Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins Discuss the Making and Meaning of ‘All My Friends’

Bearing witness to friends and collaborators Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins in conversation is reminiscent of listening to their frequent musical partnerships, like their trio I’m With Her (with Sarah Jarosz). In moments, they blend perfectly, finishing each other’s sentences. They dance around each other, giving space for thoughtful responses and further questions.

In an artful, deeply reverent, and candid conversation, they delved into the intricacies of creating O’Donovan’s new release, All My Friends. The project originated from a commission by the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra in 2019 and blossomed into what O’Donovan refers to as a “song burst,” inspired by the life and work of American Suffragette, Carrie Chapman Catt, and the centennial of the 19th Amendment.

The project propelled O’Donovan into unfamiliar territory as a songwriter and what emerged is a beautiful elegy to the women of the past who fought for the right to vote. It’s an homage to women of today – and future generations.

<thrive_headline click tho-post-63113 tho-test-232>Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins Discuss the Making and Meaning of ‘All My Friends’</thrive_headline>

“What ​is ​it that we’re ​fighting ​for? You ​have ​to ​put ​a ​name ​on ​it, ​try ​to ​figure ​it ​out. ​Otherwise ​you're ​just stumbling ​blind.”

— Erin McNally

BGS spoke via Zoom with Artist of the Month O’Donovan from her home in Orlando and with Watkins joining from her home in Los Angeles.

Aoife O’Donovan: Hey! How are you?

Sara Watkins: I’m good. How are you doing?

AO: I’m so good. I love that I’m having an official conversation with one of my best friends. It’s sort of weird.

SW: When they called me to ask if I would be interested in interviewing you, it was an hour after I had just sent you that raving text about how much I adore the album and the music. I’m so blown away by it.

AO: Oh, my gosh! You’re so sweet! I love you!

SW: I’m not sweet, and you know that.

AO: You are. You’re a nice person. You just sometimes don’t hug strangers. That’s like your only quirk.

SW: I’ve been listening to the record since you sent it to me. But this week, I’ve been getting to really dive in and have the fun of trying to get inside your head a little bit. From that opening line, from the opening gesture at the beginning of the album, it’s just this gorgeous way of encompassing the whole record so beautifully. But it’s also so open. It’s not a thesis statement, but it powerfully contains the whole album. And I just wonder, where did that particular thing come from? And when did you know that that was going to be the way to start?

AO: It’s funny, that opening phrase, just the idea of “All my friends, all my friends,” that idea came to me many years ago, like maybe in 2018. I just had the melody and the chords and I kind of sat with it. It never was anything except for that. When I started working on the idea of this record, when Orlando (Philharmonic Orchestra) asked me to write 5 songs to commemorate the centennial of the 19th Amendment, I didn’t even go back to that tiny phrase immediately. I started elsewhere.

I started to write this other music, and then I remember sitting at the piano, actually at Full Sail, in the studio that I worked at here and I remember those words, “All my friends,” that was all that it was. I started thinking about what that meant, as even just a very simple, very kind of trite, almost overused lyric. There are tons of songs called “All My Friends.” There are movies called All My Friends. There’s a book that I just read called All My Friends Are Going to Be Strangers. It’s not a very original 3-word statement. But there was something about those words together with those chords, that all of a sudden felt like they belonged in this project. This is about the women who were before and the women who are yet to be born. It felt like this big circle all of a sudden of humanity and womanhood.

SW: It’s powerful on its own and then also with the context of the movement. I don’t often think of movements like that with friends. We think about it for younger generations. Let’s change policies to help younger generations, or to help the American people, but to put the word “friends” on it just makes it so heartbreaking. I just get sisterhood through this whole record in the most powerful way.

In “Daughters,” I have these 2 different visions of what’s happening in that song. With the way the band and the orchestration wrap around your guitar playing – the band does such a great job. You’ve played with Griffin Goldsmith, and with Alan Hampton a ton. The trio entity is so complete and so complementary to the songs and then to add to it, the way that you have the orchestration coming into play and the choir in such supportive ways. I had two images. One was this vision of a battlefield. Like when we were in grade school, where we talked about Gettysburg, or these legendary Revolutionary War battle sites and you see that field where the people are, and then you see these flanks coming in from the sides. That’s how that song feels to me.

AO: That’s like exactly what I was imagining when I wrote it. I’m not joking; that exact image of just being on a battlefield. And then, like the other voices coming in, or like the other people coming in to sort of fill the ranks. That’s exactly what I was envisioning. That’s so funny.

SW: It’s incredible.

AO: I’m so glad that that came across.

SW: It does. And it’s a credit to the arrangement, where you have the choir come in and there’s this rumbling support, or this foundational support from the orchestration before. When that chorus comes in, it just feels like you’re surrounded by kinship or by the sisterhood of support. And then the next verse opens up, and you’re alone again, or like fairly alone and you have to carry this battle by yourself, for yourself. It’s an individual fight. But then, going back to that “all my friends” lyric, it just feels like all of those entities are your friends coming to support you in your time of need.

