Shawn Camp Pays Homage to A Childhood Hero on The Ghost of Sis Draper

From the half dozen records under his own name to hits co-written for Garth Brooks, Brooks & Dunn, Blake Shelton, and Josh Turner; playing with Jerry Reed, Alan Jackson, Trisha Yearwood and the Earls of Leicester; or his work on Willie Nelson’s GRAMMY winning album, A Beautiful Time, in 2023, Shawn Camp has done just about everything in his 30+ year musical career.

But with his latest project, The Ghost Of Sis Draper, he’s able to cross off another box off his bucket list – making a concept album. According to the Arkansas native, the album’s origins trace back to the late ‘90s with his close friend and longtime collaborator Guy Clark, centering around a larger-than-life figure from Camp’s childhood named Sis Draper.

After laying the project’s foundation with the lead track “Sis Draper” one fateful day, the pair later penned “Magnolia Wind” soon thereafter with other songs slowly trickling out whenever they reconnected in the years that followed. Once the songs were all written, Camp took them to Nashville’s famed Cowboy Arms Hotel and Recording Spa – now the Clement House – where he knocked the entire record out in only one day.

Per Camp, the immediacy of his time in the studio helped to keep its collective sound cohesive – like Willie Nelson’s Red Headed Stranger and other standout thematic country albums that came before it. And, by the sound of it, there’s more like it coming soon.

“I’ve got lots of ideas for concept albums and songs I won’t release until I have a record like that to include them on,” Camp tells BGS. “I’ve got about 14 songs on another that I started recording last year that were inspired by Johnny Cash and Cowboy Jack Clement that’ll likely be out next year as well. It’ll be a lot different from the Sis Draper stuff, because we recorded it like Johnny Cash & The Tennessee Two – stripped down with an electric and upright bass – but in a similar fashion all belong together.”

Ahead of the release of The Ghost of Sis Draper, Camp caught up with BGS to discuss his relationship with Clark, musicals, the album’s old-time ties and more.

When did you first connect with Guy Clark?

Shawn Camp: I had a country label deal with Warner Bros. Records in the early ‘90s and in 1993 the people there asked me if I could write with anyone in Nashville, who would it be? I shot for the moon and said, “How about Guy Clark?” and before I knew it I was sitting across the room from him writing [“Stop, Look And Listen (Cow Catcher Blues)”] from my second album, 1994, that Warner shelved until 2010.

Guy was known at the time for writing songs that in parentheses included a second title he’d refer to them as and that was one of them. When you go to the Country Music Hall Of Fame now his entire writing room and workshop is on display there and it’s exactly the way it was the day he died. You can walk up to the glass and see his writing tables, his ashtrays, his guitars and all of his work tapes that he would record the day he wrote each song. He would spin around and write the title on the spine of a cassette to stick on a rack on the wall behind him. If you look into that room right now you can still see the cassette for “Stop, Look And Listen” about waist-high two or three feet from the wall on the right. It’s just a real treat to see his work environment that I spent so much time in up close again.

Years ago, I remember Guy getting mad at a fiddle he couldn’t get into tune so he smashed it into smithereens and stuck it up in his attic in a fiddle case. He got to telling me about it one time and crawled up there and set it down on his bench and it’s still laying there to this day. It’s been wild to see how they number and photograph everything so they can get it back to exactly how it was – it was a real trip to see.

How did the idea for this Sis Draper album first come about a quarter century ago?

I was just sitting around with Guy trying to write a song, but got stuck. It led to us talking for an hour or so until I eventually got around to telling him about a lady I knew in Arkansas named Sis Draper. She had a big beehive hairdo and a fiddle she carried around in a coffin case that she’d shred these old-time fiddle tunes on. Before I ever saw her, my grandpa and Uncle Cleve built her up as such a superstar that she was a world traveler in my eyes, even though in reality I don’t think she did much traveling at all.

After telling Guy about her I remember him leaning back in his chair, taking a big drag off a cigarette, and saying, “That’s your story right there,” which led to us writing more songs about Sis Draper and my family that together make up this new record.

Were there any differences in how you approached writing or recording this project compared to your other non-conceptual work?

We recorded it all in one day with the same musicians, so when you listen it doesn’t sound like a hodgepodge of different sessions and trying to make them fit together, because it basically happened live. In the past I’ve spent eight or nine months just recording the songs, but with Sis Draper it was easier to streamline because all the songs already sounded similar and fit together.

What motivated you to keep returning to this project through the years?

It’s taken a long time to come to fruition. [Laughs] We first started in the late ‘90s and would work on it anytime we got together and didn’t have other stuff to work on. We’d always thought about it being a musical play too. I even have started writing dialogue to turn these songs into that. It’s always been in the back of my mind, but now that Guy’s gone it felt like I needed to go ahead and get it into this form.

What specifically interests you about a play format?

I’ve always loved acting, even though I haven’t done much of it. I’d love to do it more and a play would be a cool way to accomplish that.

Several of the songs on Sis Draper have roots in old-time music. What made you want to weave those influences through these songs?

We wanted to pull from those old fiddle tunes that I heard Sis and others playing when I was a kid during jam sessions. Like “Lost Indian,” which is what “Big Foot Stomp” was written around. The common thread of it all was always an old fiddle tune melody, so I wanted to reference those songs in any way I could.

You and Guy both collaborated a lot with Verlon Thompson through the years. With that in mind, what did it mean to have him aboard to co-write “Old Hillbilly Hand-Me-Down” with y’all?

Verlon is one of the greatest songwriters around and an even better person. I don’t do a lot of co-writing with him, but we’re the best of friends. I love making music with him because we play off of each other so well.

The only song on the album you weren’t involved in writing was “New Cut Road,” but even so it still ties back to Guy and your childhood?

