Gimme That Old-Time
Non-Monogamy

At times frowned upon or occasionally slandered, covers are as deep-rooted as the songs and the emerald valleys that have produced them.

Indeed, covers stir discussion, spark research, and add another patch to the great heart-sewn embroidery of music. Fashioned in a similar vein to the original – that’s flattery. When a song circles across genre divides, well, that’s an enriching voyage.

The members of Kissing Other pplRachel Baiman and folk duo Viv & Riley – see their endeavor not just as an individual artistic sojourn but as a larger opportunity to establish a collective conversation. Here, they’ve taken a handful of mostly rock and pop songs and blended, marinated, and sautéed them in unfamiliar flavors. The end results turned out nearer to their own identities.

“I grew up playing traditional Appalachian style,” said Riley. “This is not that!”

Baiman is a sincere and dogged lyricist, with a harmonious ear and a top contender’s punch. She grew up in Chicago, with a factory-made violin in her hands and an insatiable curiosity for why and how music could conform and contort to her swiftly evolving moods. Somewhere along the line, she started getting serious about music and purchased a John Silakowski five-string fiddle on a lengthy installment plan. She arrived in Nashville at age 18, riding fragile finances. Slogging on foot, lugging her fiddle in a hard, cumbersome case, she lacked the extra dollars to hail a taxi. Her odd jobs were many: dog walking; catering; reading novels and writing summaries for a sociology professor; she once even held a job organizing a comedy contest. But a fearless, tenacious sense of purpose compelled her to stick with music.

Pondering all of these circumstances in her heart, Baiman released several persuasive projects, including Shame (2017) and Common Nation of Sorrow (2023). Riley Calcagno, one half of the contemplative folk duo Viv & Riley, added stringed support and pre-production assets to one of Rachel’s albums.

Subsequently, Baiman asked Riley and Vivian Leva (the other half of the duo) if they’d be willing to join her on tour, where long hours on the road were spent in between gigs consuming, swapping, and contemplating music. Baiman’s traditional background taught her how to fully perceive a recording – whether an old fiddle tune or multi-generational, passed down ballad, or even a contemporary pop song – to not only hear it superficially, but to visualize its promise. Through prolonged stretches of asphalt and expressway, she’d oftentimes wonder what she, if given the opportunity, could bring to a certain song.

 

@kissing.other.ppl♬ original sound – kissingotherpplband

“The idea stems from Rachel’s musical generosity and curiosity and the extended times in those van rides,” said Riley. “Eventually, the songs included were the ones that we’d all individually had been listening to and were moved by. Songs that had stopped us in our tracks at different realms of our lives. Songs that hit us emotionally or otherwise… spontaneously contributed in the week that we recorded them.”

Some of Riley’s earliest memories are of his father’s fondness of traditional music. His father played the guitar, fiddle, mandolin, and banjo. At age 3, the younger Calcagno expressed interest in the fiddle. Though he was raised in an unrelentingly urban environment in the heart of Seattle he was never far from the folksy hospitality of music: square dances, jams, and potlucks. At the Wintergrass Music Festival in Bellevue, Washington, he formed connections with musicians originating from the sparsest, most countrified swaths of the state.

“I discovered an authentic-feeling bluegrass scene in the state and an old-time rural music scene on the West Coast that was kept going by people living in cities,” he explained, “and I don’t see that at all as contradictory.”

Like many other kids his age who grew up in Seattle, beginning in middle school, Riley burned liberal hours listening to local indie rock, though the attachment he had made with traditional music would override all else. He met Vivian Leva at a music camp in the Seattle area which emphasized the cultural importance of preserving long-standing traditions.

“I was a fan of Viv’s parents’ music,” said Riley. “We started playing music right away. Viv is a gifted songwriter. We started passing ideas back and forth. That was eight years ago.”

Vivian Leva was born and raised in Lexington, Virginia, in the Shenandoah Valley close to the abounding cultural and geographical influences of Charlottesville, Roanoke, and the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s a small town with a deep worship of bluegrass and old-time narratives.

“Before I was born, it was a big hub of old-time traditional music,” said Viv. “Young people moved here for the rich, blossoming scene. My dad came here at 18 and stayed forever.”

Viv’s father, too, took a particular interest in the fiddle, traveling to neighboring counties and states to observe and jam. Her mother sang and guitar-picked, emulating and scrutinizing the local and regional ballads she had fallen in love with. They attended old-time fiddler’s conventions as a family. And when her parents formed a duo and headed out on the highway, sometimes she would share in such jaunts first-hand.