AO: Exactly. That’s it exactly it. I feel like for me, when I made this record, and even now getting ready to put it out, it’s so specific and it’s so deeply personal. And it’s so not a record of like, “Check out this jam!” It’s just not that kind of record at all. And it’s not meant to be. I’m so glad that you listened to it in this way. This is what my hope for this record is, that people will be able to have the time to sort of process what it is. And these images and that exact thing of going into a battlefield. But then, there are moments when everything is stripped back, and you are sort of alone. But you’re also singing for your friends and for your community and for your mothers and your grandmothers and their mothers and their grandmothers. But also for the daughters of the daughters of the daughters. It just feels like this circle keeps on going.

In that song, specifically having the girl’s chorus, and on the whole record it was such an important thing for me to have the voices of young women, and not necessarily harmony vocals by my peers. I just felt there was something about the innocence of this young voice. The experience of getting to do it live with the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, and in Massachusetts, and even getting to do it in Glasgow with the girls’ chorus, it’s really powerful. It’s hard not to cry, even as a performer. It’s something about seeing young girls up on a stage, ready to give something. It just feels deeply emotional.

SW: And they are giving to you and you are getting to experience that support literally. Being on stage can feel very alienating and very vulnerable. It is a little bit of a fight sometimes within yourself if nothing else.

I feel like this is just such a powerful statement: grappling with change and growth. And obviously, that’s something that needs to be continually grappled with. It’s not like, “Oh, the change happens, and now we’re done. Check it off the list.” It’s a continual engagement, and it’s hard.

With “America Come,” when you get to that point in the album, it feels like the industrial revolution to me.

AO: Yes. I love that.

SW: Especially because you’re singing the words, “manpower, womanpower.” I feel like the machine is running.

AO: Right. I feel like that song with the, “dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun,” it becomes very steady. It is like the machine is running. That’s one of the songs on the record that really is so much about Carrie Chapman Catt, the suffragist who I was inspired to write about and write from the perspective of. That song is really heavily lifted from an actual speech that she gave. Some of those phrases are verbatim from her speeches.

That idea of this question, “What is this democracy for which the world is battling?” I feel like that’s a question that we can still ask ourselves. What are we doing here? What does this mean? What is America? I feel like that’s just such a deep question, and to be asking that in 1919 or 1918, or whenever that speech was from, and then to still feel it in 2022 – when I was writing this, it felt so relevant I feel like it’s almost eerie. We can’t give up the fight. We can’t stop. You don’t just check something off the list. As you said, it just kind of keeps going.

SW: And in that way, the album encompasses all the humanity, the micro versions of this, where for instance, in the institution of marriage, or a long-term relationship, or friendships, family, or whatever, it is about checking in every so often: “Wait! Life is running away with us. What do we want? What do we want in choosing this city, this school, this town, this job, this house?”

And that happens on individual levels. Like in my own life, I think, “Have I gotten away from this thing that I cared about five years ago? Have I checked in about this?” I feel like with the content of this album, I found myself thinking about the country, and I found myself thinking about me. Especially, with the more introspective song “The Right Time.” That’s the one where she talks to herself a little bit?

AO: Yeah, exactly. She’s like, “Don’t give them anything to laugh about.”

SW: Like a pep talk.

AO: Yeah, exactly that. It is a pep talk. That’s kind of my idea, about what she or anybody in her position would be going through as a woman with so much to offer, such a big brain, and so much potential. But, what do you have to climb over when you’re living in a time where you’re not valued and the only jobs available are to be a teacher in a one-room school house, or to leave the town that you grew up in? And people are going to look at you. People are gonna make fun of you if you’re a smart woman. People still make fun of smart women. It’s so weird.

Sara, we’ve talked about this a lot, being women in music, about how I feel like I’ve been so lucky and so respected throughout my career as a musician. You know I’ve always felt very valued and have very rarely been made to feel “less than” due to my gender. I feel so lucky that I’ve been in a community of musicians who have really supported me. But I know that that’s not the case for many musicians, and across other fields it is absolutely not the case.

SW: Yeah. I feel I have had a similar experience with that support. I can only imagine that in that era, when community really was the people around you – not people somewhere on the internet, in a town across the country that you can kind of connect with. She could physically rally the people in her region by convincing newspapers to publish things.

AO: By like getting up on stage and giving speeches or by writing a letter to the President and getting responses. Obviously, she’s not the only one. There were many women who were powerful and were doing amazing things. They just had to try so much harder, and that is what’s interesting. I think having a daughter in this time of life, in the 2020s, you want to give them the tools to always feel that they have the confidence and awareness to think of themselves as equal and powerful.

SW: Tell me about the research you did for this. So, the idea was presented to you and commissioned by The Orlando Philharmonic. Is that right?

AO: By the Orlando Phil, yep! So the OPO asked me in 2019. They said, “It’s the centennial of the passage of the 19th Amendment.” A lot of orchestras in the U.S. were asking female composers to write music for concerts they were doing. They were trying to diversify their programming. And when OPO asked me to do a piece, I was sort of like, “Why me?” That’s something I’ve never done before, writing an orchestral piece to be performed as a commission. It just felt like, that’s not how I operate. You know what I mean, I’m a songwriter. But I said, “Yes, that would be a good challenge.”