Yes. Guy wrote the song originally about his grandaddy Coleman Bonner who played fiddle in Kentucky. On the play-version of this album there’s dialogue that ties it all together. But when I was a kid, I started playing fiddle at 15. I remember standing on a ladder holding up a piece of sheet rock to the ceiling in a house my dad and I were remodeling. We had a little Gilligan’s Island radio playing across the room and Bobby Bare’s version of the song featuring Ricky Skaggs came on. It really inspired me to be a fiddler even though I didn’t know Guy wrote it at the time. Six short years later I was in Nashville, so it just felt like it belonged in this Sis Draper suite of songs.

Another tune I wanted to ask you about was “Grandpa’s Rovin’ Ear,” which I understand you originally constructed as a poem?

Guy and I wrote all those lyrics in different places, but for the longest time didn’t have a melody to go with it, so I made one up before going in to record. Similarly, “The Checkered Shirt Band” started as a rap that we played without a melody, almost like a group chant. I put melody to that right before heading into the studio, as well and was inspired by the old-time tune “I Don’t Love Nobody.”

The guy’s names I mention on [“The Checkered Shirt Band”] – Rodney, Chuck, and Rodge – are all band members from my days with the Grand Prairie Boys in Arkansas. We’d dress up like Bill Monroe & the Blue Grass Boys. I recently went back there to receive a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Arkansas Country Music Awards and got those boys together to play for the first time in years. We played that song and a couple others from the album and it was such a treat. It meant a lot to not only do that, but shout them out by name in the song as well.

The end of Sis Draper includes “Hello Dyin’ Day,” the last song you and Guy ever recorded together, sandwiched between “The Death Of Sis Draper” parts 1 and 2. What did it mean to you to include that one here?

It represents the deathbed confessions of Sis Draper. It just felt like The Ghost Of Sis Draper to me, due to the mood of it all. It’s her last words, but when we return to “The Death Of Sis Draper” in the medley it’s like Sis’ funeral, so it all just kind of belonged together in my mind. It’s about 10 minutes of music that all goes together, so hopefully it’ll be listened to that way and not dissected too much.

With that being said, what are your thoughts on song sequencing? It sounds like you designed this Sis Draper record as something intended to be listened to in order?

We’ve really gotten away from the arc of storylines on albums. It’s a two-minute world out there now, so if you can get just one single out that’s all a lot of people shoot for anymore. I miss those records like Red Headed Stranger that take you through all different kinds of moods and serve as an escape from the real world. I enjoy going on those little trips and hope listeners enjoy going on this Sis Draper adventure with us.

What has the process of bringing The Ghost Of Sis Draper taught you about yourself?

It’s taught me not to hesitate and to make the move to record stuff when it crosses your mind because if you don’t it may never happen. It initiated a whole new lease on life for me because I hadn’t put out a solo album since 2006. A lot in the world has changed since then just like it has in my own life, but I’ll never stop wanting to make music.


Photo Credit: Neilson Hubbard

Danny Burns’ Roots Music Journey Through the South

My new album’s theme, along with the theme of this Mixtape, is a roots-inspired journey through the South, with songs that evoke the feeling of traveling across its landscapes and into the heart of the Deep South. I hope the fans enjoy the journey of these songs and all the sounds and people it takes to make them come to life on Southern Sky – it takes a village.

That village comes to life across the nine-track journey of Southern Sky, where Irish roots fuse with Southern soul driven by Dobros, fiddles, and rich storytelling that soar with Appalachian tradition and Southern warmth. Inspired by the textures of the South, the spirit of the album is like Allen Toussaint’s Southern Nights, where Appalachian tales intertwine with the deep twang of the South.

Southern Sky features a multitude of musical titans – Vince Gill, Tim O’Brien, Ricky Skaggs, and Sam Bush to name a few – all contributing to the exceptional sound that I strive for. – Danny Burns

“Summer in Siam” – The Pogues

I always loved this tune, growing up listening to the Pogues and having met Shane many moons ago.

“My Old Friend the Blues” – Steve Earle

Steve is one of my favorites. I’ve had the honor to sing with him, open shows with him, and hang on his bus. His songs are epic; this is a great example of that.

“Southern Nights” – Citizen Cope

I first met Clarence Greenwood in New Orleans when I was driving him, Neal Casal, and Jon Graboff (the Cardinals) around while they were playing Tipitina’s. I fell in love with Clarence’s songs and his performances. Another great American artist and songwriter.

“Whenever You Come Around” – Vince Gill

I’m a huge fan of Vince and this track is about as good as it gets. I’ve always admired his songs, his voice, and everything he brings to the table.

“Locals Only” – ERNEST

I first heard this song down in Mexico during the pandemic while hanging out on the beach in Puerto Morelos. It became a bit of an anthem for those days by the water.

“Waiting On You” – Cecilia Castleman

A truly killer talent. Cecilia can play, she can sing, and I’m sure her skills as an engineer and producer are just as strong. This song is fantastic.

“Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground” – Willie Nelson

This has always been one of my go-to lonesome Willie tunes.

“That’s How Every Empire Falls” – John Prine

Epic song written by RB Morris out of Knoxville. I love both versions, but it was John’s take that first introduced me to it.

“The Lucky One” – Alison Krauss & Union Station

What can I say about Alison’s voice– absolutely world-class. Pair that with a world-class band, production, and song and it’s just unbeatable.

“Years” – Sierra Ferrell 

This is pure ear candy. So intriguing and instantly captivating. It feels amazing and sounds incredible. Perfect work!

“Colony” – Damien Dempsey

A heavy hitter in the Irish scene, this track is a prime example of his finest work.

“Settle For A Slowdown” – Dierks Bentley

I really loved this album; it feels like a perfect introduction to where country meets bluegrass with a modern twist.

“Señor” – Tim O’Brien

Love Tim and his take on this epic Bob Dylan song.

“Linger” – Áine Burns

Love Áine’s take on this Cranberries hit – can’t wait to hear more from her before the year’s end.


