Jobi Riccio Interview

Colorado-born and currently living in Nashville, Jobi Riccio has just released her third album, FACE THE FEELING. The recipient of the Newport Folk John Prine Fellowship in 2023, Jobi has taken a massive step forward with the new album, which tackles the grinding reality of self-examination  and broader worldly concerns with brutal honesty. It’s a powerfully emotive project from a young artist blessed with the ability to express both anguish and fulfilment in her songs.

It’s been three years since we spoke with you about your last album, WHIPLASH. If that record was a ‘coming of age’ project, how would you describe your new album, FACE THE FEELING?

FACE THE FEELING is an album where I am looking at a lot of things that I was avoiding in the past. In a way, it’s an album of reckoning but also an album of growth, speaking the truth and learning to talk to yourself lovingly and honestly. In that way, it’s a natural progression from WHIPLASH.

I described it as an exercise in ‘mirror gazing’ before I got a physical copy of the record and saw your image in the inner sleeve doing just that.

It’s a reflective album, facing up to things. I don’t know if that image is a bit obvious, but I thought it was cool. We did a lot of photo shoots with mirrors in small videos. I had this idea of the words ‘face the feeling’ coming up time and time again to someone in their daily life and thought that one of the most likely places that they would see that would be on the bathroom mirror when they wake up in the morning. I struggled with being someone who avoided things for a long time and got to a place where I could no longer do that, so there are a lot of songs and lyrics on this record where I am reckoning with that.

The extremely emotional opening song A Little At  A Time stopped me in my tracks to the extent that I put it on repeat before listening to the rest of the album.

We did two local takes of that song, and I cried after the second one. My friend and co-producer Isaiah Beard, that I was recording with, just looked at me and said, ‘we’re done with the vocals on that one.’

The production on the album is more adventurous than your previous work. I particularly like the addition of strings to that track and a few others. Was that input suggested by your producer, Jesse Timm?

Yes, that was Jesse’s input; they wrote and arranged all those string parts, hired the players and conducted that whole session. I heard mock-ups of the strings beforehand and went back and forth on a few things, but by and large, it was all Jesse. We’ve been writing and working on my music together for years, and Jesse is one of the first people that I will send a song to. I was really excited about having strings. The Breeders’ LAST SPLASH record has some really cool string parts on a few of the songs. I grew up in the era of chamber pop music, and bands like Ra Ra Riot and Vampire Weekend were super popular when I was a teenager. I love string parts, but we didn’t really get a chance to do that on my last record, and Jesse and I both wanted to have strings on this record.

You co-produced with both Jesse and Isaiah Beard. Did that connection arise from you all attending the Berkeley College of Music?

Yes, that was the connection for Jesse and me. It was through Jesse that I met Isaiah. We were looking for someone else to bring in to record WHIPLASH, and a friend of mine from school had just done a record with Isaiah and sent me some rough mixes. The production and mixes on them were really cool. We have grown together as a collaborative unit.

Where did you record the new album?

We recorded at Club Roar studios in Nashville. Isaiah lives here in Nashville, and Jesse came from New York City for the recording. With the exception of the strings, all the other players were Nashville-based.

There is some seriously open-hearted songwriting on the album. A Little At A Time, which I previously mentioned, and High Beam being another.

I wrote High Beam when I was cat-sitting at my friend's house. It’s a vulnerable song that I wanted to add humour to deflect from the body of the song. I was going through a heartbreak as well as going through a larger life pattern, being attracted to the wrong type of person, which I think a lot of young people do. I had this idea for a lyric about someone being caught in a headlight, and I wondered how I wanted to say it. Sometimes I get an image or a metaphor that won’t leave me, and I wonder how I can crystallise it into something that will work. Once I got the lyrics “Your stare was like a high beam, I got drunk on that shine”, the rest just spilt out of me.

Love Of The Song includes the lyrics “I’m not drinking for the taste or singing for the love of the song.” Autobiographical?

Yes, why lie? I’m not one to shy away from hard topics, and I think those lines and the song are honest. As a songwriter, I’m an observer of people, myself and the world around me. I wrote that song during a really hard period of my life. In Nashville, everyone here is a musician, a writer, a producer, or otherwise involved in music, and being really plugged into your career can kill the joy of it if you don’t get some space away from it. I was really struggling with the work/life balance when I first moved here, coming from Denver, where I had a few musician friends, though my family were not musicians. Things in Nashville felt like too much and still do, and I have to work to cultivate my hobbies and my other interests and take a step back and not use alcohol or continually scrolling on my phone and any other easy thing you can reach for when I feel sad or anxious about my life or the state of the world. Who doesn’t feel that way at times?

You forcefully express your concern for the environment in Wildfire Season, one of the album’s standout tracks.

I remember being a small kid and having deep climate anxiety before I even knew what that term was or what climate change was. I was very connected to nature growing up in a beautiful area, and then, driving into the city, witnessing pollution and being affected by it. Once I learned about climate change in school, it became a big issue for me. My first job in high school was as an environmental canvasser, going door to door to ask people to get involved. If I weren’t doing music, I would be working in forestry and something climate related. The song Wildfire Season was a long time coming. I’ve dealt with wildfires my whole life and have seen them get worse and worse as I've got older. Everyone my age has lived with climate change and the loss of public land. It’s heartbreaking to be from a place with such access to beautiful nature, watch that diminish, be encroached upon, see oil and gas exploration come in, and have that culminate in wildfires. I was looking for the words to that song for years and wanted to include a nod to indigenous power movements because some of the loudest voices in the climate movement are indigenous. I get a lot of energy from playing that song in my sets; it’s a moment of catharsis in my shows. I also do a bit of fundraising around that, selling postcards featuring my hometown that read ‘wildfire season.’

The album cover, depicting a large billboard with the slogan FACE THE FEELING is striking.

That billboard is from a drive-in movie theatre in Buena Vista, Colorado. I wanted the album cover to be a big screen or a billboard that read ‘Face The Feeling’ because I kept coming back to someone seeing those words, because this record is me confronting different feelings and issues. I didn’t want my face on the album cover and wanted something that was a bold statement. I had the idea of having those words on something that big a year before we shot the album cover.

No doubt the album title is also aimed at a wider audience, not simply directed at you.

Yes. We live in a world today where if you don’t want to confront or be uncomfortable with anything, you don’t have to, but by doing that, you will not be happy. You don’t have to make yourself food; you can just order Uber Eats, and someone else will deliver it to you. You don’t have to ask someone in your community for a ride to the airport because you can order, once again, Uber. All these companies and corporations that streamline our lives by taking away the discomfort in our daily lives and profiting from our pain, much of which is tied to our phones. It’s having a big effect on our mental well-being. I can only speak for myself, but I notice in myself that I’m not processing the world around me as effectively as I did as a child because of all the phone screen time. The independent culture that we have in spades naturally in America is bad enough, and then you add technology to that, it’s overwhelming.

If I had not heard Jobi Riccio’s music before, how would you describe it to me?

I often struggle with that question because I think I’d have to come up with some cheeky-cool answer that I frankly don’t have.  But in a broad sense, I usually say Americana, indie-rock, and also a singer-songwriter to let people know that I write my own songs. There is a hyper-categorisation in culture driven by social media, and I am not good with categories; I prefer to be fluid in every sense of my life.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Bobby Dove Interview

Montreal-born singer-songwriter Bobby Dove’s latest album, FORTUNE TELLER, lands bang in the centre between classic country and folk. The songs swing between the intimate and ideological, laying bare a songwriter and vocalist unafraid to drill deeply into matters close to the heart. We caught up with Bobby mid-tour to get the background on the record’s songs and the recording.

How did the writing process for FORTUNE TELLER compare with your last record, HOPELESS ROMANTIC?

HOPELESS ROMANTIC was a very different project for me. A lot of the songs for that record were written in flux, while I was travelling or at the Banff Centre, whereas the FORTUNE TELLER writing process was more about getting home from tour, during the pandemic, and also grief writing.

Over what period were the songs written?

Some were written four or five years ago, and some of the songs I was finishing on my way down to Toronto to record. Those were half-finished songs, and I knew that they were good songs that just needed some more work. One of those that was incredibly unfinished was my co-write with Jim Lauderdale. I had some core songs where all the writing was finished, but in the weeks and days before recording, I did a lot of panic writing. Unlike HOPELESS ROMANTIC, where all the songs were done and dusted well before recording, for instance, I finished writing Trans Canadian Blues in Ontario on my way down to record the album. I felt the song needed to be a little looser, and I sat with a couple of friends very late at night, and although I wouldn’t call it a co-write, Alex Charbonneau contributed, and I thank her in the album’s liner notes.

You obviously work well under pressure.

Apparently so, I don’t intend to, but I think sometimes that is the only way that I work.

How long did the recording process take?

It was an eleven-day recording session, five days of tracking in the studio with the band, two or three songs each day. Then five days of overdubs, violin, electric guitar and back-up vocals. A big difference between this record and HOPELESS ROMANTIC is that the vocals on that album are the scratch recordings, whereas the vocals on this album are all overdubs.

You worked with Aaron Goldstein on the production of this record. He also played pedal steel and guitar.

Yes, during the pandemic, he was a good listener when I was doing mixing notes for HOPELESS ROMANTIC. He always seemed interested in working together, and I knew he had great credentials and was a talented engineer, musician, and producer.