I didn’t think about it for a while, and then COVID happened, and everything kind of got crazy. I was like, “I’m never gonna write another song again, maybe this is it, maybe I’m done making music.” And then when I got down here to Florida, I started to regain some sense of artistic confidence and inspiration. I started to write a little bit of Age of Apathy that fall and then started to work on this 20- to 25-minute piece of music. So I went into the studio and really started to write it. But without text. I didn’t really even know what the text was going to be about yet. I wrote all the music first, because I had to get it to the orchestrator, Tanner Porter, who orchestrated all the charts for me. That was gonna take a lot of time.

That was November and the concert was supposed to be in May. I needed to get her the music. So I was working, working, working, and didn’t have any text. I wrote all the vocal parts and all the music sketched out to what I wanted it to be. We talked a ton about, “Hey, I want this to open with brass, and I want strings to come in here, and I want this line to be played on cello, and these are the brass lines that I want.” I would make these demos where I would play all that stuff for her, and then she orchestrated it. She also put together all the interludes that sort of stitch the songs together, which are so cool.

It was really fun to have this blank slate without any lyric goal or hesitancy to hold me back. I had simultaneously been doing research, reading, and figuring out what I wanted it to be. “All My Friends” is really just an imagining of the moment when these movements met up in Tennessee to get these votes ratified. And they did march. And they did plead their case and were ultimately successful. But those images are from my own head, like a reimagining of vague historical events.

SW: Let me just jump in really fast just to say that I love how much space you gave for yourself in imagining that imagery. I feel like my own temptation would be to report and do the research and make it rhyme. I feel like you’re the perfect artist for this kind of commission, because of the way that your melodies can float above or without the constraints of rigid time that a lot of us songwriters are tempted to do. The way you carry a line – I don’t think you always realize how extraordinarily unique it is. I think that because of the way that you do music like that, it lends itself to an orchestral project where we’re not dealing with 8-bar phrases and the occasional extra 2 bars and things.

I feel like you are the perfect singer-songwriter to receive this kind of commission. I am so happy that you indulged in that vision of the world, of the people descending into Tennessee, and what the fog was like and what the air was like. Because that is what the feeling was like and that’s the story. It’s not just, “on this date this happened.” I’m glad that you put yourself in the story, because that gave so much room for the arc and the heart of the thing and makes me wanna listen. If I had done this, it would sound like an eighth-grade book report.

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AO: No, come on, give yourself more credit, Sara! I don’t have any idea what Carrie Chapman Catt was like personally, because I didn’t know her, but I felt like I could give her dialogue. You can make her personality be whatever it is that you want her to be.

I just read this amazing book called Wolf Hall. I was so fascinated by how the writer, [Hilary Mantel], makes Thomas Cromwell, this character, from the 1500s, feel like this modern, empathetic, shrewd, conniving, and complicated character. That also could have felt like an eighth-grade book report about Thomas Cromwell, but the author injected life into him. That’s the cool thing when you are an artist and when you are a writer, that’s what we do for people who were real or people who we’re making up. You’re taking these embellishments, and you’re telling a story with them.

With the song “Crisis,” [Carrie Chapman Catt] gave a speech called “Crisis” in 1916, and I read that speech and thought, “Oh, my God! This!” Yes, she’s using archaic language, and nobody speaks like this, but how can I imagine her as almost like a bluegrass singer getting up there and saying, “Alright, gather around girls. I’m gonna tell you about what’s going on and what we’re gonna do about it.”

Once I realized I could make it my own because this is my piece, it sort of like set me free into this new creative territory.

SW: And the way that you’re talking about “Crisis,” just the word itself makes you think of ominous minor chords and tension. And with those beautiful horns and flutes, it is just this wonderful, hopeful dawn of a movement. The dawn of a new time is here while you’re singing about the crisis. I love the optimism that’s contained in that and how you acknowledge that everything is all together.

AO: Exactly. One of my favorite things about “Crisis” is I really wanted there to be mandolin on it. It just has that folky feel to it. I had connected with Sierra Hull, who obviously, I’ve known for years and years, but we hadn’t really played that much music together, and I remember being on Cayamo in 2022, and really jamming with her for the first time. And then, you know, fast forward to eight months later I was like, “Oh, I think Sierra would totally kill this song.” I love her playing on it. It just has the right amount of weight to it.

SW: On “War Measure,” I’ve never heard you sing like you do on that chorus. The way you pull down those notes!

AO: It’s hard. It’s actually really hard for me to sing like that. It hurts my voice. But that’s actually my favorite one to do live, because there’s something about singing those lines, “If they pass this amendment to our constitution, we are gonna be talking about revolution.” That’s funny, because I had written that song without the lyrics. And then when I put the lyrics in, I was like, “Oh, this is actually, really rad.” It made it fun.

SW: I bet that was really fun. It makes sense that you wrote the lyrics after a lot of the music, because you get so much in there. It feels like you have room to expand the lines in ways that you might not if you’re writing it down on paper, right? And you get to really chew on certain lines for longer. I feel like there are some lines that get the time that they want to have rather than the time that might have been allotted to them.