Photo Credit: Jim Wright

Brit Taylor’s New Momma Playlist

Sitting here in my baby’s room, feeling her kick in my belly while looking around at the dusty pink painted walls, baby owl wallpaper, refurbished 1960s furniture, a painting from her great grandmother on one wall, and her name – shared by two other great grandmothers – on the other wall, I’ve never been more certain that I’m exactly where I am meant to be in my life at this moment. Beulah Anne Chaffins. We love her so much already.

Like so many women in the music industry, I put off having a family thinking when my career takes off, then I’ll have my family. But “takes off” is so subjective, especially when you’re constantly moving the finish line for yourself. Earlier this year, I realized that if I kept waiting, I could literally wait myself forever out of the opportunity to have a family. I’m about to play Bourbon & Beyond, the biggest festival I’ve ever played, and I will be almost 8 months pregnant. It’s funny that this is actually the most outlaw thing I’ve ever done.

I didn’t grow up in a musical family. “Playing music” to my parents meant turning on the radio. I’m really excited to bring my daughter into a world of music. My husband, Adam Chaffins, and I do everything together. We garden, take care of our animals, travel, tour, write songs, and make records together. Beulah Anne already lights up when she hears us sing and play. I can feel her ball up in my belly, close to my guitar, and kick and turn as her daddy sings.

I put together a playlist of songs that I believe will be great to play for Beulah Anne when she finally gets here! It’s full of uplifting songs that don’t make us want to beat our heads against the wall. I know, I know, that will come eventually when she’s able to choose, but maybe if we start by instilling good taste early, it won’t be so bad? Wishful thinking? Maybe! – Brit Taylor

“Oo-De-Lally” – Roger Miller

Should be on any children’s playlist.

“Little Green Apples” – Bobbie Gentry & Glen Campbell

This wasn’t meant to be a kid’s song, but it is such a great love song and the melody is so simple and easy to remember. Adam and I love singing this one together.

“The Big Rock Candy Mountain” – Harry McClintock

The O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack is one of my favorite albums. There’s something about the old timey sound of this one that makes me feel like we’ve travelled back in time when things were just more simple.

“Didn’t Leave Nobody but the Baby” – Gillian Welch, Alison Krauss, and Emmylou Harris

This is from the same soundtrack. I can see myself singing this one to baby Beulah, trying to get her to sleep. Maybe I’ll leave out a line or two!

“You’ve Got a Friend in Me” – Randy Newman

An amazing way to let your kid know they’re not alone. I love this one by Randy Newman from Toy Story.

“Here Comes The Sun” – the Beatles

Could put anyone in a good mood.

“You Are My Sunshine” – Norman Blake

There’s so many great versions of this song, but I love this one by Norman Blake on the O Brother soundtrack. The Dobro gets me.

“(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear” – Elvis

This is a requirement for any children’s playlist I make. My daddy would play this one for me – along with every other Elvis song ever recorded.

“Build Me Up Buttercup” – The Foundations

Another one my Dad would play and sing to me. I remember loving this one and naming one of our dogs Buttercup!

“I Love” – Tom T. Hall

Tom T Hall was a poet and also from my hometown of Hindman, Kentucky. I love this one from his children’s record.

“Love is Like A Butterfly” – Dolly Parton

This has such a whimsical vibe! I love having this one in the mix. It transports you to a fairytale land.

“What A Wonderful World” – Louis Armstrong

I want Beulah Anne to always be able to see the beautiful things in the world. I don’t want her to be afraid of it. Perspective is key and songs like this can do just that.

“God Only Knows” – The Beach Boys

Adam and I sang this song on a Valentine’s Day livestream when he surprised me by proposing! My answer was a big fat “yes,” obviously. I can see us singing and dancing to this one with Beulah in our arms!

“(They Long to Be) Close To You” – The Carpenters

I always loved the Carpenters when I was little. My mom would play them for me. Especially at Christmas. Karen Carpenter’s voice is like a warm hug. There’s just something dreamy about this song, and I love the lyrics.

“Top Of The World” – The Carpenters

I want Beulah Anne to have a positive outlook on life. I want to instill positive self-talk, so when she hears her inner voice it’s encouraging instead of scary or mean. I hope starting her off on music like this will help her always feel more like she’s on top of the world instead of down in the gutter, even in the hard times of life.

“Ol’ Blue” – Willie Nelson

A must. Beulah’s first dog will be our dog, Blue, so this one was definitely a sure bet.


All photos by Natia Cinco.

Ketch Secor
Contains Multitudes, Too

After a quarter century fronting the frenetic bluegrass and jug band outfit Old Crow Medicine Show, Ketch Secor is finally breaking out on his own with his solo debut Story The Crow Told Me. The retrospective record looks back on the past few decades, from his own journey to stardom spurred by a chance encounter with Doc Watson to the certified platinum hit “Wagon Wheel,” through the lens of a soundtrack that’s equal parts bluegrass and contemporary country.

“Because the band [recently] celebrated 25 years, I was already in the mindset of a retrospective look,” Secor tells BGS. “I was thinking about everything that’s happened and transpired over that time and started writing about it. In fact, at first I really thought it was going to be a spoken word record before the music eventually took over.”

Talking over the phone, Secor spoke about the timing for his debut project, its connections to both Old Crow and contemporaries like Dierks Bentley, becoming the new host of Tennessee Crossroads on Nashville PBS, and more.

You mentioned this album was initially envisioned as a spoken word compilation. What led to its transformation into a fully realized album?

Ketch Secor: I was working with Jody Stevens. We had written a couple songs that were largely based around spoken word and others we were looking to add background sounds on. Those sounds started getting more and more like what I already do, which is writing songs with choruses and verses and hooks. It just evolved out of the beat poetry version of the album, which was probably a little less listenable but closer to what I was striving for. The musicality of it is a bit of a compromise to be like “Well, I’m going to make this an actual record people might want to listen to” because the spoken word records I enjoy are not highly listened to.