“When I was little I went on tour with them for a bit,” said Viv. “As a teenager, I was playing in my dad’s bands. As a kid he would bring me up to sing a song on stage.”

Certainly, music has long filled the souls of Rachel, Viv, and Riley with good things – and Kissing Other ppl is a remembrance of affection as much as it is a representation of impression. Indeed, Baiman said that Kissing Other ppl is a natural extension of her – and her counterparts’ – inquisitiveness, their attempt to understand the mysterious processes of expression, meaning, and memory.

“In reality,” said Rachel, “I don’t think any band or musical project should attempt monogamy, because you miss out on so many opportunities to learn and grow and bring new inspiration back to your main role.”

Similar to Rachel, Viv finds original songwriting to be a sacred, mysterious place to dwell. But she also believes that covers are a part of the whole process of an artist’s maturity, the recognition of the music of one’s friends, mentors, neighbors, and across-the-board community.

“There can be a stigma about covers,” she said. “You can’t make it your own. You are not creative enough to make your own music. It’s a shortcut. It’s a cop out. But as someone who has written a lot of songs and released a lot of records of original music, and plans to do so in the future, I don’t see it that way. It is an acknowledgment of how being inspired by other people’s music is such an important part of creating your own music. You can’t make your own music in a vacuum.”

“Anytime that you are playing a song, you are creating it again in the moment, and re-interpreting in your own way,” added Riley. “Whether it is a cover or an old traditional song, you still have the power to sing it and do it in a way that really moves someone.”

Baiman said the intuitive, empathetic nature of the type of music she plays requires that she be an attentive observer as well as a cordial, broad-minded learner – prerequisites for a collaboration of this sort.

“I think that having a background in old-time and fiddle music in general really prepares you to be a musician who listens,” said Rachel. “If you approach any musical situation with the mindset of, ‘Can I do something to help support the group musically here?’, that goes a long way.

“Old-time really prepares you for the idea that your best contribution might be not to play at all. The bar is really high for joining in, you have to make sure you’re adding something that isn’t already there, and you’re not dragging down the groove. That’s part of the etiquette of informal jamming and it translates to professional playing.”

A fine cover such as the group’s rendition of Wilco’s “Ashes of American Flags” not only illuminates a previous desire, elevating or enriching it with brand new urgency, but in some fashion it obliges the total re-evaluation of the original.

“There are people who are not able to handle ‘Ashes of American Flags’ because of the context, or they come from a different generation, or they don’t like Jeff Tweedy singing it,” said Riley. “Why not give a song like that another chance or give it another life? If you have a song that’s fun, or one that hits hard, emotionally, lyrically, or harmonically, maybe you can add to it, instead of just burying it on a playlist.”

Riley notes that many of the greatest records and biggest chart sellers are in fact cover-centric productions, though they might not have been advertised or promoted as such at the time. Many great albums are rife with songs written by others, sometimes entire roomfuls of songwriters on Music Row. Many memorable albums, such as Bob Dylan’s 1962 self-titled debut, only have a small number of originals; among the traditional folk and blues arrangements, Dylan’s had but two.

Indeed, Kissing Other ppl simply builds on a long tradition of artists rearranging songs that they like and then reinserting them back into the public sphere of approval.

“We seem to be obsessed with originality in our current moment and society,” said Riley. “But we are also at a time when art and – the pursuit of it – is less funded and less valued monetarily than ever. So many of the great records that we love are cover records. Ours isn’t heavy-handed.”

Perhaps one sterling example of a cover album that marvelously nudged old material into fresh fields was Tim O’Brien’s Red on Blonde, on which O’Brien grabbed a handful of Dylan songs, tinkered with their framework, and dragged them into bluegrass brightness. Many of these songs have stuck around since the album’s release in 1996 and bluegrass buffs routinely call out titles such as “Señor (Tales of Yankee Power)” and “Farewell Angelina.”

One of the record’s most memorable tracks is a rendition of Jason Molina’s “Hold On Magnolia,” which draws out the spookily and eerily beautiful essence of the inscrutable artist’s mystifying original. Rachel’s fiddle punctuates the abstract stylishness with characteristic splendor and aplomb.

“Jason Molina [1973-2013] was one of the greatest songwriters,” said Riley. “He grew up in Lorain, Ohio, and he went to Oberlin College, where I went. He had a rough life and died of alcohol-related complications. He left so much amazing music behind… if even one person hears our version and goes and listens to his records then it is a job well done.”