AO: Exactly. It was odd, but I’m really glad that it worked out like that.

SW: I love “Over the Finish Line.”

AO: With Anaïs [Mitchell], who is a genius.

SW: And such a wonderful voice to have on here, both in terms of tonality – because you sound amazing together – but also because her songwriting voice has been a voice of movement, a voice of awareness. I love that choice.

AO: The idea kind of came after the fact. I recorded the song and I wanted there to be another voice. I didn’t want it to be me singing harmony with myself. I wanted something starkly different, tonally, from my voice. I’ve known Anaïs for almost 20 years. We’ve been in this same scene and the same world, but we’ve never really done anything together. It worked out so well. I love what she did and how she moves around through the melody and the unison part at the end of the song. I felt connected to her.

SW: I love how it is not the kind of harmony part where you are trying to blend them together. It is very much two individuals choosing to sing together. There are places where your phrasing is different and you’re shortening different lines. It is a perfect example of what you have throughout this record with the children’s choir and the orchestration. To have this lovely duet moment is another version of the sisterhood of letting everyone be themselves rather than needing to have it all looking so pretty and clean and tidy. It is like, “We are existing together, and it’s a beautiful thing.”

AO: Exactly.

SW: It is so well done.

AO: Thank you so much, Sara.


Photo Credit: Sasha Israel

WATCH: Melody Walker, Crys Matthews & Heather Mae, “Room”

Artist: Melody Walker, Crys Matthews, Heather Mae
Hometown: Melody – Bay Area, California; Crys – Richlands, North Carolina; Heather – Washington, D.C. Area
Song: “Room”
Release Date: September 15, 2023
Label: AntiFragile Music

In Their Words: “‘Room’ started as a conversation between me and my co-writer, Sarah Potenza, about the enduring underrepresentation of women and other marginalized folks on festival lineups, but it blossomed into so much more. The ways that women and woman-aligned people are expected to not take up space in the world: to not be fat, loud, queer, creative, assertive, and are definitely not to band together in solidarity to fight against our own oppression. Community and joy are the keys to liberation, and this song celebrates both. I am so glad my faves Heather and Crys were down to come bring it to life with me.” – Melody Walker

“The first time I heard the demo of ‘Room’ that Melody sent me, I had tears in my eyes by the time it got to, ‘Your win is mine, I’ll root for you.’ As a Black, Butch-of-center lesbian in the Americana and country genres, it rarely feels like there is room for women in general, and especially not for women like me. Getting to lift my voice alongside Melody to echo the powerful sentiment contained within this song was an absolute honor. I hope it empowers women and girls to advocate for one another on and off the stage.” – Crys Matthews

“This song is so much more than just an all-woman collab. ‘Room’ stands as a celebratory rallying cry against the enduring patriarchal norms that fuel female rivalry. There persists this notion that there’s only one seat at the table and, when women scan the music industry’s landscape, you can see why we’d be forced to think that. It’s 2023, and a woman has yet to secure a Grammy for Producer of the Year. Examine festival lineups and you’ll see a stark gender imbalance in the representation of male and female artists. This scarcity of ‘room’ forces us into a perceived competition, when in reality, our struggle should be directed at dismantling the system that pits us against one another.” – Heather Mae

Track Credits: Written by Melody Walker & Sarah Potenza

Vocals: Melody Walker; Heather Mae
Vocals and Guitar: Crys Matthews
Slide Guitar: Jacob Groopman
Bass: Michael Majett
Drums: Alex Bice
Keys: Jen Gunderman
Additional Guitars: Dan Knobler
Produced by Dan Knobler


Photo and Video Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz
Filmed live at Sound Emporium Studios, Nashville, TN

LISTEN: Kristen Grainger & True North, “Across the Mountains”

Artist: Kristen Grainger & True North
Hometown: Portland, Oregon
Song: “Across the Mountains”
Album: Fear of Falling Stars
Release Date: November 10, 2023

In Their Words: “‘Across the Mountains’ started as a banjo riff, a total earworm Dan [Wetzel] kept playing on this five-string, open-back banjo he built. Dan calls it a ‘mountain banjo,’ it’s got a wood ring instead of metal, sounds really organic and cool. He dubbed the tune ‘Across the Mountains,’ a haunting modal progression that just begs for a dark tale to go along with it. So I crafted a melody and lyrics to ride along the currents of the tune, unfolding a story about a woman seeking refuge in the mountains after getting revenge on her cruel and unfaithful lover.