I recently was trying to find them again since my record collection got lost in the 2010 floods we had in Nashville. I went on Spotify, which I’d never used before, to find all these songs in my head like Amiri Baraka’s “It’s Nation Time” or Moondog – a 1950’s renegade beat poet from New York – in trying to get an understanding of how the spoken word music I heard as a kid was being utilized today. It quickly became clear that nobody listens to that stuff anymore. [Laughs] So it seemed like making it musical would make it more fun for people.

It seems a bit ironic that you had to look up all these songs – many of which would be considered part of the Great American Songbook – on a digital streaming platform like Spotify. Talk about two very different worlds colliding!

I talk a little bit about that phenomenon on the song “Junkin’.” A lot of the experience of making music with Old Crow, especially in the beginning when we were still developing a canon, was about music’s physical form. When the band first started the internet was still new and we were still selling cassettes. The last time I made a solo record was on tape, the band didn’t have a website and none of us even used email when all of this started. It meant that searching for the physical was really important.

There’s another song on the album called “Thanks Again” that highlights the personal relationships that you develop out on the road – these chance encounters that are very much real and put the wind in your sails. There’s something to be said about having to come of age in a time when information was so tactile and often involved a human touch.

With the emergence of the internet and things like streaming and social media it really is an entirely different world for artists to navigate nowadays.

I realized that I had a kind of time capsule in my mind I had yet to crack open in the days before going in to make this record, which was done quickly and often with me writing the songs as we were recording them. Opening it up was really cathartic and essential for me to process and move past because the experience of coming to Nashville when we did and the kind of band we were in was, at times, slightly traumatic. It was a very intense quest similar to a military deployment, being a minor league ball player fighting your way through the ranks or even being a teenage whaler in Moby Dick. You end up leaving everything else behind in search of this one pursuit.

It’s not unique to come to Nashville to make it big, but what made our experience unique was that we were trying to do it with these traditional sounds in an era in which technological changes were happening as we were doing it. It was almost like we were going against the literal tide with our choices and artistic motivation.

You just mentioned writing these songs as you were recording them. Is that something you’d done before?

That was a very new way of going about things. I understand that record-making has changed a lot since we first started – our most popular Old Crow records that gave us a career were the early ones we made with Dave Rawlings on analog tape that we cut with a razor blade. Making a record the way Gillian [Welch] and Dave do is very studious, labor and time-intensive. But now the technology exists to do it super fast.

This record almost felt like a throwback to the seminal recordings of the 1920s and ‘30s that are the headwaters of our sound. Those records were made in three minutes oftentimes without knowing what the arrangements would be. Three minutes wasn’t the time frame of hillbilly music until the record company said it was – they just sat there, watched the light turn on and played. Writing a song and building a track like that actually felt really on par with what it would have been like going to Camden, New Jersey, in 1928 on a train when you’d never left your county before that. The challenge is keeping one foot in the past and one in the present. When you play fiddles and banjos and blow harmonica for a living the instrument kind of does it for you.

You name dropped Jody Stevens a few minutes ago. How’d y’all come together and what was it like working with him?

We met through my publishing company. I was going to do a co-write with him and knew he’d written a lot of songs for contemporary country artists, so I brought my bag of tricks that I bring out when I try to pretend I’m going to write the next big, top 10 country smash, except for this one time with Darius [Rucker]. I love country music even though I feel that in the past 25 years I have a whole lot less in common with it than I did when I was a kid, in terms of what it sounds like today in its mainstream output versus when I was singing along to Jo Dee Messina when I was 19. It was interesting to circle the wagons with Jody because he brought such a unique perspective in record making that comes from contemporary country music even though his roots are in hip-hop.

The other thing that brought us together was that Jody had seen Old Crow a lot, especially in our early days from 2000-2005, which is the sweet spot I try to explore on this record. He’d been there at the Station Inn and the festival Lightning 100 used to do downtown and some of these other places that have since been replaced by high rises. The fact that he had been a first-account witness to the band was really helpful to bounce ideas off of. His sister was also a big Old Crow fan and even though I’ve never met her I thought about her as my target demographic – someone who saw us back in 2001 and wanted to know what that time capsule looked like.

The fact that Jody had done all this work with people that rapped – only to find that 25 years later the tapes and demos he’d made with Jelly Roll were now part of a pop culture consciousness that hadn’t been there when he first started working on them – gave him a similar orientation to country music that I have about Americana. When I got started there was nothing called Americana and nobody lived outside of contemporary country music unless you were alt-country. Coming into this period of time in Nashville where it wasn’t yet determined that anyone with a banjo could make it that wasn’t bluegrass is another place where Jody and I shared commonality. The rap game has since become a massive component to contemporary country music similar to how Americana has become the tastemaker for anything roots-related.

In terms of the sound on this record, the way you move between more Old Crow-esque bluegrass and those pop country flavors reminds me a lot of Dierks Bentley, another person who excels at showcasing the best of both sides of roots music.

I came up with Dierks and remember witnessing his arrival. Before [“What Was I Thinkin’”] came out there was an issue of CMA Up Close that had a story about us on the page opposite one about Dierks and I thought to myself, “Well, if a guy named Dierks Bentley can make it, then probably a guy named Ketch Secor can, too.” Surely Nashville has the appetite for two oddly-named boys. [Laughs] Then I went on and took a moniker that wasn’t my name. Because of that I feel very much like a brand-new artist now and have developed a strong sense of empathy for the young guns who are out there trying to put their stuff out for the first time, because it’s so much harder now than when I was a kid.

What are some of those major hurdles you’ve noticed for new artists today compared to what you first encountered with Old Crow?