Did he bring the musicians on board?

It was collaborative. Dani Nash had not played with me before, but Justine Fischer had. Nichol Robertson had also played with me before; he is on stage with me in some of my live videos on Youtube. I also asked Burke Carroll to play some pedal steel as well as Aaron; there’s never enough pedal steel for me. They play steel differently, 

The title track Fortune Teller opens the album. A sad song?

That was definitely one of the grief songs where I was probably depressed. I was sitting on my back deck, and it was a Thursday because the train went by, it only goes by on Thursdays, which started the idea for the ending of the song, which is ‘keep on moving.’

Much of the writing on the album relates to travel, both physical and life’s journeys.

Totally. Once the pandemic lockdowns were over, I came back with a vengeance, and after my cat Salem passed, I was unstoppable in the sense that I didn’t want to be at home. I completely threw myself into being on the road.

The closing track SALEM was written in memory of your pet cat.

Yes, and every time I have a meaningful thing with a cat on the road, it means a lot to me, and I always tell myself that it’s the spirit of my deceased cat Salem, who lived to be twenty-one years old. He actually inspired many of the songs on the new album.

You ask yourself, ‘Who am I?’ in that song.

I wrote all these songs and recorded them before I had a top surgery in 2025. I wasn’t happy with my body the year before that surgery, and things were getting mentally progressively worse for me with anxiety and gender dysphoria. My body was also changing as I aged and getting to the stage where a jean jacket wasn’t hiding it anymore. I also went through a lot of transformation. I stopped smoking cigarettes over two years ago and stopped smoking weed in 2023. Now that I’ve had the surgery and completely recovered, I’m doing karate and a lot of other healthy things.

Your co-write and duet with Jim Lauderdale, Did I Speak Too Soon, is a highlight on the record. How did that connection come about?

I met Jim in 2019 at a Folk Alliance conference in a speed meeting, and we immediately had a great connection. I wrote the song Sometimes It’s A Lonely Road which is on the HOPELESS ROMANTIC record, the day I met him. I said those words when I was talking to him, and he said that it would make a great song title, so I went home and wrote that song. I was in touch with him by email during the pandemic, and it was out there that we would record something together at some stage. We kept in touch after that, but I have to be honest that after meeting him, I practically became obsessed with him and had to curb that, or I thought I’d scare him away.

Had you the bones of the song written before he committed to record with you?

I had a song written with some really bad verses; it was worse than the fourth-grade poetry that I have preserved. It was just a placeholder for a melody I was working on. I fixed up some of those lines and had a working melody that I sent to Jim, who added stylistic things to and greatly improved the song. We went back and forth, improving the song, writing over the phone and by email. I was in Nashville in September 2024 for AmericanaFest and made a point of finding a studio there to record the song. We were planning to sing together, but it turned out we could not do the session that week I was in town. So I put my vocal and acoustic guitar down, and a while later, he went into the studio and added his vocals. It was a moment for me when the recording was sent to me; it was like having George Jones singing on my record.

The breakup song Leaving Manitoba must have been a difficult write.

That was the first song I wrote for the record back in 2021. I was isolated in Brandon, Manitoba. Some people think I actually moved from Manitoba, which I didn’t, because I still live there. So, the name of the province in the song title is not literal.  I still sing the song like I’m still hurting over it. Those disappointments, as much as we heal from them, when you sing a song or look at a photo, it reminds you of that experience. Songs can also be funny in ways. You might write one about a certain person, but it might also relate to another situation. That sometimes happens with my songs that take on new meanings as time goes on.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Bobby Dove will be performing at The Long Road Festival in the U.K. on Friday August 28th and has an official showcase at AmericanaFest in September.

Emily Nenni Interview

When we last spoke with Nashville-based Emily Nenni in 2022, she had just released ON THE RANCH, an album written during Covid while she was in lockdown on a ranch in Colorado. Four years and two albums later, we caught up again with the California-born artist after the release of MOVIN’SHOES, her recently released record on the New West label. Spurred on by real-life and personal issues, the album delves deeply into how we interact with others and ourselves.

You’ve said your new album, MOVIN’ SHOES, isn’t strictly honky tonk, unlike your earlier records. In our review, we compared it more to Dusty Springfield than Loretta Lynn. Is that a reasonable comparison?

That is an incredibly flattering comparison! I’m sure it has something to do with Memphis, the gifted musicians I worked with, as well as Matt Ross-Spang and John James’ engineering and production. I have been a fan of Dusty’s from a young age, and it was only a matter of time before her sound made its way into my music.

Does this change in musical direction reflect your influences or signal a sound you plan to pursue?

I am influenced by all types of music. Country, soul, funk, R&B, rap, jazz, blues and bluegrass. I’d like to think my previous records have a little bit of everything mixed in, but with this record and the ones to come, I’d like to hear it a little more up front.

Working again with producer John James Tourville, did his familiarity help create a more relaxed recording environment?

I love working with John James primarily because he allows the musicians to play like themselves. Sometimes a producer will hear a specific part in their head and force a player to play something that isn’t natural to them, and you can hear it. I am so fortunate to play with all of these talented folks, and they all bring something different to the table. John James allows them to shine, brings great energy to the sessions, and yes, is someone I trust very much. He is a beautiful person who hears what I’m writing and takes the time to reflect with me.

You recorded in Memphis this time. Given the album’s country-soul feel, was that location an obvious choice?

We mixed my last record, DRIVE & CRY, in Memphis at Southern Grooves with Matt Ross-Spang. It was just me, John James and Ross-Spang. Firstly, the studio is so special. Matt put so much time, thought and energy into building it. Secondly, I saw those two working together while mixing and knew they’d record well together. I think my soul inspiration came before working in Memphis, but its rich history certainly didn’t hurt the sound.

How long did the recording take?

We recorded for about a week and a half. At the end of the ten days, John James and I talked about how easy recording felt. The band worked so well together, and Ross-Spang is such a pro; it made it feel like pure joy. Right after recording was finished, we drove from Memphis back to Nashville, then straight to Austin, Texas, for South by Southwest. It was a whirlwind of a time.

Did you record with your regular band players?

I have used Alex Lyon on bass for ON THE RANCH, DRIVE & CRY and MOVIN’ SHOES. Jack Quiggins has been on rhythm and lead guitar here and there for DRIVE & CRY and MOVIN’ SHOES. I also work with these two when I’m recording my demos, and they generously help me add any chord changes that don’t come naturally. I trust their ears. The rest were by Matt Ross-Spang.

Were the horn section local Memphis players?

Yes, local Memphis players. Art Edmaiston, Marc Franklin, and Kirk Smothers. They’re unreal players.

Much of your songwriting on your albums plays out like a ‘here and now,’ an update of your current state of mind. That appears to be a consistent in your style of writing.

Yes, when I sit down to write, it’s mainly about what’s on my mind. Some of that could still be stuff from years ago that I haven’t processed. I don’t have a journal or a diary; I just write songs. So, it’s a very public permanent diary for all to hear.

There are a number of ‘questioning’ songs on the new album, like Take My Money, What Have I Done Wrong, and You Only Said It To Hurt Me. Are these songs firsthand or fictional, or a mixture of both?

Take My Money is about a management company I worked with briefly right around the time DRIVE & CRY was released. They didn’t do half of what they said they would when they worked with me, and in the end, they wanted all of my money. None of what they worked for. What Have I Done Wrong and You Only Said It To Hurt Me are also autobiographical, but from a relationship I had in my early twenties. It was a very unhealthy relationship, and some of those experiences still affect me now.

Your song Living In Shame speaks of ‘body shaming’ that confronts women exclusively. It’s a topic that you obviously and rightly feel strong about.

I wouldn’t say body shaming, more body image. I think the public is too hard on women’s bodies, but I know that men and women alike are too hard on their own bodies. We all see ourselves and have days of a lot of self-love, and others of feeling not good enough. It can be a lifelong struggle for so many, and it’s exhausting. Life is a lot bigger than your pant size.

You included two covers on the album, Paul Simon’s Tenderness and Derrell McClinton’s Honky Tonkin (I Guess I Done Me Some). Both are interesting choices. What drew you towards them?

Tenderness reflects a lot of the subjects I discuss throughout the record. It just felt right to record it, and sonically it’s a beautiful blend of country and soul. Honky Tonkin’ is a song we used to close our sets with; it’s such a blast to play. I’m such a fan of Delbert McClinton. His cadence and stage presence are something I admire very much.

I’ve noted some of my favourite tracks on the album. Are there ones in particular that give you the most personal satisfaction?

Movin’ Shoes is one of my favourites, sonically and lyrically. I am very proud of the message and the groove.

After a decade of hard work in Nashville and blending modern and traditional country music, has the journey become any easier?

With every hurdle you clear, there will be ten more. Some days that’s overwhelming, and others it’s motivating. I’ve overcome plenty of the last ten years, and I’m glad I was able to navigate it. I know there is a lot more to come, and I know I can figure it out, whatever it will be.

You’re touring in Europe during the summer. What can we expect on your setlist?

You’ll get something from every record! I’m very proud of everything I’ve released, and no matter where I am, I aim to get people dancing. I hope to see some two-stepping out there!