“In true ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ style, she sets the house on fire after he leaves her, then makes a run for it. I love story songs, but traditionally, women who are the subject of a bluegrass tune have not fared well (‘Banks of the Ohio,’ ‘Pretty Polly,’ ‘Knoxville Girl,’ etc. It’s a long and tragic list). At a time when women’s autonomy, even our right to exist, is called into question, we had to ask ourselves why we’d even play those kinds of songs. And we offer ‘Across the Mountains’ –
a woman’s story in a woman’s voice – as a step towards changing the traditional bluegrass narrative.” – Kristen Grainger


Photo Credit: Frank Miller Photography

True to Her Activist Roots, Folk Legend Peggy Seeger Still Longs for Peace (Part 2 of 2)

At 85 years old, Peggy Seeger stands as one of the most accomplished figures in folk music. She has recorded 25 solo albums, plus dozens more with her late husband, Ewan MacColl, along with collaborations with her siblings and generations of other folk musicians. She is a multi-instrumentalist who has edited and compiled folk music anthologies, and she ran a well-known magazine featuring contemporary songs for 20 years. All that while touring, writing more than 200 songs, raising three children and serving as an immoveable force for peace and human rights. And hers was the face that inspired MacColl to write “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”

From her home in England, Seeger spoke to BGS about her new album, First Farewell, and what that title really means.

(Editor’s Note: Read the first of our two-part Artist of the Month interview with Peggy Seeger.)

BGS: You wrote “How I Long for Peace” 20 years ago, but it’s really appropriate now. Can you talk about it?

When we decided to make a new CD, my son Calum had me sing to him any song that I hadn’t recorded. Because I lived in the United States for 16 years and wasn’t touring England, I wrote quite a number of songs that my kids never heard. “How I Long for Peace” was one of those. And when Calum heard it, he loved it. So, it went on the album, and so many people are commenting on it. It’s kind of like a hymn, and it has a very singable chorus, and it ties up nations and politics with climate change and the plunder of the planet. When I sing it, I feel such a longing in my heart. I feel the violence of the world. We’ve just had a horrendous murder here. In this country, a young girl who was walking home by herself disappeared. She was found two counties away in a woods. And there’s been a tremendous uprising here on the part of women. But it’s not until men uprise against this that it’ll ever be changed.

Can you talk about the project’s title, First Farewell?

I remember my brother Mike, who was with New Lost City Ramblers — once they broke up they had an annual farewell concert every year. I thought that was marvelously funny. So, I thought First Farewell will make people think. But it’s based on the two farewells that you give at the airport. You know, if you stay to wave goodbye to the person at our airport, you hug, and then they go through where only passengers are allowed. And they walk about 40 yards away, and then they turn to the right. So, the first farewell is the hug, and there is a second farewell where they wave goodbye just before they turn that corner.

In lots of ways at my age, I’m saying farewell to a lot of things, almost daily. When you’re my age, you see your body doing this, doing that, and you feel you’re slowly decaying. And it gives you a new feeling of togetherness with nature. I really have more of an attachment to nature and the birds and the daffodils and the trees than ever I did before. And I’m doing a lot of listening to books about nature. I’m beginning to feel that humanity is this very, very powerful paper-thin sandwich filling between what happens above the earth and below the earth, and we are just this kind of bacteria that is sitting along the edge of the earth. [Laughs]

Because I do feel that nature is calling us. Nature realizes that we are a danger. The same way as we’re trying to get rid of COVID, nature’s trying to get rid of us. And power to her if that’s her best way of teaching us anything, because we don’t learn at all. We just repeat everything that we’ve done before. But the first farewell is the recognition that I am near the goalpost. And within sight of the goalpost. I’ve been running like hell. But I run more slowly now.

Why did you move back to the United States in 2006, and then why did you return to Great Britain?

A tumultuous love affair brought me here permanently in 1959. I became a British subject in 1959 and settled down here. After Ewan MacColl died, 30 years ago, I had a new partner, a woman, my best friend, the only person that I’ve been head over heels in love with. And after four or five years, I had an incredible urge to go to America to find out who I had been before I came here – because I was a child when I moved here. And I immediately became totally involved in England. I grew up in England from age 24 and 54. That’s when I really became an adult. (I shouldn’t say that, because I’m not an adult yet.)

In 1994, I got this terrific urge to go back to America. I wanted my partner to come with me, but she couldn’t. So, I said, I’ll go and see what it’s like. It was the first time I’d lived on my own ever in my life. I toured America endlessly for 16 years. Then I began to realize that I really, really, really missed my kids. So, I just felt that urge to come back here. And now that I’m back here, I’m so glad I came back.

My children live in three corners of London. I can reach any of them in two hours. We talk on the phone, and I’m part of my family that I created again. My American family is very big, but very scattered. And the ones that I was really attached to are all gone. So, what made me move back was a gut feeling of where I belonged. And it’s so wonderful that my children are helping. They’re making it possible for me to keep going.

What do you see as the bright spots in today’s political and social movements? What gives you hope?

On all of the really big issues, what’s happening is small grassroots groups. People who want something done, want something changed, want something different are realizing that the government says it will take care of it — but it doesn’t. So, small groups are forming everywhere, saying, “We have to do this ourselves because our government is not doing it.” I’m part of a group like that here where I live, near the edge of Oxford. And Oxford has just spread and spread and spread and spread until it has incorporated one beautiful old village and then another old village. Then they become surrounded with new housing. And they have taken away the green land, taken away the beauty of the old villages.