Now the way you stand out in a crowd is through visual means that often require the least amount of artistic acumen and the most amount of social media acumen. So far, I’m not sure it’s helping the cream rise to the top, though. The skill set should be how good can you pick a banjo, not how good can you pick the keypad on your iPhone, even though you have to do both to be successful today. When I was a kid it was about making these connections with people, knocking on doors so many times that every time something good came to me [it did] on account of me showing up and being in the right place at the right time.

Seeking a viral moment has an undue effect of potentially limiting the number of new entrants into the arena. For one generation, what was once divinized is now digitized. I’m sure that if there’s a God above that He or She can use the binary code to reach people and connect their children. I can pick up The New York Times and feel like there’s a closeness with the loss in Texas right now, which is only amplified by me having swam in the Guadalupe before and having a personal connection to the area. If you’ve plunged in the waters yourself then you’ll share something so much more vital with those who are experiencing the loss.

It’s really a metaphor for how we all have a shot at playing the Grand Ole Opry or going from the Station Inn to the Ryman like I did. There’s a turnstile in front of that and I want to see it spinning wide so that artists of all stripes can find their way up to that stage where they belong. As a steward of those stages, I want to see the people show up who have found music as the great connector that, regardless of the speed of the computer in your pocket, the speed of music breaks all other forms of sonic barriers.

In terms of personnel, what motivated you to bring in past and present Old Crow members like Willie Watson, Critter Fuqua, and Morgan Jahnig to record these songs with?

I really wanted to have all the past members of Old Crow on the record, because it felt like a bit of an offering to the gods to say “thanks.” So I really wanted a little bit of all their spirits on it. Not only that, but I read through a lot of old journals and called up some people I’d met hitchhiking, but hadn’t talked to in 25 years. I went and visited the guy who coined the term “Wagon Wheel,” because that song was always called “Rock Me Mama” until I met James Sizemore – a wonderful rascal and drug-dealing Vietnam vet.

I went to see him on his deathbed and recorded phone conversations late at night with old friends. While none of that stuff is necessarily on the record in its physical form, it all went into the process of trying to bake something that really felt like I was living in the past and bringing it to the present through these songs. I think a lot about cairn stones that the Inuit people up north call inuksuit, which are like sign posts that tell you where to turn, but they’re also spiritual. So imagine a road sign that could say “300 miles to Memphis,” but also told you the ancestral route of the settlers who first brought buffalo down 7,000 years ago, sort of like the duality of a time signature.

That duality of time reminds me of one of the album’s songs, “What Nashville Was,” which highlights how much Nashville has changed over the decades while also highlighting how no matter how many venues are replaced with condos, music will always be the city’s heartbeat.

A lot about the way Bob [Dylan’s] record Nashville Skyline had a way of pointing out Nashville for the first time to anyone who didn’t live in the South or listen to country music. He was really pointing to Nashville from a unique perspective and certainly Bob Dylan’s Nashville was the kind of Nashville that I was looking for when I first started playing on the street corner there in 1996.

Similarly, I was also looking for Dolly Parton’s Nashville. I wanted the Nashville that Dolly got when she stepped out of the pickup truck and married the first guy that honked his horn at her, the kind of Nashville where Willie Nelson was laying down in the street in front of Tootsie’s thinking he’s gonna kill himself because nobody wants his songs.

I used “Girl From The North Country” as the template for a love letter to a changing place and a cityscape that has gone on to do so much stuff that it itself is largely oblivious to the price it pays for its constant reinvention. And the price is that who we’re ushering in … is probably because you were on a reality TV show more consistently than because you had a song that people couldn’t stop singing at summer camps. Not that those things are good or bad, they just change. But we’re at a point now where the legend and lore of Nashville has grown so much that we’re at risk of the bubble bursting and it being something like Seattle after grunge or Austin after it wasn’t weird anymore – which is a glass, monolithic, industry executive business center. Oftentimes those forces stand in opposition to the ability of songwriters, hucksters, showmen, and the survival spirit that goes into creating the next Bob Dylan of a generation. I’m hoping that we, the architects of Nashville, can endeavor to build a place that still allows a hearty hero or heroine to come through the gates just like Loretta Lynn or Jack White did.

You were recently named the new host of Tennessee Crossroads on Nashville Public Television. How’d that opportunity come about and what’s it mean to you?

When PBS called me about this unique role that had come available with the sudden and sad loss of Joe [Elmore] – who ran the show for 30 or so years – it only made sense to find someone else to step in who’s also run a business for around 30 years that’s similar to Tennessee Crossroads. Old Crow Medicine Show has been criss-crossing the American south getting inspired by quilters, gee-haw whimmy diddles, carvers, and folks that plant by the lunar signs – those are the kind of folk heroes that go into our music. They’re also the same kind of stories that this show loves to tell.

I love public broadcasting and care a lot about access to it in this country. I made my television debut on our local PBS affiliate up in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia when I was in fifth grade. I fell in love with my own backyard because Ken Burns showed me what was so rich about it and so frightening and tragic, which was the bones of the Union and Confederate armies right here, just past the fence. Ken Burns really illuminated that for me and ever since I’ve been the biggest fan of public broadcasting.

What has the process of bringing this record to life taught you about yourself?

I was born about 35 miles outside the birthplace of Walt Whitman and always wondered why I like the guy so much. Then I recently rode my bicycle there and thought, “God, this guy’s place is really popular!” There were people sleeping on a stoop and waiting for a free sandwich in the parking lot. And it turns out where Walt Whitman used to live is like the center of the drug-addled corpse that is parts of Camden, New Jersey. It looks a bit like the Dickerson Road corridor, at least as it was in about 1999.

I feel like Walt really said it best when he said he contains multitudes on “Song Of Myself, 51.” I feel as a picker of banjos and fiddles and guitars and dulcimers and auto harps; and a blower of jugs and juice harps and harmonicas; and a singer of ballads and lamentations pretty songs; and [an attender of] corn shuckins, frolics, and cotillions, that I am like you, a container of multitudes.