Emily will be on tour in Europe in the coming months, including performing at The Static Roots Festival in Oberhausen, Germany, on 10th July.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Rachel Brooke Interview

The cover shot on THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, Rachel Brooke’s latest album, reflects both her current mindset and the album’s musical direction. Wearing a Stetson and beaming, she hints at a happy, traditional country record, far removed from the sorrow often found in her earlier impressive work. The album is upbeat, laced with humour, and should grow Brooke’s loyal fanbase to a wider audience. Rachel was in top form when we spoke recently about the new album and the journey that led her down the classic country road with this project.

Before we talk about the new album, speak to me about SINGS SAD SONGS, which you released last year.

I was hitting it pretty hard out on the road with my band and was working on the songs from the new album, but I got to a point where I thought, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ and I needed to take a step back. I still had a need to create, so I just went to my basement, recorded SAD SONGS and put that record out to clear my mind and my soul.

You closed that album with a degree of hope with the song Silver Lining, which references advice your mother had given you.

Thank you for asking about that, because I’m intentional and ended that record with that song for a reason. There is always another side and more coming along the way.

Is the title of your new album THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, Rachel Brooke, looking in the mirror or is the title aimed at others?

The album title has lots of meanings for me, and it’s hard just to pinpoint one. I think THIS ONE’S FOR YOU is a country record with my best writing and the best sound. I put the work in, my heart and soul, and now I’m saying ‘Here you go.’ But the title track has a lot of different meanings too. In the song, I’m saying lots of things like ‘here’s a song for you’, but also a lot of different things, from ‘here’s a drink for you’ to ‘fuck off.’ It encompasses a lot of different things in one song.

It’s your most traditional country album. Was that intentional from day one?

Yes, I did because I never do the same thing twice when I’m recording an album. I will try to do whatever feels right for me at the time. This time it was country, because I grew up playing  country and bluegrass, even though I’ve made records that didn’t really exactly fit a hundred per cent in those categories. My country roots go really far back, so I decided to do a country record with this one and see how it turns out.

Did you record locally?

Yes. There were two different recording sessions on the record. Firstly, I recorded it near Detroit, which is about an hour and a half away for me. It was at a studio called Tempermill Studio, A pretty well-known studio in Detroit.  I worked with an engineer named Jake Chives. He is easy to work with and did a great job on the record; he also did a lot of the editing, mixing and mastering. And I then flew to Missouri, and Rick Wagner and I worked together on his guitar parts at his studio and sent those files back to Jake Chives. It was a unique experience because I worked with my brother, who is also an amazing producer, on all my other records at his studio. I decided to try something different for this record.

You’ve included a lot of humour in the songs.

A lot of my earlier albums were sad, from my heart and about relationships and my feelings at the time. This one feels like my own personality, I like to make jokes and puns and that came out strong in my writing. I also think it’s me growing as a person, having worked through a lot of pain in my twenties. I think I now have a better perspective on the world, and I’m in a new headspace now.

Were there particular artists that you were listening to while writing the songs for the record?

Yes. Shel Silverstein. As a kid, I didn’t think that much about him as a musician, but his playful writing, he wrote great songs for a lot of people. He was a great influence, and Roger Miller, who has a similar style and also wrote some weird stuff. John Prine was also a big influence, and I really dived into his music in the last few years. It’s good, smart and intentional writing.

You open the record with a confessional song, I Chose Poorly, with an element of tongue-in-cheek.

I think that was the best song to start the album with because I tried to add humour to the album. I thought long and hard about what song to start with and felt that song set the tone for the rest of the record.

When Dube Gets The Crud is a standout song. Is it based on a real-life character?

Yes, Dube was my stepdad; he passed away last year.  At a time when we were living in a small town in Northern Michigan, he lived about two miles away. We bought a house there, and there were lots of things that needed to be fixed. It was our first place, and we didn’t really know what we were doing. We’d call Dub up and ask him how to do things, and he always seemed to have the parts we needed and helped us fix lots of things around the house. One day, true story, we called him up looking for some help, and my mom just said, ‘No, Dube’s got the crud.’ That story developed into the song inspired by Shel Silverstein’s writing. It’s a real story and a pretty special song for me.

The Ballad of Bald Hill plays out like your life story, tinged with a degree of sadness.

I honestly feel very close to that song. It is the story of my life; every moment in that song is real. Bald Hill is the road I grew up on, and I have very fond memories of it. I often wish I could go back to those days. My mom still lives there. When I think of where I want to be when I die, it’s there. There is a church on Bald Hill where we went to Sunday School every week, and all I wanted to do, like most kids, was to go home. The song takes you through my life, where I was a teenager wanting to see the world and experience things away from a small town. I got married, divorced, while still trying to figure out exactly what I wanted from life. When I talk about ‘Cowboy Joe and the real outlaws’ in the song, that was a game that my siblings and I played. The end of the song is me just wanting to go home, somewhere that I wanted to leave as a kid, and now just want to go back to.

Is The Real Pretender aimed at a particular individual or the music industry in general?

It’s aimed at everybody and is meant to be funny. That song was inspired by spending lots of money trying to get your record heard and your music out there. There’s nothing wrong with that, but the song is making fun of the whole industry rather than just one person. A lot of it is from my own experience, and a lot of things that artists have to do that seem weird and dumb just to hope that people will hear your music and pay attention.

With so much music being released, how challenging is it to get your music heard?

I don’t mean this in a negative way, but there is just so much music out there, so I have no expectations about this album because I’ve found in the past that those expectations hurt.  If this record is meant to find somebody and does, I’m happy. It doesn’t really seem to matter how much money and time you put into promoting your music these days, I realise that now. All I can do is keep doing my best and put out good music.

As an independent artist, can you separate the artist from the business person?

I have to be in a totally different mindset to work on the administrative side of my career. For the last year or so, I’ve been in writing and recording mode, and now I have to try to get people to hear my music, though that input is fairly minimal compared to my last few releases.

Listening to the new record and chatting with you, I get the impression of a person totally reenergised.

After hitting that block last year and pushing against a brick wall, I actually feel free now. It’s like I had an epiphany or ego gap where I released every attachment and decided that I’m going to do what makes me happy. I’ve let go, and now I feel good.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Tony Poole Interview

Over a career spanning five decades, founding member of 70s rock band Starry Eyed & Laughing, Tony Poole, has released three albums with that band, produced music for a range of artists from Barbara Dickson to Gilbert O’Sullivan, and, in more recent years, produced and recorded two albums with U.K. supergroup Bennett Wilson Poole. Incredibly, Tony did not record a solo album until earlier this year when FAITH IN US was released. ‘I might be like David Crosby; he took forty-seven years to record his second album and then made four records in the last few years of his life,’he told Lonesome Highway when we recently spoke with him.

Had you always intended to record a solo album over the past five decades?

To put it mildly, over the years, I have been trying to keep the wolf from the door workwise. There have been times when I’ve had to live in my car for a while. I had been thinking about it all my life, and people had been saying that I should do it, so it’s a relief to have it out. The weird thing is that over the past few years, with the Bennett, Wilson, Poole records and the Starry Eyed and Laughing record, they were virtually solo records because I had done everything on them apart from them singing, using Danny (Wilson) and Robin (Bennett’s) great songs. So, they have been in effect solo records without my name on them.

Were the songs written over a long period of time?

There are a few that are quite new, like Chelsea Girls (1965) and the last track on the album, Film Noir. The oldest song Chasing The Rain is from about 1990, when I had a relationship with a girl in Denmark. I started it in 1990 but only finished it a couple of years ago. Love Or Something is from about five years later; those two are the oldest songs on the record.

I’m playing everything on the record except the saxophone parts. My girlfriend at one time was a really good saxophone player, but we didn’t have a very good parting. We used to have jam sessions, and I sampled a bit of her sax playing to put on two tracks, and I know if I asked her, she would probably send a hit squad out on me.

Were any of the songs intended for the Bennett, Wilson, Poole records?

The Slice Of Time was a song I introduced to Bennett, Wilson, Poole for our second album. We played it live a number of times, but for one reason or another, we didn’t include it on that record. I also had Imagine This as a perspective for the second Wilson, Bennet, Poole album, but Danny, and I don’t think he will mind me saying this, but he doesn’t like Imagine by John Lennon. Although unlike John Lennon’s song, it wasn’t about materialistic things, but about what’s happening in the States these days. Those two songs are from around 2018.

1965 was a purple patch for classic pop music.

Yes. I chose 1965 for the album’s inspiration because it seemed to be the peak year for that classic pop and because The Byrds released Mr Tambourine Man that year. I don’t think I could do anything that wasn’t rooted in that style of music.

You were in your early teens in the mid-60s. Was the song Chelsea Girls (1965) written from film and photographic details of that period rather than personal memories?

Exactly, I was too young to be around London at that time, although I was at a boarding school, and I do remember going down to the West End when I was sixteen and going to The Marquee to see a band called Green Ginger. That song mentions Ready, Steady, Go and other 60s things. Some people have picked up on the fact that Twiggy’s manager was Justin de Villeneuve. I use him as a cypher for all those people who cashed in at that time. I wanted to include 1965 in that song title to be like a time traveller going back to when everything was new, colourful and fresh. But at the same time, we didn’t realise that they were bombing the hell out of Vietnam. I hadn’t planned on putting it on the record, but I played it live last year at a solo gig, and several people told me they liked it. There's nothing like getting a compliment to give you some incentive.