I live in an old village called Iffley. Its church was built in the 1100s. And since 1964, 16 of its green spaces have been sequestered for housing. Plunk, they put 20 houses here; plunk, they put 50 houses there. Well, there are four acres left, two ancient fields that have not been touched for 1000 years. And our council wants to put 50 houses on them. I’m part of a group that is acting out of incandescent rage at this. If the housing is put in, it will be the end of our village – the end of it. I’ve always tried to be part of a small group that does something locally.

Parting words?

I’d like to thank you for the attention you gave to Laurie Lewis, because she is so good. She’s wonderful. I love that kind of music. I really, really do. And it’s something that I really miss over here, joining in on the radio with all of that wonderful singing that you can sing along with. I do miss the whole American scene, I do. But I’m a Gemini and I’ve chosen one of my twins, so I live here.

What I would like to say is that I have been very privileged in my life, extremely privileged, unlike a lot of people who need to struggle to make their names recognized. My name was recognizable due to my brother Pete, and my mother, my father. And I came at the end of other musicians who had smoothed the path out for me. I have had every possible advantage: two wonderful life partners, both of whom contributed to my career, and who have pushed me on and helped me. And children who don’t hate me! [Laughs] And a country that I kind of understand.

And enough money that I’m not in need in my old age. “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” brings in a reasonable amount of income. People still hear it all over the place with some very funny covers. Oh, my god, it’s been covered over 400 times that we know of. There’s a rap version. There’s a country and western version. There’s a gospel version. There’s what I call a barbeque quartets version. There’s one with Scruggs banjo on it. I am just so fortunate, and I’m thankful that I’m being given an old age that makes me visible and worthwhile.

(Editor’s Note: Read the first of our two-part Artist of the Month interview with Peggy Seeger.)


Photo credit: Vicki Sharp

Peggy Seeger Gathers Her Created Family for ‘First Farewell’ (Part 1 of 2)

Peggy Seeger began her life surrounded by brilliant and groundbreaking musicians: a mother who was an internationally known composer; an ethnomusicologist father; half-brother Pete, legendary for both his songs and his political courage; brother Mike, musician and song-catcher. In the latter years of her career, she is making music with what she calls her “created” family — her three children who share her delight in songwriting and performing.

Like Pete, Peggy was an outspoken leftist who was blacklisted in the 1950s, and she has never stopped speaking her mind through lectures, interviews, and her music. On the occasion of her newest release, First Farewell, we were honored to speak with her from her present home near Oxford, England. Here is the first of our two-part interview with BGS Artist of the Month, Peggy Seeger. You can read part two here.

BGS: Listening to your new recording, I was struck by how beautiful your voice is. Do you have to work at keeping it that way?

Seeger: I don’t feel it’s beautiful. It’s so reduced from what it used to be. What’s happened is I’ve moved down into the lower ranges where it’s more vibrant. And there I can, for some reason, feel more emotionally connected. I practice every day. I actually sit down and sing as if I’m giving a concert every day. It’s like any muscle: if you keep it to keep it working, you won’t lose it. And I walk every day. And I walk quite fast, so sometimes I get out of breath. You need to build your lung capacity. I’m pleased that you think it’s beautiful. I never thought it was.

What prompted you to create this new album?

My children have realized that there’s nothing else that I enjoy as much as singing. I don’t have any other way of expressing myself. I don’t cook well. I do make sourdough bread. … Five years ago, they asked me what I wanted for my 80th birthday, and I said I want to tour with my two sons. They said they would do a week of touring – and it worked out to be 16 days. But they said we needed an album to tour with. So that was when we recorded my previous album called Everything Changes, and I realized how strong it is, working with an entire family network.

Everyone in my created family one generation down is involved: my two sons, my daughter and two daughters-in-law perform all that I need: a manager, a minder, accompaniment, co-writing, graphics. It’s all there, including doing the recording. If you’re a singer for a living you need to put out a new recording periodically. And so that’s what we did [with this new project]. We took a couple of songs that were quite old. “The Tree of Love” I made up about 10 years ago; “How I Long for Peace” I made up 20 years ago and never recorded. “Gotta Get Home by Midnight,” that was created strictly to be an encore. Now, that’s about the most egotistical reason! We had about 20 songs, and we just chose what was best for this album.

Can you talk about the song “The Invisible Woman”?

That was written with my son Neill. When he came to work with me on a song, we just looked at each other and said, “What should we write about?” And neither of us jumped at anything. So, then we started talking about our joint lives. He’s 61. And he said, “You know, Mum, I’m beginning to feel invisible.” It worked out that young women weren’t interested in him anymore. You know, in actual fact, they are. It’s just that he doesn’t necessarily sense it. So, I said, “Try being an 85-year-old woman, if you want to be invisible.” Because, you know, as older women, the baby factory is shut. We’re redundant as far as productive units are concerned. So, what have we got to offer? We’re not looked on as wise. We’re shunted off, and we have been ever since we’ve been living under a patriarchal system.

Do you visualize any specific incidents from your life when you think about that song?