Alluding to Molina, Viv noted the deferential nature of covers and their special reward.

“That’s the cool element of doing a record of covers,” she said. “You can inspire people with that special song that resonates and if they haven’t heard of that artist, they can go back and listen to their work.”

On both “Hold On Magnolia” and “Ashes of American Flags,” Viv found herself in the new position of playing the drums. She sensed the two songs required the presence of drums and their inclusion was inspired by her simple desire to test the unfamiliar.

“One of the incentives I had to go to guitar lessons when I was younger was that my teacher would let me play drums for the last ten minutes of the lesson,” said Viv. “During COVID, Riley surprised me with a drum kit. He got an electric guitar. We were having fun during the lockdown in our basement. We were doing less folk music, and experimenting with instruments outside of the immediate folk genre. So, I took a crack at it.”

“I think it is a testament to the spirit of making the record that we felt comfortable putting her on the drums,” added Riley. “[Producer] Greg D. Griffith made the snare drums sound huge and awesome, adding a big element to the tracks.”

One song that Viv introduced to the project was “Born to Lose” by Waylon Payne, and the diversity in these respective arrangements is startling: Payne’s original was supported by a complete country band; the new offering is sagaciously stripped down, extracting every syllable of bitterness, sorrow, self-loathing, and private turmoil from the lyrics.

“I had been particularly into this artist, Waylon Payne,” said Viv. “His vocals are really fascinating to me. His ornamentation is really incredible. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what he was doing. I was definitely interested in trying to get his vocal ornaments similar, because I think that they are really beautiful.”

The spacey, moody “Where’d All the Time Go?” by Doctor Dog was another one of Rachel’s proposals.

“That is a fun song to do as a trio, because of its echoing harmony parts,” said Viv. “I would have never picked that song for myself to learn. That’s what made it challenging. It took me outside of my vocal comfort zone, and that was a fun challenge for me.”

The name of the band, Kissing Other ppl, is a teasing affirmation of one of the pop songs covered on the album, a soft, mischievous Lennon Stella song released in 2020.

“It has a fun and flirty vibe,” said Riley, “but it also gets to something funny and true about relationships. It captures the lightness of the experience of playing music and hanging out, and not taking yourself too seriously. It was Rachel’s idea and she stuck with it. It is awkward and funny, and why not? Life is short.”

Baiman said the namesake reveals a good-natured admittance of the diversionary quality of art.

“Coming from two different projects that are based in original music and collaborating on cover songs,” said Rachel, “we chose the band name as a playful nod to the idea that we were cheating on our own projects by trying something different and new.”

The trio intends to take their reincarnated versions on the road. Beyond that they have no fixed plans to continue – or, for that matter, discontinue – sewing and hemming their skills and interests together.

Indeed, sustained in its own special love and humility, kissing other ppl expresses not just innovative lyricism and beautiful buzzes, but a powerful sense of understanding. What Rachel, Viv, and Riley all agree on is that the genre or style of its communication is less important than the nourishing energy and want that necessitated its assembly.

“In the end, a lot of the songs are ambiguous,” said Viv. “It is hard to say exactly what some of the songs are about. We are not spelling out what you should be thinking or feeling. It’s just cool to see how other people are able to communicate things in totally different ways than how you would communicate them. But somehow it still hits you.”


Photos courtesy of the artist.

Viv & Riley’s Tradition and Innovation on Basic Folk

Vivian Leva and Riley Calcagno, known as Viv & Riley, dive deep into the nuances of old-time music, their folk influences, and the process behind their album, Imaginary People. The duo, who ​met ​at ​a ​music ​camp ​in ​Port ​Townsend, ​Washington, trace their roots from Riley’s disciplined musical practice to Viv’s intuitive approach. The two found inspiration from growing up in the Seattle area listening to KEXP to living in Portland, Oregon, to their current home in Durham, North Carolina. Drawing on their experiences at fiddlers conventions and music camps, Viv & Riley reflect on the transformative power of collaboration and the vibrant community that has shaped their unique sound in their duo as well as their other band, The Onlies.

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As they share insights into their songwriting process, the episode unravels the intricate layers of Imaginary People, delving into the harmonious blend of indie roots and experimental production that defines their latest release. With a nod to their eclectic influences, including the supportive atmosphere of Durham, North Carolina, the duo discusses the evolution of their sound under the guidance of producer Alex Bingham from Hiss Golden Messenger, who produced their latest album.


