim with Sam Outlaw and Susto // Roxy Theater // April 29

Slim’s funky punk twist on country and folk is the leading lane in this packed highway of an evening full of country boys. Tickets

BGS Presents Birds of Chicago // Largo // April 6

Allison Russell and JT Nero bring together '60s soul, mountain gospel, and folk in a way that grooves so well that you know their live performances are on another level. Tickets

Noah Gundersen // The Hotel Café // April 6

Gundersen’s wistful vocals — accompanied by surging strings and melodic guitar and piano — are reminiscent of the best '90s indie music and bound to entrance any audience. Tickets

The SongBirds // The Hotel Café // April 13

Drawing a spotlight to the jazzy trios of the '20s, '30s, and '40s, the SongBirds are three talented women in their own right (Gaby Moreno, Erica Canales, and Dannielle DeAndrea) who form a unique time capsule of energetic and sliding harmonies. Tickets

Chris Stapleton // The Greek Theater // April 27

Without a doubt, the most unmissable act of the year, Stapleton snatched up several awards this year for his breakout solo album after years of hanging out behind the scenes. His wife Morgane is a talent in her own right and performs alongside Chris and, if you need more convincing, please just listen to their hauntingly special rendition of the old classic “You Are My Sunshine” on the new Southern Family LP. Tickets

Rayland Baxter // 3rd and Lindsley // April 7

Baxter has had quite the journey given his young age — his lulling guitar picks hit body-resonating notes that provide the perfect platform for his lyrics to ring out over. Tickets

Kelley McRae // Bluebird Café // April 10

McRae’s quiet storytelling is fed by a vocal tone that blazes an arrow path straight to the heart with its honesty, making her a perfect match with the legendary Bluebird for an evening marking the release of her newest album, The Wayside, out April 7. Tickets

We’re All for the Hall featuring Keith Urban and Vince Gill // Bridgestone Arena // April 12

Celebrating the sixth year of this star-studded benefit for the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, hosts Keith Urban and Vince Gill cover a range to bring together a seriously packed night with guests including Jason Isbell, Emmylou Harris, Peter Frampton, and Florida Georgia Line. Tickets

Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals // Ryman Auditorium // April 22

Reuniting yet again, Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals funk up the Ryman with their soulful reggae-blues-rock hybrid sound promoting their new album, Call It What It IsTickets

Fireball Mail // Station Inn // April 30

The four members of Fireball Mail are deeply rooted in the bluegrass tradition (and have appeared with legendary names to prove it) honing in on accelerating harmonies and improvisation. Tickets

Pokey LaFarge (with the Cactus Blossoms) // Music Hall of Williamsburg // April 3

Prepare for an incredible evening filled with music that appears to have time traveled — LaFarge and his impressive band bring lively ragtime country to the stage after an Everly Brothers-esque opening act from the Cactus Blossoms. Tickets

Brooklyn Folk Festival // St. Ann’s Church // April 8-10

Filled with musical performances (Spirit Family Reunion, Feral Foster, the Downhill Strugglers, Roy Williams, and many, many more), workshops, film screenings, dancing, and an iconic banjo toss — there’s a whole lot to enjoy in the eighth year of this festival. Tickets

BGS Presents Sierra Hull // McKittrick Hotel // April 19

Hull is a young master of the mandolin benefitting from the best of bluegrass as her mentors and producers (that would be Alison Krauss and Béla Fleck). Catch her at this unique venue, the Heath, at the spooky speakeasy-esque McKittrick Hotel. Tickets

Julien Baker // Bowery Ballroom // April 27

Baker’s Memphis-born talent is making loads of waves with her debut, Sprained Ankle, showcasing her alarmingly heart-wrenching songwriting and stripped-bare sound. Tickets

Parker Millsap // Bowery Ballroom // April 29

Millsap has a voice that just as easily belts and growls as it does sail on a high, clear note trailing off into a soft vibrato. Pick up Millsap’s new album, The Very Last Day, and don’t miss his utterly electrifying performance. Tickets