Photo Credit: Jody Stevens

Basic Folk: Tami Neilson

In recent years, Tami Neilson has been learning to carry both great joy and great sorrow simultaneously. The New Zealand-based, Canada-born powerhouse’s new album, Neon Cowgirl, is named after the towering electric figure on a sign that’s overlooked Broadway in Nashville watching over Tami’s career since she was 16 years old. The songs were born from a five-month family road trip combined with a major musical tour that would allow Tami the once-in-a-lifetime chance to really give it her all with her career. It was the chance for her children to experience what her life was like at their age, when she toured the country with her family’s band, led by her eccentric and wildly lovable dreamer-father, Ron Neilson. Before she got the chance to hit the road for that trip, Tami landed in the ICU with sepsis and nearly lost her life. She blessedly recovered, but found that all her priorities centered around trip/tour had changed.

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In our Basic Folk conversation, we talk about the songs on Neon Cowgirl, her dear friendship and collaborations with Willie Nelson, and Tami’s exciting performances at the Grand Ole Opry. One of the songs on Neon Cowgirl, “Keep On,” was inspired by a cosmic conversation she had with Wynonna Judd. Judd, to her surprise, quoted the same exact phrase – “Keep on, keep on, keep on” – that Tami’s late father had written in one of her most cherished letters. We also talk a lot about her brother, Jay Neilson. For all of her career and life, Jay has been by her side as her guitarist, co-writer, and musical partner. Last July, Jay suffered a rare and debilitating brain injury that he is still recovering from. Tami and Jay have not been able to perform together since that injury. She shares what it’s been like to be without Jay and how it’s been for him to be so public about his condition.

Tami Neilson and I first connected during the pandemic. She was a guest on the podcast after she released her 2020 album, Chickaboom! and again after she released her fifth album, Kingmaker, in 2022. Since those chats, I have loved following her career, listening to her new music, and experiencing her highs and lows with her. She’s one of my favorite guests and I’m thrilled to welcome Tami back to talk about her wonderful new record.


Photo Credit: Alexa King Stone

Sawtooth
Country Soul

To say Kashus Culpepper’s life has changed over the last five years is an understatement. A former state champion wrestler, firefighter, and EMT, the Alabama native developed a raspy, smoke-and-voodoo vocal while stationed in Spain with the U.S. Navy in 2020, forced to pass the pandemic in his bunk. Since then, he’s knocked over one milestone after another.

With a distinctive mix of country, blues, Southern rock, and soul, the 27-year-old cites Robert Johnson, Bill Withers, and Hank Williams as inspirations and is now bringing his roots-renegade instincts to mainstream fans. Despite only releasing his first official track in June of 2024, the music industry short-timer has earned big-time appreciation.

That includes the respect of heroes like Elton John and John Mayer, a Grand Ole Opry debut, tour dates around the country, and inclusion on 2025 “artist-to-watch” lists at GRAMMY.com, Apple, Billboard, Pandora, and more. Culpepper just finished a run of dates with Leon Bridges and he’ll hit the road with Whiskey Myers in June before joining tours by Sierra Ferrell, Darius Rucker, and others later on in the summer. It would all be overwhelming, if he had time to think about it.

“I’ve just been taking it day by day,” Culpepper tells Good Country with a hearty laugh, waiting to perform at a community festival in Arkansas last month. “I think that’s the best course of action. Don’t think too far in the future and just take each show, each writing session, each recording session one at a time. Just pray everything works out and keep going. … Because when things started happening, I was like, ‘Oh, snap.’”

We wanted to get to know Culpepper before anything else “happens,” and figure out what’s fueling the hype. As it turns out, this all-natural talent is just going with the flow.

I read that you didn’t even start playing guitar until you were in Spain for the Navy, right? What made you want to do that?

Kashus Culpepper: Yeah, in Spain we got shut down and I didn’t have nothing else to do, man. I mean, literally I was bored out my mind. It’s a different type of boredom, because during COVID you couldn’t do nothing. It’s not like you can just go outside or go to a bar or hang with your friends. We couldn’t do nothing. So this was a weird point in my life and my buddy had a guitar in the barracks. I was like, “Well, this is a perfect time. I literally have nothing to do.” I just went on YouTube and looked up covers I wanted to learn. Music has always been something I go back to whenever life is hard. So I resorted back to music and that ended up leading me to learn guitar, eventually learn to write songs.

Thank God for YouTube, huh?

Shout out Marty Schwartz!

You seem to have a lot of diverse tastes, but that bluesy, soulful country thing – why did that speak to you?

I think maybe that’s just my music taste. My first taste of music was gospel, and I’m from Southern Alabama, so gospel there, it’s really rootsy already. It already sounds like a folk song. And the way they sing it sounds so bluesy, like old Son House type of vibes. From there I got into blues music outside of church. I got into country music and R&B and folk music a little. I’m all over the place when I listen to music. I can go from Allman Brothers to a Conway Twitty song really quick.

But I know you like John Mayer and all that stuff, too, right?

Yeah, yeah. I mean, I love so many of those rock artists, ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, Skynyrd. People ask me all the time my influence and I’m just like, “Bro, it’s so hard to name everybody.” John Mayer was a huge thing for me. Recently I went back to Norah Jones, I’m like, “Man, I used to love this record.” But with my music, at the end of the day, it’s just centered on my lyrics. I just want it to feel as rootsy as possible, because all the music I come from – blues, folk, R&B, soul, gospel – it’s all roots music at the end of the day.

Your voice is so good at expressing these really raw emotional states, I think. Is that how you are naturally? Or does that only come out in your music?

Most of the time? Honestly man, it’s just with the music. It’s hard to open up to the people. I think for me music has been great, just to express how I actually feel through my singing and my lyrics. I don’t usually just tell people.

So you’re from Alabama. After the Navy, did you go home and keep playing?