Photo Credit: Libby Rodenbough

One to Watch: Viv & Riley Are Much More Than Just Old-Time or Americana

Comprised of singer-songwriters and instrumentalists Vivian Leva and Riley Calcagno, Viv & Riley are an up-and-coming musical duo that defy definition. Their new album, Imaginary People, is a masterful blend that weaves together their shared reverence for traditional Appalachian music alongside indie-folk, pop-leaning adornments. The result is an emotionally potent 10-track album that covers a vibrant range of personal and universal truths — from the bittersweet nostalgia of visiting a beloved childhood hideaway decades later, to the poignant curiosities that accompany reckoning with climate grief.

Based out of the dynamic music scene in Durham, North Carolina, this duo is currently on tour across North America. With their insightful explorations of the past and creative probings of the future, Viv & Riley uncover rich and complicated explorations of what it means to be alive in this precise moment.

So how did the two of you first start making music together?

Vivian Leva: Well, we first started making music together when we first met in 2016, the summer after we both graduated high school. I grew up in Lexington, Virginia, and Riley grew up in Seattle, Washington, and we just happened to meet at a camp in Port Townsend, Washington. It’s one of those camps that has weeks back to back — there was a vocal week that I was teaching with my mom, and then Riley came to teach fiddle the following week. We happened to overlap by a few days, and Riley was there with his band The Onlies. The first night we met, we played music together all night! After that, I joined the band, and we also started playing together as a duo and writing songs.

Riley Calcagno: The origin of our sort of band, our duo, came later that year, in the fall. We had been communicating and texting some music back and forth, and then Viv invited me down to Asheville to play a gig with her and her dad. I was a fan of her dad, James Leva, for his fiddle and singing, so we did that gig. But we thought it’d be also fun to try out some duo material while we were down in the same place, even though we had never played songs just the two of us. We emailed a venue in Asheville called Isis Music Hall, which was a prominent venue there at the time. Somehow they slotted us in, on a Wednesday night, into this big hall that they had — 200-person capacity, maybe bigger. We had never played music together going into that, but we put together some material and we enlisted some friends to play with us. It was a bold move! Talk about faking it until you make it. Only about 15 people came out to the show, and I’m sure it sounded terrible. But it was fun!

That sounds amazing. So how would you describe your musical chemistry? What is it like playing together?

VL: ​​Well, I think our initial musical chemistry initially came from our shared background in old time music and traditional music. That first night that we met, we played a lot of fiddle tunes, old music, and traditional songs. So it kind of began from a place of excitement about being exactly the same age, having never before met, and somehow both being raised around this same music that we have a shared respect and love for. So that was the initial spark of actually finding another young person who’s into the same niche genre and community. But since then it’s totally stretched into other realms. We are both so open to other kinds of music, and we have very similar tastes and aesthetics. It’s very easy to create music together because we come to it from a similar place.

RC: One of our dynamics in making music together has also been sharing our individual strengths with the other person. When we first started playing together, I couldn’t really sing harmony or find a harmony part. Vivian was very patient with me and helped me learn, and I still feel like I’m getting better all the time. That’s exciting!

VL: I just play guitar, and Riley plays every other instrument. He’s a great fiddler, guitar player, banjo player, mandolin player— instrumentally he brings so much to the table. And I feel I bring a lot of singing and songwriting-focused material to the table. We stretch each other, fill in the gaps for each other, and learn from each other.

What a beautiful thing! So what do you each feel like the biggest difference in your respective musicianships is?

RC: Viv is a very natural musician. She grew up traveling around with her parents as they toured, sitting in on harmonica at her dad’s gigs when she was only three or four. I also was born and raised around music, but it was a bit more formalized, whereas Viv’s music just comes very naturally and it’s not forced in any way. She does what she does super well and consistently and steadily, and I’m a bit more erratic. I take chances and get obsessed with things and take big leaps that sometimes fall flat. Every time she steps on stage, Viv can knock out a great performance, and I feel more streaky.

VL: But he tries lots of different things! And like he mentioned, Riley has a more formal background in music. He took lessons, he learned how to read music, he knows music theory, he did classical violin. So I think a big difference is that he technically knows what’s going on, whereas I don’t have the language or skills that he has. I’m definitely more intuition based than technically based.

You really balance each other out! So your new album, Imaginary People, just came out on September 15, and I’m wondering how your songwriting, as it appears on this album, has shifted since you first began as a duo.

RC: Well, in the past, before we started writing music for this record, we were living in different places so it was a lot of collaboration from afar. A lot of the songs on our last record came from texting voice memos back and forth. And you know, it’s not utterly different to work on them in person, but some of these new songs came out playing them together in the moment.