Other than your devotion to The Byrds, what other bands stood out for you at that time?

The Beatles, obviously, there are a few songs on the album with similar arrangements to theirs. When I was a teenager at my nightmare boarding school, in the back of my exercise book, where I was supposed to be doing schoolwork, I kept a chart of the top records at the time. The Move, The Who, Small Faces, The Animals, The Walker Brothers and American bands Jefferson Aeroplane and particularly Love, I remember buying their first three records. I could also mention Dusty Springfield and Cilla Black, and there was a guy who wrote songs for Sandie Shaw called Chris Andrews; he had a song called I’m Her Yesterday Man. I was lucky because my dad had a Grundig tape recorder, and he used to record the Radio London shows because he was into that type of music at the time. I actually still have some of the tapes from those shows.

How long did the recording process take for the album?

I did demos in 2018 for the two albums' oldest tracks, which I had done for the Bennett Wilson Poole albums. Film Noir, Chelsea Girls, Love or Something and Broken Glass were all recorded over the past year. I think that is important because it keeps things fresh. The others would have been done over a five-year period.

Glenn Phillips’ guitar breaks on Film Noir are wonderful. Had you worked with him before?

I mastered a couple of Glenn’s records for a label called Shagrat Records about five or six years ago. Nigel Cross, who runs Shagrat, suggested I ask Glenn to play on the track. I sent him the raw track with my vocals and instrumentation; he sent me back his guitar parts, and I used exactly what he sent me. He really followed the narrative in the track. I can play lead guitar, but sometimes you run out of your own repertoire, and he got it so right.

In contrast to the album's upbeat nature, This Slice Of Time speaks to the destruction of the Amazon rainforest.

It’s a good way to express yourself without being on a soapbox; there are enough other people writing about broken hearts, and I’ve always liked songs like Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth and even if some people don’t like it, Barry McGuire’s Eve of Destruction. I had written the songs Lifeboats and Hate Won’t Win for the first Bennett Wilson Poole album and thought This Slice Of Time would work for this record.

Am I correct in describing the album as a labour of love for you?

Yes. I’m very much a one-man operation. I don’t put my music on Spotify; the balance between what you get and what the shareholders get is all wrong. When I promoted the album before Christmas, and the orders came in, I was sitting on the floor putting the CDs in jiffy bags and posting them. It does cost money to make an album, but the fans who have bought this record have already paid for it three times over.

Do you have live shows lined up to promote the album?

Yes, I’m playing at The Betsy, Trotwood in London in April. It’s a little late to call it a launch gig, but it will be with a full band, and because we have to rehearse as a full band, I’m going to get some other gigs.

Do you listen back to the early Starry Eyed and Laughing albums

Not the albums we did in the 70s. And even the last album, BELLS OF LIGHTNING, that we did, I haven’t listened to in a while, I will have to listen to it because we will do some songs from it at the live shows. I am planning to make a new Starry Eyed and Laughing record, hopefully this year. I’ve also already been asked if I’ll do a follow-up to FAITH IN US. I might be like David Crosby; he took forty-seven years to record his second album and then made four records in the last few years of his life.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Natalie Del Carmen Interview

One of a growing number of young women making waves in the Americana genre, Natalie Del Carmen may be a city dweller, but her songwriting drills into real-life concepts and personal angst that exist in both urban and rural settings. Her latest album, PASTURES, is a collection of thought-provoking songs from the perspective of a young woman finding her way in an often-gruelling modern world. ‘I am Gen Z, and the album is written in a very Gen Z way, and it reflects what we are experiencing right now,’ she confessed to Lonesome Highway when we spoke to Natalie via Zoom earlier in the week.

A bachelor’s degree from Berklee College of Music, numerous singles, two albums and an EP released by the age of twenty-four. That is an impressive portfolio.

Starting out, I just knew I wanted to take music seriously. I realise that nowadays, with streaming and people having shorter attention spans, I thought it was important to keep putting out new music.

What was the Berklee College experience like for you?

I got lucky and found a really good group of friends there early on. I loved my days being music-centred, and at the time, it was important to me that I got a bachelor’s degree. I learned a lot there, and because of that, putting out music in my early twenties was easier because I felt educated as to where the industry was moving. You don’t have to go to music school to make it in this industry at all, but I do think that at Berklee, they give you the right tools. I specialised in songwriting there.

Did that chapter convince you that roots music was your preferred direction.

I did feel that the emphasis for women was pop music because it’s a very specific structure to teach and understand why a particular song is a hit. I learned those things but also realised that I loved country and Americana music, and the songs that I brought to class always leaned that way. People would tell me that I liked storytelling songs more than pop songs, which I took to heart and realised during college that it was what I wanted to do.

What defines country music for you?

It’s a very wide umbrella for me with many sub-parts of country music. There is the pop country that gets a lot of radio play, but I like country that leans towards traditional these days. Emily Scott Robinson and Zac Top are doing amazing things in country music. Then there are folks like me, singer-songwriters that I call ‘accessible country’ which can also appeal to people who typically don’t love the sonic parts of country but like the storytelling being there, which I think is the basics of country.

What current country artists impress you?

People I share my label with, like Braxton Keith, a super young guy who I think is great, and I love Gabe Lee. Emily Scott Robinson and Zac Top, who I mentioned before, and also Emily Ann Roberts. They are all my favourite artists right now.

PASTURES, the title of your new album, implies open spaces. Was that in your thought process when naming the record?

Yes, I wrote the final song on the record, Pressure In The Pastures, about how a pasture can be a very open and freeing thing, but in your early twenties, you realise that your life can go anywhere, and there is a lot of pressure to pick one path. Some people will tell you to do multiple things because it’s probably the only time in your life that you can do anything you want. For me, at my age, I viewed a pasture as more scary than freeing. I didn’t know where I was going, what I wanted to live up to and in society, people put a lot of pressure on you to accomplish things very quickly.

For me, the record is looking at the world through the eyes of your generation.

For sure. I am Gen Z, and the album is written in a very Gen Z way, and it reflects what we are experiencing right now. But I also hope that it can be universal enough for older people who may think, ‘My twenties were also a mess, and I also hated them.’

It’s less pop orientated and country than your debut album, BLOODLINE.

With BLOODLINE, I was between eighteen and nineteen when I wrote a lot of those songs and didn’t know what I wanted to do then. I envy artists who are very strategic about what they put out. I can’t say that about me. I love the BLOODLINE album, but it was a continuation of what I was exploring at that time. It was very pop but also getting into the Americana singer songwriter thing, and it’s funny looking back at that time when I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do going forward.

You released a number of singles over the past eighteen months prior to the album release. Did the feedback to the singles give you confidence and positivity?

Yes. I released Good Morning From Magnolia, which was one of the first singles, and the feedback I was getting was that ‘This sounds like you.’ That was really affirming because at the time, everything we were working on for the album sounded quite like that single.

There is lots of fiddle, mandolin and banjo on the album. I believe that you inherited a banjo from your grandfather.

I always wanted to play banjo, and one day, my grandfather, who had a banjo dating back to the early 1920s, felt that I should play it. It needs to be refurbished, but I refuse to do that because I want to keep it in the condition that it was created and not alter it in any way. I need to get a new banjo to keep playing it.

You tapped into Brunjo, a collective of friends you studied with at Berklee to produce the album and contribute the instrumentation alongside your own playing.

I certainly got what I needed from Berklee because I met those three people, which I think, in a way, was meant to be. They have worked on everything that I have put out so far. Their studio is in Kingston Springs, just outside of Nashville.

The song Plans Abot Plans suggests breaking free. Is that from personal experience?

Yes, I do have control problems and am very much Type A and like to live my life in a very tight way. That works when you are in school from five years old to twenty-one, when your life leads a very specific path. If you do something well, you get graded immediately, and you feel good about it. Then you leave college, and you realise that life does not work like that; you can achieve things, and nobody might care. That was shocking for me to have been in a system which had been very well constructed for me, but to then find out that life isn’t really like that. I wrote about that in Plans Upon Plans.

Your father can take credit for the story behind the song El Cortez.

Yes, we spent Christmas in Las Vegas and gambled together for the first time. We lived pretty close to Vegas but had never done the Vegas experience, and my dad gave me twenty dollars for the Wheel of Fortune, and I didn’t do half bad. I was in the car on the way home and thought about how people can feel rich in life without the involvement of money. I wrote the song about the rich experience with my dad that really had nothing to do with the money.

Should I get a sense of regret in the song What Should Have Been (By Now)?

There is regret, but also bittersweetness, and the true heart of that song is that you could have gone x,y or z path, but for some reason you did not, and you have to accept that. At college, I had these big plans that I was going to graduate early and move to Nashville to start a whole new life. I met my partner of four and a half years, and that went completely out the window. At the time, for me, that went completely against the grain not to put myself first, but thankfully, I moved back to Los Angeles, where there is stability for me and family support that I would not have had in Nashville. So, all the paths I could have taken ended up in the right one, which is what What Should Have Been (By Now) is about.

Is there a healthy scene in Los Angeles for you to perform?

There are quite a few collectives that have come together to do songwriter nights, and I have done Hotel Café a few times; they are moving out of Hollywood. I love that venue, they do Americana and country and a lot of singer-songwriters, especially young women my age.