I got out the Navy in 2022 and by that point I already had gigs booked on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. I was booked at all these casinos, all these bars. I was booked out for a year in advance. I got out and went straight to full-time doing cover band shows pretty much for another year, until I literally couldn’t take any more of it. Then that’s when I decided I really want to write songs. Literally, I decided “I’m going to move back home to save as much money as I can and move to Nashville.” I was home for maybe a week or two and posting a lot on TikTok and I remember I was in my mom’s living room. I posted a TikTok, I went out because I had an interview for a job, I got back home, and it had reached 100,000 views. From there it was just, “Oh, snap. It’s going on.”

@kashculpeppermusic Replying to @Casey Wayne One week till “Man of His Word” drops! Appreciating all the support on this one❤️ Pre-save link in bio🔥 #country #singersongwriter #original #kashusculpepper #newmusic #livemusic #countrymusic #countrymusiclover #tour #soul #newcountry ♬ original sound – Kashus Culpepper

That’s awesome. Congratulations on how that all turned out. I think one reason for it might be that your music seems so unconventional, almost untamed. Maybe because you did it on your own? Do you feel like fans are hungry for that?

I think so. We talked about John Mayer. John Mayer is kind of like that. He’s all over the place. Sometimes he’ll do a blues song and then straight up pop, and then an R&B song with Leon Bridges. I think people just love that from artists. Artists just being artists. Just do whatever the song feels like. That’s how I feel with songs.

“A Man of His Word” is super soulful, with lots of that gospel influence and a big raspy vocal. Tell me about being the man a girl deserves. Where’s that theme coming from?

I wrote that song with Natalie Hemby and at the time we was just talking about life. The song is from a perspective of a guy looking into a girl and she’s going through hardships, because she don’t have a man of his word. She’s drinking a lot, doing a whole bunch of stuff. The song has a lot of me in it. I grew up with a single mother and you don’t know how those things can affect you without having somebody in your life you can trust. You get the feeling you can’t really trust nobody, because that’s not part of your life, and that leads to mental health problems or substance abuse. You don’t even notice it at the time, until you look back and you’re like, “Dang, that’s why I feel that way.”

After that comes “Broken Wing Bird” with Sierra Ferrell and it’s on the opposite end of the spectrum. Very threadbare and folky, right?

Oh man. So I’m a huge fan of Willie Nelson. One of my favorite songs is “Funny How Time Slips Away” – I just love so much the crooner era that he was doing – and I wanted a song that felt like that.

I wrote the song about somebody that’s not really good for you and you just keep taking ‘em back regardless, because you love them and no matter what they do, you’re always going to. So she’s like my broken-winged bird – no matter what she does, she’s flying back and I’m always going to help her out and then she’ll probably be on her way again.

It’s been good getting to know you a little. Big picture, what do you hope people take away from your music?

I think overall, I hope they can see I’m just an artist trying to express the way I see things, and I hope in some way they can find music that can fit every part of their life. Whether they’re trying to have a good time out partying, or if they want to soak into the sadness of a lover they lost, I just hope my music can fit some aspect of their life. And I hope they can enjoy it.


Photo Credit: Cole Calfee

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Gary P. Nunn on Only Vans with Bri Bagwell

Today, I interview a legend! Gary P. Nunn joins the pod to talk about the Texas Country Music Cruise, writing a book, friendship with Willie Nelson, drummers and Texas Music Heritage.

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First thing: obviously the audio here is not ideal, and I really apologize. I was at a songwriting retreat in the sticks, so from my end, there was a lag and also some audio that cuts in and out. But when you get the chance to interview Gary P. Nunn, you take it! So even though I was not purposefully interrupting Gary P — I would never — it does happen due to the delay in audio. This legend is so unbelievably kind, open, fun, and genuine. We talk about his book At Home With The Armadillo, which I own and adore, and his new record To Texas With Love which is also fantastic. We talk about Willie and Jerry Jeff Walker, writing the epic song “London Homesick Blues,” all of the success around his song, “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” (which I had to sing in front of him at Steamboat, terrifying), and how he has stayed super independent through all of the changes in the music industry.

Gary P. and I share a love of red wine, and I spill the beans that I will be joining the Texas Country Music Cruise in Fall of 2026! You can see me there next year and Gary P. this year! Head to TexasCountryMusicCruise.com to book that right away!

Thanks to Gary P. Nunn for hanging in there with me through the audio mishaps, and go to GaryPNunn.com for all of his merch, tour, videos, you name it! And Gary P! Release that photobook!


Photo Credit: Valerie Fremin Photography

BGS 5+5: Adam Chaffins

Artist: Adam Chaffins
Hometown: Louisa, Kentucky
Latest Album: Trailer Trash EP (released May 16, 2025)
Personal Nicknames: “Chaffins”

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I’ve considered myself a multi-genre artist from the beginning. While I feel confident identifying as a country artist, that label doesn’t capture the full range of my influences. Growing up, I listened to country alongside Top 40 hits and classic rock – those styles shaped my ear just as much. In high school, I discovered bluegrass and jazz, and during college I really dove deep into those genres and honed my craft within them.

All of those influences have filtered into my writing today and I think that’s especially clear on this new EP. Music, like culture, is becoming increasingly interconnected and multi-dimensional. It’s exciting to see more country artists exploring new spaces and I want to make music that is part of that evolution.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Speaking of multi-genre artists, Willie Nelson is a great place to start. He’s part of the foundation of country songwriting – hell, songwriting in general. His music draws from so many different influences and we wouldn’t have the classic Willie Nelson records without that breadth.

It’s tough to single out just one artist as my biggest influence, but more often than not, when I’m writing a line or delivering a phrase, I catch myself asking, “What would Willie do?” His sound has never felt forced or put on – it’s authentic because he’s lived every word of it. Beyond the music, his lessons in patience and positivity have been a huge influence on me and have played a big part in keeping me grounded and continuing to make music.