Well, of course, I am both visible and invisible. I’m visible in in my career, although folk music is a fringe music. It’s not way up there like classical music, and it’s not so broad or in-your-face as pop music. So, I am visible in that field. But the minute I walk out in the city, or when I’m just a member of the public, I’m invisible. Occasionally a nice man will ask if I want help crossing the street. I became aware of this once when I was walking with my daughter. She was absolutely dressed to the nines. She would have been 20 or 25, so I would have been in my 60s. And we kept passing men who would do this: They’d look at me and they’d see my hair and then they’d look immediately to her and go like that [rolls her head up and down and up]. Their eyes were on her. They were not on me. Yeah, I’m very grateful for that. I’m tired of being under male scrutiny. From age 15 to about the age of 45, I put up with the groping and being pushed up against a wall. And I’ve had it! They don’t do that anymore. I’m an old woman and I don’t mind at all.

I imagined folk music as being, in a way, above gender discrimination.

Folk music is no way free of gender discrimination. It is packed with it. Full of it, hugely full of it. In the music, women are dismissed. We are victims. In some of the folk songs we were sent off for nagging our husbands. We were battered and beaten in some of the songs. Women were left with children in their arms. We were endless victims. I have a three-hour lecture on the position of women in folk songs. And it is despairing. And some of it is so outright misogynistic.

There was a song Pete used to sing, and he thought it was funny. At one point, before I became a feminist, I thought it was funny.

Oh, I had a wife and got no good of her,
Here is how I easy got rid of her,
Took her out and chopped the head off her
Early in the morning.

Seeing as how there was no evidence
For the sheriff or his reverence
They had to call it an act of Providence
Early in the morning.

So, if you have a wife and get no good of her
Here is how you easy get rid of her
Take her out and chop the head off her
Early in the morning.

It was so vicious that it was funny. You couldn’t believe that anybody would sing about this. So, if we really look at a lot of the content of the songs, women are just handed from man to man and were killed by a lot of the men. And a lot of the folk songs actually document real murders, like “Ellen Smith” and “Omie Wise” and “Pretty Polly,” and the other ones like Laura Foster in “Tom Dooley.” Endless murders — especially after we get pregnant. I still love the songs unfortunately. To me, they’re historic pieces. And they talk about what we’re battling now.

Your album sounds like you’re acknowledging loss, and at the same time, acknowledging contentment. Is that a fair characterization?

Well, people in my family who lived to the age of 85 generally live into our 90s. So, I’m looking at maybe another, hopefully, 10 or 15 years of life. And the recognition and acceptance of that makes a whole new frame of life. You live differently with that. I have mental snapshots of my past. I have oceans of them. So, the pictures in my head and what I’ve learned and experienced just flow back and forth with the tides.

That’s where songs like “Dandelion and Clover” come from. I didn’t set out to make a song about memory with “Dandelion and Clover.” All of a sudden, the thought of a little boy coming to our kitchen door just flew into my head. He died when he was 8. He had a seizure on the schoolroom floor. He and I used to sit out in the field — there was a four-leaf clover field. We’d sit out there and talk about marriage and having babies when we were 8. And then the tragedy of him dying … but I didn’t feel it was a tragedy because I knew he was going to come back and marry me because I was told that’s what he would do.

In writing we try to marry up opposites or marry up correlated subjects, as in the song “Lubrication.” Or marry up diverging thoughts as in “How I Long for Peace,” contrasting peace with acts of violence and profit and greed. And to put those into a quiet, peaceful song.

What has it meant for you to be, as you say, in lockdown?

Nothing, because I’m a hermit anyway. I miss going into town, I miss going to the hairdresser. I miss going shopping, because other people shop for me, although now I’ve had two vaccine shots. So, I think I’m going to start shopping for myself again. But I’ve always been a hermit, I’m happy with my own company. My partner lives in New Zealand and I haven’t seen her for two years, because of COVID. And we’re not compatible for living together. So, I live on my own. I take care of myself. I keep busy. My god, I keep busy. There’s so much to do. And I talk to nice people like you.

(Editor’s Note: Read part two of our Artist of the Month interview here.)


Photo credit: Vicki Sharp

WATCH: Mallory Johnson & Twin Kennedy, “Wise Woman”

Artist: Mallory Johnson & Twin Kennedy
Hometown: Conception Bay South, Newfoundland & Labrador and Powell River, BC
Song: “Wise Woman”

In Their Words: “Immediately after we finished writing ‘Wise Woman’, we could visualize the music video. Although we knew it would be ambitious, we believed it was important to feature as many women’s stories as we could in three and a half minutes. We also wanted to feature leaders who have inspired us, raised us, and helped shape us into the women we are today. Our mothers are in the video, our sisters, our nieces, our friends, our mentors. This video is not about Mallory Johnson and Twin Kennedy in the spotlight singing a pretty song. It’s about the message, the conversation and the women.” — Mallory Johnson & Twin Kennedy


Photo credit: Jessica Steddom

Inspired by Loretta Lynn’s Story Songs, Margo Price Sings a Duet With Her Hero

Loretta Lynn’s new album, Still Woman Enough, not only brings a collection of new songs from the venerable artist, but also makes a point of celebrating women in country music that have come after and alongside her. Appearing on the Legacy Recordings project are pillars of country music like Reba McEntire, Carrie Underwood, Tanya Tucker, and Margo Price. About including these all-stars, Lynn said, “I am just so thankful to have some of my friends join me on my new album. We girl singers gotta stick together. It’s amazing how much has happened in the 50 years since ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ first came out and I’m extremely grateful to be given a part to play in the history of American music.”