VL: Another big difference is Riley has started writing way more. So I think there’s more of an equal voicing on this record than in the past. There’s more of his perspective in it. And I think now that we’re living in the same place it’s also allowed us to write about a more diverse range of things. We’ve written a lot of intense emotional, romantic songs in the past, but in this recent past couple of years, we’re more interested in other things, like our shared experiences about other parts of life.

RC: And it’s also partly stylistic. Our last record was pretty much a country record. During that time, I was listening to a lot of classic country music, and this time we were listening to a wider range of things. Having a broader array of influences definitely helped us push the narrative forward.

What are you each proudest of on the album?

VL: I think what I am most proud of isn’t a specific track or anything — mostly it’s this feeling that I unlocked something. I think I let go of some fears in the process of making this record. I felt more free to just say yes to trying new things and became less concerned with things like what genre it was going to be considered, or if the people who liked our last record would like this record… and so on. I stopped worrying about categories like, “This doesn’t sound traditional enough,” or “This isn’t country enough,” or “That’s too rocker or indie.” Instead, I was able to adopt the mentality of “Hmm, that sounds interesting, let’s try and just do what feels fun!” I think I’m most proud that I was able to do that. It felt amazing to take things a little lighter and to roll with ideas that felt a little outside of the mold.

RC: When you start making music, being young musicians, you get immediately labeled. It’s not something that I think either of us necessarily anticipated, but when that first record got classified, people said it was Appalachian and classic country. And then the next one was classic country and Americana. Like “Hits-the-Spot Americana,” whatever that means. And I think there’s an urge for musicians, when you get labeled as something, to keep reproducing it. There’s this toothlessness to the modern Americana music label— it’s the creation of music that is literally meant to sound like other music under a category. I don’t have a problem with genre or specifications, I think it’s oftentimes useful, but it’s [useful] when you’re trying to reproduce sounds so that you can cater to an audience, it’s like you’re trying to sell something in a market that’s already been created. I think that can be the “dampification” of art. And while I think there’s been so many amazing things created within the Americana industry, I also think it often leads to less creativity and less interesting music.

Coming out of our last record, we had some buzz in the Americana world, and it would have been easy for us to make another “Hits-the-Spot Americana” record. But I don’t think that we did that, and I feel proud of that. Like Viv was saying, we didn’t just do what we were supposed to do. You know, there’s synthesizers, but there’s also a fiddle track, and personally, I think it all works together. So maybe if you’re an Americana devotee, you’re not going to love this album, but that’s okay with me. I think there’s a power in making an album that the machine doesn’t really know what to do with. The machine can make up albums and spit them out, but I feel proud that this one isn’t something that can just be spit out because of how we combine traditional and non-traditional music. For example, there were super organic moments where we all stood around one mic and sang together, coupled with other moments where we had things locked in, produced, and added synths because a particular song called for it. Making those two things coexist in the same ecosystem was definitely a challenge, but listening to the record, I think it all makes sense together.

It’s an album full of teeth! Now, before we wrap up, I have to ask: you’re our One to Watch, but who are you watching right now? Any creatives, musical artists, or otherwise that are inspiring you right now?

RC: One is our neighbor in Durham, North Carolina, Alice Gerrard. She’s almost 90, and she’s putting out a record on this indie label from the area called Sleepy Cat. She’s collaborating with a bunch of young people and their art for the record, like making these amazing videos. It’s a really cool thing! People around here are really conscious and thoughtful about aesthetics and sound and ethos. Everything is done with integrity, so it’s a cool scene around here in that way. Alice makes amazing music, I’m really excited for her upcoming record — I think we’ll all be glued to it once it comes out. Another one is our friend who we wrote two songs with on our previous record, “Love and Chains” and “Time Is Everything”— often people’s favorite songs of ours. I just had the honor of producing his upcoming record under his band’s name, Preacher & Daisy. I love the music, so I definitely want to give them a bump! The fun thing is that all this music is sourced locally from the Durham, North Carolina area, where we’re based.

VL: Some folks I’m enjoying listening to right now, not that they’re not already being watched, are: KC Jones, Canary Room, Dori Freeman, Alexa Rose.