You have also recently been performing in Nashville.

Yes, I was in Nashville a few weeks ago and did a show at The Bluebird Café and played at The Basement for the first time. I also performed at the 3rd & Lindsley with Sophie Gault, who is on the same label as me. I love her music; it’s very specific to her. I love artists like her who have a vision.

You have already achieved a lot at an early age. Have set goals for yourself going forward?

Of course, I have dreams of things I’d like to achieve if the industry allows me. I’m already writing for the next record and starting to record new things as well because this record, PASTURES, was finished this time last year and took a while to put out.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Pete Fields (Slow Motion Cowboys) Interview

New Orleans may be the ‘jazz mecca’ of the United States, but an underground roots scene, sparked by bands like Hurrah For The Riff Raff and drawn by the city’s bohemian atmosphere, has steadily grown over the last decade. Pete Fields’ Slow Motion Cowboy typifies an artist lured to New Orleans to further his sound, which began in San Francisco and paused in New Mexico. Their latest album, WOLVES OF ST.ELMO, is a marvellous left-of-centre country record shaped by Fields’ time in the Bay Area, the desert, and his current home, The Crescent City. Pete spoke with us recently about his career journey and discovering the optimum environment in New Orleans to further grow his art.

What drew you to music, and in particular country music?

I was raised around a lot of blues and country music. I was born in San Francisco, but I also have family in Texas, and I would go to Austin when I was a kid and was exposed to Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and to Bob Dylan, as my uncle is a big Dylan fan. My dad lived in Alabama with my brothers before I was born, and both my parents were folkies, very political too and often referred to music. Music in my family was very open; I was always encouraged by my parents. My mom would teach me Yorkshire folk songs and old-time music as a kid. My uncle Pete played guitar and was a DJ, and he used to go to shows to see The Minutemen, The Meat Puppets and The Dead Kennedys. I also grew up in the Mission District, where there were a lot of Mariachi guys around that would come to your table, play you a song, and sell you a rose. When I moved to Washington State, I started playing old-time and bluegrass music there and learning about the tradition of that music from players up there.

Were you into San Francisco music at that time?

The Grateful Dead and a lot of that San Francisco clichéd music were uncool to me and took a long time for me to come around to it. I think the idea of folk music and its expression, and trying to find something that is yours, played a part for me.

When did Pete the listener and student become Pete the songwriter?

I didn’t know any songwriters growing up; to me, it was always about guitar players, Jimi Hendrix, Cream, and Neil Young. I always wanted to be in a band and shred guitar. I’m a big guy and was never a very subtle performer. I only started to find my angle when I began writing, and people who I admired were attracted to the songs. I had access to a lot of musicians and record collectors, and once I started contributing songs in my music circle, luckily, people started responding to that. That gave me an ‘in’ really from the first songs that I wrote. From there, it led to a high school band, and with the band Trainwreck Riders, we still play a lot of those songs in San Francisco.

What brought you to New Mexico before moving to New Orleans?

It sounds clichéd, but I needed to go to the desert. I went to Las Cruces, New Mexico, on my first tour, and that became our community outside the Bay Area, and that is where I met songwriters. If you meet a guy at the gas station in New Mexico, he will melt you with a song her wrote. There are dramatists, poets, musicians and a lot of old-time border music there, and anytime if I wasn’t doing well, I would just go out there. I needed a real change in my life and to put myself in a position to grow and push the band, instead of waiting for it to come to me, so I moved to Los Cruces, New Mexico, where there is a tradition of sitting around a fire and playing songs. I put myself in a position to be around people who were receptive, and that forced me to write, really dig in and push myself. It’s also a good jump-off spot for tours in Texas and the southeast. When I was living there, I got signed to Arkam Records in Muscle Shoals, which was encouraging, and we would play all the little towns through New Mexico in what I called ‘the enchilada circuit.’

Who were the Slow Motion Cowboys band members at that time?

My bass player, Shawn Wyman, has been there throughout, but Slow Motion Cowboys is like, Pete and The Slow Motion Cowboys, who can I find to elevate my songs? I’m a city kid, but I always wanted to learn about music and teach myself the traditions, a lot of which were lost. I’ve always tried to write songs that pickers can respond to.

You are settled in New Orleans now. Is there a big roots / country music scene there?

I wouldn’t say it is a very big scene, but what is special about it is that it attracts people with certain values and ethics. The core value is punk rock across the board, and bands that came before me, like The Deslondes and Hurray For The Riff Raff, whom I was obsessed with, established a scene in New Orleans. They both stayed after Hurricane Katrina and created a new music scene that was valued by the city, and I see those folks as paving the way for what I can do. There are folks two-stepping here now, there are punks and guys with cowboy hats. There is such a tradition of jazz in New Orleans that what we and others are doing still feels very new and an underground feel, but at the same time, the values here, there are great record stores and access to WWOZ Radio, which is an amazing radio station. New Orleans is a perfect place, and it’s not stagnant and still creating new music and birthing rhythms and scenes, and not just the trad jazz.

Like a melting pot, the new album, WOLVES OF ST.ELMO taps into the sounds of San Francisco, New Mexico and New Orleans. It’s very much a ‘full band’ project.

Before I moved to New Orleans I would drive there, buy records, go to see live music and drive back to New Mexico. By the time I arrived here my friend Shawn was already living here, I was well set up, I had a community, I had a band, and I had matured a little bit.  I had toured with a buddy, Langhorne Slim, when we were both in our twenties, and my album BUZZARD SONGS was recorded with his rhythm section. When I was touring with Trainwreck Riders, playing heavy music, he would encourage me to play other styles that I really wanted to do but never really had the confidence to do. That was what got Arkam Records involved, but I really tried to strip down my sound with my album SUN BURNT FEATHER and got a lot of my chest with that record. So, when I came to New Orleans, I wanted to put more outside influences in my music instead of inside, where it’s only a mic in a room and me. I had access to Alex (Pianovich) on piano, my bass player Shawn and Will McMains on drums and it became a more external record, telling stories.

There are a lot of contributors on the album. Did it take long to complete the recording?

It took about three or four years to complete because we had the pandemic, and I also put out a digital acoustic record of New Mexico songs; I felt that I had cleaned out the closet before finishing this record. I didn’t rush it and took my time. Any time I could, I would go into a nice studio, five minutes from my house, explore sounds and add piano and mandolin, send it to Nashville for Paul Defiglia to put organ on it. I also started playing with Alex, Greazy Alice, and others to try to develop a bigger sound.

Tell me about the connection with Margo Cilker, an artist much admired by us at Lonesome Highway?

I’ve known Margo for a long time; she’s part of my musical family, and she’s covered a few of our songs. She started playing some of my songs at her shows and calling me out as the writer of the songs. With her covering my song Invisible Stars and Uncut magazine reviewing THE WOLF OF ST.ELMO and the groundwork that I had already put down, it has all been working out for me.

There is a lot of love, torn relationships, and survival in your writing. Is that autobiographical or fictional?

Biographical, definitely. My past albums were ‘I feel this way’ records, though I tried to do everything differently with this record, and I think there is more hope with this one, even though the internal melancholy is still there. That is how I process the world and always have. I was fifteen when I went to Texas, my dad had just passed away, and it was a hard time. But it also exposed me to a blueprint of how to express myself, and with Slow Motion Cowboy, I look at myself and don’t shy away from the fact that I don’t know how to write a happy song, but I think I do know how to write a hopeful song.

The song Catch & Release is particularly melancholic and sounds like it was an outtake from Neil Young’s TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT.

You nailed that. I appreciate you saying that. That is my favourite Neil Young record, and I’m ‘Neil Young obsessed.’

The title track, which closes the album, has a border feel and dreamlike quality. What is the backstory to it?

It’s a very specific song, and it’s supposed to be almost like a movie. I often feel most comfortable in the most chaotic and extreme place. I’m most happy in Bisbee, Arizona, which is a beautiful town of outlaws and bikers, and there is a really rowdy biker bar there called St. Elmo’s Bar. Every time I go there, I sit at that bar, and there is this little lady who weighs probably ninety pounds who brings two wolves to the bar, not full wolves but big mixed-breed dogs. The whisky is flowing, and these two dogs are staring at me like they’re ready to bite me any minute.  There is the uncertainty with things that are wild, and I’m caught between being comfortable in my skin and being in an unknown and dangerous place. I use colour in that song a lot. My wife is a costume designer and talks about how red on stage represents lust or jealousy, and so I wanted to use red in the song. I often feel most comfortable in the most chaotic and extreme place. When I was writing that song, I was thinking if I just dreamed that scene with the wolves. I went back to play that bar on the record release tour, and I said from the stage that I had a lot of drinks in this bar one night, but were there wolves in this bar? The reply was ‘Yes, that’s Ally, she lives down the street, she drinks here with her wolves.

Dobro and slide guitar are very much part of your core sound.