Steel guitar, fiddle, shuffling drums, and a story told straight are the key ingredients in “One’s on the Way,” a song about the underappreciated struggle of raising children. In a promotional, behind-the-scenes spot for their duet version, Price shared her unique perspective as a creator who had the privilege of working alongside a lifelong heroine. The song is especially meaningful to Price, who said of the collaboration, “I chose ‘One’s on the Way’ because it’s an important song. It was an important song at the time and it’s still an important song; to be able to talk about birth control and women’s rights in country music is legendary.”

Lynn carried “One’s on the Way,” which was written by Shel Silverstein, to No. 1 in 1971. It also served as the title track of her album that year. Her recording of it received a 1972 Grammy nomination, one of 18 she’s earned in her six-decade career. Still Woman Enough is the country legend’s 50th studio album.

In an interview about their duet, Price observes, “What first drew me to Loretta was, obviously I love her voice and I love the way she sings, it’s so powerful, but it is what she’s saying and how she’s saying it. ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ and those story songs, they gave me the blueprint as a country artist and just as a writer in general. Loretta said you either have to be first, great, or different. You know, she was all three.”

As an acclaimed artist who has been outspoken in her music throughout her own career as well, Price concluded, “Loretta is such an important figure to me. She’s larger than life in so many ways, and she really was this no-frills, no-BS, singing straight from her heart. And yet, men can sing about sex, they can sing about straight-up murdering someone and it was fine, but Loretta was not afraid to step on any toes. She wrote her truth. I think Loretta’s songs are timeless, and I’ve taken so much knowledge and wisdom from her, just watching how she navigated her career and motherhood. She’s one of the greatest of all times.”


Photo credit: Bobbi Rich

On ‘The Tonight Show,’ Amanda Shires and Jason Isbell Perform “The Problem”

The best songwriters use all the tools at their disposal to craft their music. Among tools like instrumentation, timbre, and arrangement is story, a sometimes-overlooked device for writing incredible music. Amanda Shires is no stranger to story and demonstrates her aptitude as a writer in her emotional single, “The Problem.” The song tells a specific story, but not in an “on-the-nose” fashion; instead, it feels like a memory, slightly faded and filled with more feelings than information. Upon the single’s release, Shires stated, “This song is about making tough decisions and not having to go it alone.”

Delivered as a conversation between Shires and husband Jason Isbell, “The Problem” has a dreamy quality due to its winding melody and a cloud of reverb glowing over the studio production. With a similar atmosphere and feeling as The Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever,” it acts as a testament to Shires’ knack for skillfully navigating lyric, tonality, and instrumentation to spin a narrative with a brooding unrest beneath the surface. Take a moment to hear one of the best writers in roots music today with this live performance of “The Problem” on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

LISTEN: The Two Tracks, “All Women Are Healers”

Artist: The Two Tracks
Hometown: Sheridan, Wyoming
Song: “All Women Are Healers”
Album: Cheers to Solitude
Release Date: August 14, 2020

In Their Words: “‘All Women Are Healers’ was inspired by the title of a natural healing book that has been in my collection for years. The song speaks as a supportive women’s anthem highlighting the importance of women in the world. I feel incredibly lucky to have had the chance to work with Will Kimbrough producing this record and Sean Sullivan engineering at The Butcher Shoppe in Nashville, just months before the studio was forced to close their doors because the property is being redeveloped. The history in that room was thick. We recorded our past two albums there and would have recorded every future one in that studio — it was such a low-key comfortable atmosphere to create in. I also appreciate Will for connecting us with an incredible woman for the mixing phase of the album, Trina Shoemaker. She is one of the best in the Americana industry right now and it is refreshing to see women in these often male-dominated roles. It’s good to see the current progressive shifts in awareness of the social standards and prejudices women still deal with across the world.” — Julie Szewc, The Two Tracks


Photo credit: Dean Owens

LISTEN: The Ballroom Thieves, “Homme Run”

Artist: The Ballroom Thieves
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Song: “Homme Run”
Album: Unlovely
Release Date: February 14, 2020 (album)
Label: Nettwerk

In Their Words: “How do you put words to how powerful women are? How do you hinder what they learn, if they read, who they can become, or what they do with the organs in their bodies? When a piece of the population’s voices are quieted there can be no conversation about how to guide society. As the avalanche of our man’s world finally finishes its incredibly destructive crumble downward, we can see that this issue is devastatingly simple. Any words used to govern a person must be said by a relatable ally, or the rules are empty and harmful.

“We can’t earn equality in this world for men, we have to make it ourselves. Women are the creators and sustainers of human life. We’ll use the power of our voices not to control others, but to liberate ourselves to create and sustain humankind more effectively. This is everybody’s world now.” — Calin Peters, The Ballroom Thieves


Photo credit: Anthony Mulcahy