Photo Credit: Libby Rodenbough

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 201

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, the Radio Hour has been a weekly recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on BGS. This week, we’ve got music from Ani DiFranco, Andrew Marlin, and a Whiskey Sour Happy Hour appearance from Chris Eldridge! Remember to check back every Monday for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

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Ani DiFranco – “Simultaneously”

Longtime voice of social change and activism through her music, Ani DiFranco brings us a new album, Revolutionary Love, at a time where we so much need it — a time marked by social and political unrest, racial equity, and the COVID-19 pandemic. While DiFranco usually has a busy tour schedule, the past year has been an opportunity to spend time at home with family, write a children’s book, start a free radio station, and write a musical about restorative justice. All of that in ONE year.

Melissa Carper – “Makin’ Memories”

Coming March 19, this Texas-based artist brings us Daddy’s Country Gold. BGS caught up with Carper on a recent 5+5 to talk about influences, memories, nature, songwriting, and the first moment she knew she was going to be a musician.

Elise Davis – “Empty Rooms”

Although the pandemic has been hard on everyone, musicians have a unique experience – most were accustomed to singing in bars and halls every night, for different crowds, in different cities. Even the empty rooms are missed, suggests Elise Davis in this new single from her upcoming project, Anxious. Happy. Chill. 

Mando Saenz – “Shadow Boxing”

From Corpus Christi, TX, singer and songwriter Mando Saenz – AKA ‘Mando Calrissian’ – graces the show this week with with a song from his newest album, All My Shame. His mission statement? To create music true to his heart and inspirations. It doesn’t get much truer than that.

Andrew Marlin – “Oxcart Man”

In 2018, Andrew Marlin (of Mandolin Orange) released his first solo album – a collection of mandolin-based old-time instrumentals entitled Buried in a Cape. Now after nearly 3 years, Marlin returns to the medium with twin albums of a similar aesthetic – Fable & Fire, Witching Hour. 

Six-String Soldiers & The SteelDrivers – “Long Way Down”

The United States Army Field Band teams up with bluegrass favorite The SteelDrivers for a new collaborative video of “Long Way Down.” From Alabama to their home in D.C., the Six-String Soldiers have been able to collaborate with the SteelDrivers a few times now.

Vivian Leva & Riley Calcagno – “Will You”

A couple of grown-up old-time festival kids, Vivian Leva and Riley Calcagno bring us a mixtape of their “old-time deep cuts” this week. From Roscoe Holcomb to Foghorn Stringband to Hazel & Alice, the duet offers their playlist in celebration of a newly released self-titled album.

Valerie June – “Why the Bright Stars Glow”

Tennessee-born and Brooklyn-based Valerie June is our March Artist of the Month here at BGS! Stay tuned all month long for exclusive interviews and content regarding her new album, The Moon and the Stars: Prescriptions for Dreamers.

Melody Duncan – “Over the Hill”

Aging is something that none of us escape. Melody Duncan relishes in the life lessons that we’re given from unavoidable challenges and growth opportunities, in exchange for more time here on Earth. Like a journal entry, “It’s a dedication for all of those willing to invest in a good today,” says Duncan, “even if our bones ache in the morning.”

Nathan Vincent – “Blue Ridge State”

It’s hard to end something, even when we know we have to. For Texas-based Nathan Vincent, the title is a physical place and an emotional one – and like the mountains, the relationship in the song rises and falls. Vincent and his crew journeyed to Asheville, NC to shoot the video, a “visual motif” that accompanies the sentiment and progression of the song.

Emily Moment – “Master of One”

From her upcoming The Party’s Over, London-based Emily moment brings us a song this week about our hurtful behaviors. We’re drawn to the things that hurt us so much, suggests Moment – like the Fugu fish in Japan, whose tastiest part is closest to its poison.

Chris Eldridge – “Angeles”

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year since COVID changed all of our lives. We’re looking back at some of our virtual series from last year, highlighting the many performances which deserve to be seen more than once. This week, we’ve got Chris Eldridge (of the Punch Brothers) with a cover of Elliot Smith’s “Angeles” – a tribute to the city where BGS was born.

Ariel Posen – “Now I See”

Sometimes the smallest realizations can lead to the biggest breakthroughs, suggests Ariel Posen. From his new album Headway, this song is about self acceptance, and finding belonging among our imperfections.

Adam Douglas – “Joyous We’ll Be”

By taking a stand against the political and social challenges that we face, Adam Douglas offers this song for a brighter future. From watching his home country since 2016, seeing everything that was hidden rise to the top, Douglas was troubled by the viewpoints of so many. “It’s not an anti-45 song though,” he says. “It is an ‘anti-idiot’ song.”