It is. When Slow Motion Cowboys first started, I played with a guy called Cayenne Dan, who is a dobro player, and mentored me. He played tunings that I had never heard before, introduced me to old-time slide and Hawaiian players, and made me use my voice to relate to the slide.  New Orleans rhythm alongside slide guitar is the formula of Slow Motion Cowboys.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Kelsey Waldon Interview

As you enter Monkey’s Eyebrow (population 290), Ballard County, Kentucky, a sign greets you ‘MONKEY’S EYEBROW HOME OF KELSEY WALDON.’ The county has honoured Kelsey's achievements alongside Kentucky legends like Loretta Lynn, Bill Monroe, and Tom T. Hall. Signed to John Prine’s OH BOY record label in 2019, Kelsey released her sixth album, EVERY GHOST, in 2025. Over the past six years, she has played solo shows in Ireland. Now, on January 20th, she brings her acclaimed touring band, The Muleskinners, to Dublin's Whelan’s for a much-anticipated performance. We spoke with Kelsey just before she finished packing for her three-week European tour.

Do you recall your first visit to play Dublin in 2020?

Yes, and that feels like a lifetime ago, it was my very first tour overseas and just before the shit hit the fan with Covid. That whole tour feels crazy now, we hit it hard, we were over that side for a month, it was a solo tour, and I was there with my tour manager at the time, Clara Sue Bailey.  I think this will be my fifth time over to Europe, I was over there on the OH Boy tour last time. I’m bringing my band this time so It’s going to be a much more functioning system this time.

High points and low points of 2025 for you?

Lots of high points and a few personal low points, like some heartbreaking stuff that went down with my dad’s health and life happenings like that. I was putting my energy into recording and releasing my EVERY GHOST album at the same time. I hadn’t been off the road for nearly three years and didn’t have a lot of time to breath, which was also very therapeutic, being out on the road with my band and friends. I was just happy to have some free time at the end of last year and I hope I can take some time off this spring because I’m touring up until the end of February. That’s life for me and everything has gotten better every single year, and I have gratitude for that, but I know you can experience joy, grief and anger all at the same time.

EVERY GHOST, like all your albums, appears to be written very much in the present, like an update, and often extremely personal, of your state of mind at that time.

I think so. Sometimes I listen back to my older records and hardly recognise myself in them. It has been a journey and a process and even getting to this point in my career and the experience I’ve gained on the road has defined what I really wanted in my career. We still play some of those older songs from NO REGULAR DOG and the other records and they have, like me, also evolved. They also take on a new meaning for me, I think some have them have matured so much and even mean a bit more to me now.

Your new album plays out as a Kelsey Waldon and The Muleskinners album, given that you recorded with your touring band and the quality of their input is immense.

For sure, we worked really hard to find the tones we wanted and used some nerdy gear when we recorded the songs through an old console in Memphis.  Even down to the drums, where I wanted to get the sound of some of my favourite country records from back in 1978. I don’t think the record is throwback by any means, but I just wanted to get the vibe I like and give it a fresh voice. With this band and recording we really had a musical moment and every bit of the way along the recording was inspiring.

You co-produced with Justin Francis for this album having worked with Shooter Jennings on NO REGULAR DOG.

It was so much fun working with Shooter and I’m sure I’ll do it again. Justin is also my partner in life so it’s a lot more special and clearly more intimate because we know each other so well and listen to a lot of music together and discuss what is so special about all the music that I love. Justin helps me with the technical things, I might have the sound I want in my head, but he knows the science behind getting the tones I want. It’s the way that Waylon and Tom T Hall and others had done it, keeping it in the family. I also felt that I was making a record in a safe environment and we got to do exactly what we wanted to do.

You recorded the album in Memphis for the first time. Was that to move away from your comfort zone in Nashville?

It was also good to record in a different place that wasn’t Nashville or Los Angeles. Memphis still has got that soul vibe as well as country grit and it felt good to record there. I had recorded my last record THERE’S ALWAYS A SONG with Jusin at Creative Workshop in Nashville, where Townes Van Zandt and so many amazing records were recorded. The environment is very important to me and so many of my favourite records have been made in Memphis. We recorded in our friend Matt Ross Spang’s studio that he built out in Memphis. We played it and recorded the record mostly live using all the vintage gear in the studio.

I love that you sing with your distinctive Kentucky accent, unapologetically without any effort to disguise it.

I don’t know how else to sing. Honestly, when I started writing songs, I didn’t think that I was much of a singer, but eventually I thought that I could sing a little bit. I’m definitely proud of my Kentucky heritage, that never leaves you. Though when I go overseas people ask me if I’m from Ireland, it must be those Kentucky ‘R’s.’ For me, basically, Ireland is Kentucky, there are so many ties.

You are one of the more recent artists from Kentucky, alongside Sturgill Simpson, SG Goodman, Tyler Childers and Brit Taylor, to continue the legacy of Loretta Lynn, Tom T Hall, Keith Whitley, Merle Travis and Crystal Gayle to name but a few.

Music and culture runs so deep in our State. I’m friends with all those people, there is a strong camaraderie between Kentucky people, it’s really special. I love Brit and in the past Sturgill have been hugely supportive of me, especially when I first started. East, West and Central Kentucky, there is so much deep cultural history and in particular with country, bluegrass and old-time music. My fiddle player Blakeley Burger in The Muleskinners is a deep Kentucky fiddler. The State reminds me so much of Ireland, on one of my visits to Ireland I went to a couple of the pubs where everybody was picking and singing old traditional songs. It brought a tear to my eye, it reminded me so much of Kentucky mountain music.

Whenever we feature your music on our radio show we always introduce you as Kelsey Waldon from Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky. It’s such cool and romantic name for a small town.

It’s silly but that has stuck with me, and it seems a lot of people only know one person from Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky.

Entering the town is a signpost reading ‘Monkey’s Eyebrow, Home of Kelsey Waldon’ which you must be proud of.

Yes, that sign is still there. It’s a super small community there and the county put that sign up. I’m obviously not that famous but I have my fan base and people have come from different places to Monkey’s Eyebrow, and people in the town notice that. It’s cool because I grew up seeing Merle Travis and other names on signboards on the Kentucky highway so I was honoured to get my sign.

A decade and a half into your career, are things getting easier or harder?

It’s hard to say. The last decade I’ve been building my career and went through Covid when none of us could tour and knew what was going on. That was two or three years and we lost John Prine during that time. I feel like I’m only really getting started in a lot of ways post Covid and it has got better for me every single year since then. We’ve had a lot of shows over the last few years especially last year opening up for Charley Crockett on tour where a lot of people, who’d never heard of me, got to see me play for the first time. It is hard at every level, ticket sales are hard because a lot of people don’t have much money, and there’s a lot going on in the world right now. It has got easier for me and is getting better all the time, but I just couldn’t imagine starting a band right now from scratch.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Brinsley Schwarz Interview

The precursor to the mid-'70s explosive punk and new wave scene in the U.K., ‘Pub Rock,’ as the music press christened it, offered punters an alternative to the overblown prog scene or the flamboyant glam rock in the early 1970s. Securing a weekly residency at the Tally Ho in Kentish Town, American band Eggs Over Easy were the torchbearers of live roots music until their visas expired and they had to return home. Following in their footsteps were numerous U.K. bands, with Brinsley Schwarz the first to grasp the opportunity to deliver their roots-based music to pub masses equally eager to revel in live accessible music. Other U.K. bands that played the circuit were The Count Bishops, Ducks Deluxe, and Eddie and The Hot Rods. Cutting their teeth in London pubs before moving on to the larger venues were Dr Feelgood and Ian Dury, the latter tested the waters with his band Kilburn & The High Roads before morphing into the hugely successful Ian Dury & The Blockheads. The most prolific band at that time, recording-wise, was Brinsley Schwarz, who released six albums between 1970 and 1974 before disbanding in 1975. Schwarz and Bob Andrews both joined Graham Parker and The Rumour, recording and touring until 1981 when Parker pulled the plug on the band. They also both hooked up with Parker for a reunited Graham Parker and The Rumour in 2012. Schwarz also enjoyed a parallel career as a luthier before his writing, playing and recording mojo was reignited in more recent years, resulting in three solo albums, the latest SHOUTING AT THE MOON being released on the Fretsore Records label recently.

You cut your teeth as a band playing in the Pub Rock scene in the early 1970s.

Yes, up to that, there wasn’t really anyone playing in pubs. In fact, there wasn’t much music in pubs except for maybe a piano in the corner or some light jazz on the weekends. We stumbled into playing in pubs, and it came as a big surprise how much fun it was compared to what we had been used to before. There wasn’t very much going on at that time; you played in colleges and had to contribute to the PA if there was a main band on after you. It wasn’t particularly exciting, so finding a place where we could play what we wanted to play was great and, to a degree, saved the band from breaking up. 

The American band, Eggs Over Easy, were the trailblazers for that scene when they secured a residency at The Tally Ho in Kentish Town.

Yes. Our manager, Dave Robinson, and our bass player, Nick Lowe, were out one evening and stumbled into The Tally Ho and saw them play. They came back to our house and said, ‘You really need to see this, it’s the answer.' We went down the next time, and they were playing the kind of music we played, which was known then as roots music, but maybe not as aggressively as we did.

How was the band formed initially?

Nick (Lowe) went to the same school as me. We got Bob (Andrews) from an advert in Melody Maker; there weren’t too many people playing organ like him at that time. Billy (Rankin) lived close to me in Southeast England; he was the only rock-and-roll drummer in the area. There wasn’t any magic about the band; it just came together.

You were booked to support Van Morrison at New York’s Fillmore East in 1970. Was that a case of ‘too much, too soon’ for the band?