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

I love the outdoors – it’s essential for my creativity. Whether I’m kayaking on the lake, hiking with my dog, or cycling down country backroads, being outside helps me reset. When I’m feeling bogged down by the ‘business’ side of music, stuck on a lyric, or just need a break from a piece I’m learning, nature gives me the space to clear my mind. It’s like a creative reset button – being in the elements helps me return with energy and perspective.

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

Some of my earliest memories are of wanting to be a musician – or at least be around musicians. I had toy guitars and drum sets and would just bang away, trying to get the sounds in my head out long before I had any idea what I was doing.

One moment that really stands out happened before I could even read or write. A local DJ I was obsessed with was doing a promo at a car lot and my mom took me to meet him. I thought he was the gatekeeper to all of music. I remember scribbling on sticky notes – what I explained were the instruments and band members I wanted for my future group. He smiled, folded the notes, and tucked them into his shirt pocket with a wink, just before going back on the air.

Looking back, that moment felt like an early manifestation. Even then, I knew music was where I wanted to be – I just didn’t have the words for it yet.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I love to cook. When the world shut down during COVID and there were no shows to play, I got a big offset smoker trailer and started smoking whole chickens outside a locally owned grocery store. Honestly, I probably earned fans faster with barbecue than I ever have with music…

That said – it’s tough work. Tending fires inside a steel pit during a Tennessee summer isn’t for the faint of heart. But then again, neither is rolling around the country in a van playing songs for strangers. I guess one just happened to be the dream I had first. I still cook and smoke meat whenever I can and, if I weren’t making music, I could absolutely see myself doing that full-time.


Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

GC 5+5: Southern Avenue

Artist: Southern Avenue
Hometown: Memphis, Tennessee
Latest Album: Family
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): We don’t remember any rejected band names, but being from Memphis we definitely call everybody “mane.”

Answers have been provided by Tierinii Jackson, Southern Avenue lead vocalist and songwriter.

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

It wasn’t one moment, it was the absence of one. I never imagined not being a singer and a songwriter. I grew up singing in church with my sisters and family and even when I ran away from all of that, the music stayed with me. Beale Street gave me my second education. That’s where I chose to be a full-time musician, even if the world didn’t choose it for me.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

I love musical theater. It’s drama, it’s storytelling, it’s emotion on 10. I used to want to be on Broadway. Sometimes I still do. The song “Flying” on our new album is just about that. My mom actually turned the plane around mid-air so I wouldn’t fly to New York to make my dream come true. I do believe that it all connects and I have plenty of time to still do something special in that world.

What’s one question you wish interviewers would stop asking you?

People always ask how we met and how the band started. It’s everywhere online already. We just hope to get asked about new things now, go a little deeper. But it’s all good, no hard feelings at all. We love it when we have an interview where the person in front of us already has an understanding of who is in front of them.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

When we toured with Willie Nelson, Bob Dylan, and John Mellencamp, it was already unbelievable. But then we found ourselves on stage at FarmAid, after two weeks on the road with them for the Outlaw Tour. I remember standing there thinking, “Am I dreaming?” It was one of those moments where everything just hits you, how far we’ve come, and how real it all is.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

We like to describe our music real simple. It’s Memphis music. That’s what raised us. We’re a mix of where we come from, how we grew up, and everything we dreamed of becoming. It all comes together in the sound.


Photo Credit: Rory Doyle

BGS 5+5: Sterling Drake

Artist: Sterling Drake
Hometown: Philipsburg, Montana
Latest Album: The Shape I’m In (out May 2, 2025 via Calusa Music/Missing Piece Records)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): “Sterl Haggard”

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Roots country and folk music have a way of bringing people together. These songs carry the stories and wisdom of those who came before us, reminding us of what we share across generations. Music can open hearts, challenge perspectives, and create space for vulnerability. I’m especially grateful for the chance to use my platform to advocate for the land, the people who depend on it, and the importance of mental health both in rural communities and beyond. Whether playing for a small gathering or a big crowd, I see music as a way to keep these stories alive and inspire connection.

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

I live in a small town in Granite County, Montana, where the land is mostly ranches and public wilderness and things are luckily untouched by urban sprawl. The Rockies and the high desert ranges are the place I like to go to in my mind. Although music is my main focus at this time in my life, I spend a lot of time outdoors. Horseback, hiking, camping, skiing, and helping out the neighbor in the branding pen. Being outside is part of my daily life, and it helps keep me grounded.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I consider my music “roots” in the broadest sense. It draws from the deep well of American musical traditions: country, folk, Western, bluegrass, Western swing, and even Irish traditional. At times I may lean more on traditional country and honky-tonk and other times I may feel inspired by something else, and I enjoy the creative flexibility. At its core, it’s about storytelling, connection, and carrying forward the sounds and ideas that have shaped generations before me.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Willie Nelson has influenced me the most. He pulls from so many corners of American music – jazz, blues, folk, Western swing – but no matter what he’s playing, it always feels country, always feels Western, and always feels like Willie. He never let genres box him in, and that’s something I really admire. His approach to songwriting, storytelling, and even the way he plays guitar has shaped how I think about music.

A close runner-up would be Roger Miller. He had this effortless looseness and wit in his writing that made even the simplest songs feel unique. He never took himself too seriously, but was still a master of his craft. That balance between depth and playfulness is something I aspire to carry into my own music.

What’s one question you wish interviewers would stop asking you?

Interviewers will sometimes ask artists the question, “When did you know you were talented, or when you were a musician?” It makes it sound like creating music is something only a few people are born to do, when in reality, it takes years of work, dedication, and a willingness to keep learning. More importantly, it makes artistic expression seem out of reach for most people, when creativity exists in everything we do. Music isn’t about being chosen, it’s about choosing to put in the time and effort to make something meaningful.


Photo Credit: Taylor Hoover