Photos: (L to R) Andrew Marlin by Lindsey Rome; Chris Eldridge; Valerie June by Renata Raksha

MIXTAPE: Vivian Leva & Riley Calcagno’s Old-Time Deep Cuts

We were both old-time music festival kids, showing up at our parents’ jams with dirt-covered feet, stopping for a moment to listen to the tunes and songs that would undoubtedly carry on late into the night. When we met and first played music, it wasn’t to write or sing songs, but to stay up all night playing fiddle tunes, thrilled by the parallel experiences we shared that allowed playing together to feel effortless. Though the songs on our upcoming duo record aren’t traditional and draw a wide net of inspiration, we aimed to have the groove and groundedness of string band music woven into the feeling of the album.

This playlist includes some of our favorite (deep) cuts of old-time music, at least the ones that have been published for streaming and don’t linger on a cassette or family archive. We selected these to give you a sense of how each song or tune has spun a web of connection that somehow wound its way in our direction. We chose many songs that are somehow close to us and the people we know. We chose some that, by their very existence, make clear the injustice that this music and the people who make it are grappling with and/or trying to overcome.

Old-time music isn’t any one particular thing, but is instead filled with contradictions. Even its name feels odd to write and at odds with how we view it. Yet, it is the music that feels like home to us. Come and join our tragic and raging old-time party. – Vivian Leva and Riley Calcagno

Dirk Powell – “Three Forks of Cumberland”

This is one of our favorite recorded instances of old-time music and its unique, reckless drive. This twisty tune is a rare occurrence of a melody that came from sheet music, off the Hamblon family manuscripts. Dirk Powell is joined here by the original members of Foghorn Stringband, recorded live in Eugene, Oregon. You can hear us play this tune live during a jam at the Appalachian String Band Music Festival in Clifftop, West Virginia, on this Bandcamp release.

The Renegades – “Chilly Winds”

In the ‘90s, Vivian’s parents, Carol Elizabeth Jones and James Leva, played in The Renegades with Richie Stearns and June Drucker. Their combination of old-time string band music, harmony singing, and original songs are unique and well-crafted. Riley discovered this band in his dad’s iTunes library in high school before ever meeting Viv and was instantly hooked. Here, they play a song from the Round Peak region of North Carolina called “Chilly Winds.”

Lily May Ledford – “White Oak Mountain”

Lily May Ledford of Powell County, Kentucky sings this song of a woman who has been betrayed and seeks revenge. Ledford was the leader of the Coon Creek Girls, a widely recognized string band from the ‘30s to ‘50s. Viv’s mom Carol Elizabeth Jones sings this song (with the name “44 Gun”) on the recently re-released 1991 cassette, Rambling & Wandering, by the Wandering Ramblers.

Tara Nevins – “Rocky Island”

This record from Tara Nevins is one of our favorite traditional/original fusion projects. Check out that bouncy electric guitar… wowza. This one is sung by Jim Miller, now one of our label-mates with Western Centuries.

Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard – “Let Me Fall”

Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard sing this Round Peak classic on this practice tape, recorded live in Alice’s kitchen and released by Free Dirt Records.

Tommy Jarrell – “God Gave Noah the Rainbow Sign”

The musician who arguably had the most influence on today’s old-time music scene is Tommy Jarrell of Surry County, North Carolina. Tommy welcomed younger visitors in the 1970s and ‘80s (including Viv’s dad, James, on many occasions) to his house to learn tunes, swap stories, and pass on ideas about the music. Inspiration from Tommy’s playing, especially his bowing, has spread throughout the old-time scene. For more of Tommy, check out this video of Tommy and his frequent musical partner Fred Cockerham playing on a porch in 1971.

Paul Brown – “Red Clay Country”

Paul Brown beautifully picks the banjo and sings this old song on his record of the same name. He learned it from his mom, Louise Dichman Brown, who learned it in the 1920s from two brothers, John and Harry Calloway of Bedford County, Virginia. Paul told us that there are some early recordings of this song on so-called “race records,” the name given to records released featuring Black musicians in the highly segregated and exploitative record industry. This song in particular was a work song, sung by workers on the railroads. These laborers were often wrongly convicted Black people working dangerous and sometimes deadly jobs. Kevin Kehrberg and Jeffrey A. Keith write about this in their research on Swannanoa Tunnel (both the song and construction of the tunnel), a song that is similar to “Red Clay Country.”