It may have been. We had known one way or another that we still had a lot to learn, but after that trip and supporting Van Morrison, who was seriously good in all kinds of ways, that kicked in. We played four shows with him, which was a real lesson. When we got home, the desire to be better kept us together, so we rented a large ten-bedroom house, built a rehearsal room in it and played for ten to twelve hours every day, playing anything, we wanted. We loved it.

That resulted in six albums over four years, a phenomenal output.

We didn’t have anything else to do, really, and were working hard. We had two or three people who could write songs, Nick, Bob and me, and we could all sing, so we were always going to make records once we could afford it, and in those days, you could afford to record records, unlike today, where my latest record has cost a lot of money to record. 

Of those albums, which one particularly stands out for you?

NERVOUS ON THE ROAD would be my favourite album, and possibly PLEASE DON’T EVER CHANGE also.

The label ‘Pub Rock’ wasn’t a fair reflection of the quality of the bands playing that circuit at that time.

I don’t call what we were doing pub rock. The definition of pub rock is ‘music that bands play in pubs.’We stopped playing pubs in 1973. The press, without railing against them, called what we were playing ‘pub rock’ and we didn’t like that label, or any label in fact. The day that we read in The Melody Maker that ‘Pub Rock was here,’ we left that scene. We were starting to get into soul and R’n’B, which in those days was becoming a bit more musical and grown-up.

Bob Andrews and you went on to be members of Graham Parker and The Rumour.

Graham Parker and The Rumour was quite democratic as a band with simple rules; there was never a leader as such. We had simple rules, three great vocalists in the band, I wasn’t a particularly great singer at the time. But eventually the cost of keeping Graham Parker and The Rumour together had got out of hand. We had made two albums as Graham Parker and The Rumour, and one album when Graham packed it in. The four of us, me, Steve (Goulding), Andrew (Bodnar), and Martin (Belmont), carried on as a band and toured with Carlene Carter, made an album and did some touring ourselves before it fizzled out.

You then effectively retired from performing to pursue another career.

I had already done a bit of work at a guitar store in Richmond; they agreed to let me work there repairing guitars and be a member of staff, while allowing me to go on tour or record as well. It was a loose arrangement, but I spent about twenty-five years repairing guitars, which I loved doing. I loved guitars right from the beginning when I first heard Hank Marvin and The Shadows. As well as playing in a band, repairing guitars was the next best thing for me.

That also kept you in touch indirectly with the music industry.

It did, and we also had an American agent and manager when Graham Parker and The Rumour were touring in America, with whom I got on well. I was looking for work in America, and he contacted me to say he had bought an old loft in New York and wanted it converted into a suite of offices. I told him that I could do that, and he offered to put me up and supply me with two guys to do the heavy lifting and help. It took me eight and a half weeks to put it all together. Nothing to do with music or bands, but one of the greatest satisfactions in my life followed. Rodents tended to eat through the plastic lining on the wiring, exposing the copper wiring and leading to numerous fires in New York. We did all the electrical wiring to English standards; I had done that before working with my dad as a kid. The Chief Officer of the New York Fire Service came to inspect the work to certify it and asked who did the work. When I confessed to having carried out the work, he complimented, ‘You guys in England have high standards; this is as good as I’ve seen in my forty years of inspections.’

Did you look for work as a musician in New York at that time?

Well, I also had an interview and rehearsal with a band in New York that was amusing. I read an advert in one of the local music papers that read ‘Wanted guitar player, must be into Brinsley Schwarz.’ I called them up, and they asked for my name, to which I replied, Pete. I went to the interview the next day, and they recognised me, fell about laughing, but thought I shouldn’t be in their band.

What was the catalyst that kick-started your performing career once more?

Working at the guitar store, I was around guitar players all the time, all kinds, good and not so good, kids and learners. It rubs off on you, and that got me back into playing. My family and I had moved house down to the south coast of England, and I was working in the house, doing it up and decorating. I had just come home with a load of Ikea bedroom and kitchen cabinets. I managed to get them all into the house and was completely stressed out when the phone rang. It was Graham (Parker) phoning me to tell me that the band was reforming, making a film or a documentary, and that everyone else was on board except me. He knew that I didn’t like flying, but that they would all love to have me back in the band. So, despite my fear of flying, I heard myself immediately saying, ‘I’m in.’ The prospect of being in the band again and going to America to make a movie did it for me, and I got over ten years of fearing to fly.

Since then, you have recovered your mojo for writing, resulting in three albums: THE UNEXPECTED (2016), TANGLED (2021) and your recently released record, SHOUTING AT THE MOON.

Well, I have a workshop at the end of the garden where I repair things, and when TWO AGAINST NATURE, the Steely Dan album, came out, I was hooked. I’d always been a fan of theirs, but when I got that album, I couldn’t listen to anything else for months. I was zoned entirely into it. I was driving around one day when a lyric came to mind, and to my surprise, I started writing a song. Before I knew it, I had written ten songs and couldn’t stop writing. It all just happened without rhyme or reason, and as I had played so many guitar styles in the shop, things musically also seemed to open up for me again.

The Steely Dan influence comes across on the breezy song Nothing Is What It Seems from the new album and Falling Over Backwards has that Van Morrison soul and blues to it. You also include a Graham Parker cover on the album.

Yes, Watch The Moon Come Down, my favourite of Graham’s songs. I also covered another favourite of his songs, Love Gets You Twisted, on my last album, TANGLED.

You hooked up with producer and multi-instrumentalist James Hallawell to work with you on the albums.

James played with Graham Parker and me when we were recording Graham’s album MONA LISA’S SISTER. He then came to the Graham Parker and The Rumour reunion gig in Shepherd’s Bush. We had a chat backstage, and he invited me down to his studio. I had a song called Seal It With A Kiss that was a wedding gift for my niece-in-law, and I wanted to record it. They subsequently played it at the wedding. When I was recording at James’ studio, I played a few other songs, we recorded backing tracks for three or four others, and I had the material for an EP. It then ended up with enough songs for my first solo album, THE UNEXPECTED, and eventually, as we had enough songs, we made TANGLED. Because I was writing so much, I then started working on the new record, SHOUTING AT THE MOON. I still have enough songs for another album, if only people would buy physical records, artists would have enough money to make records.

Interview by Declan Culliton

SHOUTING AT THE MOON is available at https://www.fretsorerecords.com/brinsley-schwarz/

Chris Eckman Interview

Founding member of Seattle band, The Walkabouts, songwriter, musician, producer and founding member of Glitterbeat record label, Chris Eckman’s latest solo album, THE LAND WE KNEW THE BEST, is arguably his most celebrated work to date in a career spanning four decades. As was the case with his 2021 record WHERE THE SPIRIT LIES, rather than self-produce, Eckman delegated the duties to Alistair McNeill, who crafted a sonic landscape that fully supported and enhanced Eckman’s haunting and often brutally confessional lyrics. With a heavy workload as label manager, producer, songwriter and recording artist, Eckman’s enthusiasm remains unabated. ‘I've always been extremely grateful and very happy to have spent a life around music, whether it's my own or someone else's,’ he tells Lonesome Highway.

Moving to Slovenia and establishing the Glitterbeat record label in 2012 was a brave move. What was your vision for the label?

We started it as a modest experiment. I had been travelling in West Africa and had gone back to Maili several times, meeting some artists there. At first, it was more of an educational experience for me; I felt a bit burned out by what I had been listening to and wanted a different perspective on music. It succeeded at that but eventually became something I was involved in at the production level. After I had produced a couple of records, I was licensing them to other labels and a friend of mine, who at that point owned a label called Glitterhouse, suggested we start a side label to handle these records. We started with three or four records, and now, thirteen years in, we've done one hundred and eighty records and are still moving forward.

Did the move effectively spell the end of the road for the Walkabouts, and was that regrettable?

I think we were at a turning point. I'm not sure it was the death knell for the Walkabouts, but it was a contributing factor, that's for sure. What became clear to me was that I would have less spare time to maintain the band, which was a bit out of reach. I think if the Walkabouts had been a multi-songwriter band, and there were other people who were contributing material, it’s highly conceivable that we could have continued. But that aspect of it just really rested on my shoulders. So, I was just very honest with everybody and just said, I think we're at a turning point here. Yeah, there was a lot of regret about that, but we had also been doing it for a long time. And I think maybe what was even more important is that the record we had released in 2011, TRAVELS IN THE DUSTLAND, and the touring that we did on the continent of Europe, had gotten lots of sold-out shows. And I felt like, well, this would be a good time to stop, too.

Did you feel that The Walkabouts were underappreciated in America, given how Europe embraced the band?

I guess there was an element of that. I tried to keep the bitterness out of it because we had so many arms opened to us, and we worked hard to get that. But on the other hand, the level of success we achieved in, let's say, Germany or Holland and Belgium, and places like that, was kind of beyond what we ever expected to do anywhere. So, what we had done was quite satisfying. And I did think about it sometimes, but for the most part, I just said, ‘You know, you go where people want to hear you.’ And there was always an element in America that we were well received by, and we had a pocket of a fan base.  The problem with America is it's just so damn large; it's really hard to connect all those disparate dots.

You were also competing with an enormous grunge scene in America at that time.

That was it, too. We were fighting a very big tsunami, yeah.