Plank Road String Band – “Sail Away / George Booker”

This band came out of Vivian’s home county, Rockbridge County, Virginia, in the 1980s and features her dad James Leva. This track was featured on The Young Fogies, a compilation of the old-time music community during the ’80s revival era. The fabulously frenetic cello, played by Michael Kott, is unique for old-time music, as is the tenor banjo played by Al Tharp. The band had a few successful and influential tours in Scandinavia.

Bruce Molsky – “Last of Harris”

John Morgan Salyer of Magoffin County, Kentucky, was a fiddler who lived from 1882-1952. Though music was never his career, he played unique, often “crooked” (meaning an unexpected number of beats in each part) versions of fiddle tunes. His family recorded him at home in the 1940s, but these recordings weren’t made publicly available until nearly 50 years later thanks in large part to the work of Vivian’s grandfather, Loyal Jones. Here is one of our favorite Salyer tunes, played by one of our favorite fiddlers, Bruce Molsky (along with his partner, Audrey Molsky) on his 1993 Yodel-Ay-Hee cassette, Warring Cats.

Foghorn Stringband – “Best Timber”

Riley grew up around the band Foghorn Stringband and absorbed their uniquely driving sound at Stickerville in Weiser, Idaho, at the Portland Old-Time Music Gathering, and in lively kitchen parties around the Pacific Northwest. They learned this tune from the great Midwestern fiddler, Garry Harrison.

Gribble, Lusk, and York – “Rolling River: Country Dance”

Murphy Gribble, John Lusk, and Albert York of Warren County, Tennessee, were one of the best string bands of the 20th century. Even so, they were never commercially recorded because they were a Black string band at a time when record companies wouldn’t record such a band. (Black musicians were essentially barred from recording string band music and their recordings were segregated into “race records” which we mention above.) Murphy Gribble’s banjo playing in this recording is especially notable as creative and exceptional three-finger picking. More resources on Black string band music is on our friend, spectacular musician, and labelmate Jake Blount’s website. More writing on Gribble, Lusk, and York in an article by Linda L. Henry here.

Roscoe Holcomb – “Hills of Mexico”

Speaking of divine picked banjo, Roscoe Holcomb of the town of Daisy in Perry County, Kentucky, sings this story, “Hills of Mexico.” Mike Seeger, at a performance at Holcomb’s nursing home in Hazard, Kentucky, said that what set him apart is “that he had that real drive, like he really meant it… he had real conviction to his playing, and of course he sing with that high voice, and he’d take a lot of those old mountain songs and make them real special.” Viv’s mom, Carol Elizabeth Jones, also sings this song on a recording with The Renegades.

Bigfoot – “The Dying Cowboy”

Susie Goehring of Northeastern Ohio sings this heartbreaker on the great album by elusive string band Bigfoot. Rhys Jones plays some appropriately mournful fiddle lines under the vocal on the recording. We aren’t entirely sure where Susie learned it but Vivian sings a version from Sloan Matthews, recorded in Pecos, Texas, in 1942.

The Onlies – “Look Up, Look Down”

We also play in an old-time string band called The Onlies that Riley started with his friends Sami Braman and Leo Shannon when they were seven years old. Viv joined in 2017 after a chance meeting during the days between Centrum’s Voice Works and Fiddle Tunes workshops in Port Townsend, Washington. This track is sung by Leo on The Onlies newest record. We learned this version from the great Gaither Carlton.

The Humdingers – “Cumberland Gap”

There is something difficult about capturing the distinct energy of a string band on a recording. Often the best music happens late at night, far off in a field, and certainly never gets uploaded to Spotify. Here is a recorded instance of a band finding the center of the groove on one of the best fiddle tunes there is, “Cumberland Gap.” This recording is of the band The Humdingers with Brad Leftwich on the fiddle, Linda Higginbotham on the banjo uke, Bob Herring on guitar, Ray Alden on banjo, and Dirk Powell on bass.


Photo credit: Brendon Burton

LISTEN: Vivian Leva, ‘No Forever’

Artist: Vivian Leva
Hometown: Lexington, VA
Song: “No Forever”
Album: Time Is Everything
Release Date: March 2, 2018
Label: Free Dirt Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘No Forever’ this past summer while I was teaching out at a camp in Big Sur, California. I hadn’t written in a while, but I wanted to take some time to try while I was in such a gorgeous place. Sitting outside, the incredible mountains, ocean, and wind all around me inspired me, within minutes, to write this song. It’s about someone who is in love, but who is distrustful about how long even the best relationship can last. They know that they want it to last forever, but they don’t believe it’s possible.” — Vivian Leva