Since the move to Slovenia, how has the environment that you live in there influenced your songwriting?

I don't know. It's something I don't give a lot of thought to, but it probably has had some effect. What has happened with my writing and just making music, because I run the label, it's ended up being something I just do. I wouldn’t say it is a part-time thing; it still applies to the centre of my identity, but I have less, let's say, available time to do it. So, I've accepted that I will be less prolific, which is fine. And what I think has also happened to me in the last five or six years is that I've really realised that I do live here. It's not just a place that I have a flat, I’ve developed a life here that sustains itself, something that's important to me, emotionally, spiritually, at all levels. So, I think that starts to change my writing to some degree. A lot of things came together with that. I really reacquainted myself with nature and hiking and walking, something I had previously done a lot in my life. But then there was a period when I wandered away from that, and in the last few years, it's focused me. Descriptions of the natural world were also always important to my songwriting. But I think it's become even more rooted in what I'm doing now.

That also comes across strongly in the artwork for your recent record, THE LAND WE KNEW BEST and in WHERE THE SPIRIT LIES from 2021. How important is the artwork as part of a complete package with those albums?

It's very important. The photos on the record covers and inside the records are all photos I took myself. That's another element of what I'm doing now, I can imagine these songs visually. I also look for photos that I took that help narrate that.

There are obvious comparisons for me with both albums, though THE LAND WE KNEW BEST has a fuller sound to it. Did COVID and the lockdown influence the writing and the somewhat stripped-down feel to WHERE THE SPIRIT LIES?

At this point, there are tens of thousands of COVID records, and, yes, WHERE THE SPIRIT LIES, it is one of these. It was a record not just recorded during that period but also written during a period, when I had, let's say, some personal upheavals and I was suddenly living on my own. I had wandered away from playing the guitar as frequently as I would have wanted to, and there was suddenly a large amount of time available. And I took advantage of that quite tentatively at first. In fact, I played the first three or four of those songs to a very good friend. After we got out of lockdown, they seemed a little bit different to me, but I was happy with them, even if I didn’t ever release them. And my friend said, ‘You're crazy, you've got to release them.’ I had this flush of nervousness, because I think the songs felt probably more personal than a lot of things that I've written, more deeply personal, because you're not necessarily always the narrator when you write. These songs became more of a narrative thing for me.

CTFD, the final track on WHERE THE SPIRIT RESTS, has me hitting the replay button every time. Tell me about that song?

I wanted to put that song last because it's less dark than some of the other songs on that record. In fact, that record really moves from darkness to light, without getting too grandiose with the metaphor. The darkest track is the first one, Early Snow. CTFD, it's about slowly coming to terms with new realities in one's life and new love and things like that. It’s about like trusting somebody again, the person that whispers in your ear and says, ‘calm the fuck down,’ and instead of rebelling, you actually listen to that. Because that can sometimes be the best advice.

Rather than self-produce that album and the new one, THE LAND WE KNEW BEST, you handed control over to Alastair McNeil. Was your intention to gain another sonic insight, and did you give him complete control?

Yes, to those questions. Basically, I knew Alistair, who also lives in Ljubljana. In similar circumstances to mine, he came here because he had a relationship that also dissolved for him, but he stayed here. He started in rock bands in the 90s, but he studied things like sonic arts and experimental music, and I knew him from the very small scene of that here in Ljubljana.  I knew he had a really cool, but also very cosy, small studio. And, you know, on one hand, I was thinking I can relinquish control in a way and allow somebody to bring some different ideas to what I do. And it felt very, very liberating to me, also not to have to do the faders and mix it myself and struggle with all of that. There was enough going on in my life at that point in time. It really worked well the first time with WHERE THE SPIRIT RESTS, which was a really strange experience. His studio was less than a mile away from my flat, but after the original recordings, we went back into lockdown here in Slovenia. So, it was all mixed by him, just sending files back and forth, which is something I've done in the past, but usually with people who are a thousand miles away, not somebody who's only a mile away. It was a really good experience, and I also knew that the next record should have some differences to it, and I said to Alistair ‘Let's expand the palette. It doesn't have to be as austere; let's open the windows in the room a little bit. But other than that, I left a lot of it in his hands.

The album title THE LAND WE KNEW BEST is taken from a line in the opening track, Genevieve. Is that a reference to a location or a shared mindset?

I think it was both. I was talking about relationships; they don’t exist in a vacuum. Relationships also have context. One context is the land, the landscape, the physical place that people live. But the lyrics twist a little bit, because it's not really the land we knew best; it’s actually referring to the heart. There is the line that says, ‘The heart, the land we knew the best.’  So, it wasn't just this physical land that we knew best, but this landscape at the heart of the relationship itself.

You close the album with Last Train Home, which plays out like a continuation of that opening track both lyrically and sonically. Was that intended in the sequencing?

Yeah, I think I knew pretty well that that was going to be the final track. I didn't always know that Genevieve would open the album. Even when I suggested that to Alistair, he thought it was a little bit radical. But again, we started the previous record with Early Snow, an odd opening song, too. So, let's continue the tradition. The sonic connection was more accidental, but these kinds of things are never purely accidental. The different songs talk to each other in different ways. And the minute we first set up the sequence, we thought it was clear how these bookends worked, but it wasn't. We weren't so smart to see that from a long distance away, we had to get our hands dirty and start moving stuff around till it actually fell into place.

The songs work very well collectively. Was that a result of them being written over a short period of time, or did you have some of them on the top shelf waiting to be used?

I wrote them in a very short period of time, four or five months. But there was a final outpouring in a couple of weeks, when I collected fragments and put them together into something that resembles what they are now. That’s the way I started writing on the previous record, also because of just downtime and complete boredom during lockdown. I was picking up the guitar, strumming for long periods, and writing kind of unformed, incoherent things, and I would record them anyway, like auto-writing. Just sing some lines and talk some lines, and a lot of what ended up on WHERE THE SPIRIT RESTS came out of those fragments, and I continued that onto this new record. There are some songs where a whole verse would just come spontaneously, with maybe one or two words changed. It wasn't all written like that, but this was always the impetus. I always started with this, and I didn't start with a blank page in a book, writing things down.

The lines ‘And then that the rage is gone and the fear is calmed’ from the song Town Lights Fade. Is that a reference to coming out of lockdown, or is it more personal than that, a kind of rejuvenation or personal rebuilding?

It's the second. It was written after my divorce was finalised, and there were more positive things happening in my life after that. It's a reflection on that and not to get bogged down in bitterness or vindictiveness, but to rebuild a life. Even if you're not a young guy, you can still do it.

Is the song Haunted Nights a distant relation to Drinking In America from the last album?

Yes, but I think Drinking in America is probably less autobiographical. It's more of a poetic construction than a narrative construction. It's a lot of fragments floating around, which come together in the chorus. Haunted Nights is more of a classic narrative song. Also, I was listening to a lot of Kris Kristofferson over the last years. I think if you’re going to steal from somebody, he’s a pretty good one to steal from.

Even back to your Walkabout days, you have been heavily influenced by artists like Kris Kristofferson and Townes Van Zandt, yet your writing and presentation are quite different.

That's the key. You can be deeply influenced by somebody, but you don't want to turn it into mimicry. What strong influences do for people is that they help open doors.  You hear something and are devastated by it because it's so damn beautiful. At the same time, you think I should never write another song after hearing that. But that dissipates once the ego takes over, as you got poked by it, and got a little bit of a shove in the right direction.

Your widespread influence was laid bare on the Walkabouts’ covers album, SATISFIED MIND, back in 1993, featuring songs written by The Carter Family, Gene Clark, John Cale, Charley Rich, Patti Smith, and more.

That was a terrifying record to make because we had never really played that slow, that quiet. It was like it was aspirational, that we could play like that, or to find out that we can. We had very little time to do it, but it was really trial by fire, and to have ghosts of all these songwriters that we love so much dancing around in it. I remember the guy who owned Glitterhouse Records at the time; he sent me a fax asking how it was going.  I stared at the fax for about three days, thinking, ‘I don't even want to answer because I don't know if this is good or if it's just the worst thing we ever tried to do.’ For me, the most enjoyable part of that album was curating it. Carla (Torgerson) and I were sitting there and listening to songs for weeks. We started with probably a couple of hundred songs and whittled them down and down. And that was just pure joy.

Do you revisit the Walkabout music these days?

It's interesting because I recently went back to them. A friend mentioned a specific Walkabouts song, so I dug out that record and listened to it. I then found myself wandering around for a few days, revisiting the albums. It's not like a painful thing for me, because I feel proud of what we did, but I've also never been a very nostalgic person. I think that that's something that has always kept me with a little bit of a tentative relationship to what I've done in the past, like you don't want to look at it too closely, you don't want to give it too deep an embrace, because you want to move forward. You want to be looking for the next thing to do.  

Your current writing style embraces sadness, despair, loss and detachment. Is that what motivates you and brings the best out of your writing?

I guess so. I think that when I was younger, I was thinking that ‘I want to write this kind of song, or that kind of song, and if I adopt this narrative technique, wouldn't that be interesting?’ At this point in my life, I’m just following my mood, or what I really feel connected to. What comes out is what matters; that's why this kind of auto-writing that I've integrated into my songwriting process is important. The thing is, it's not filtered. There are lines in these last two records that I would have never, ever put in a song before. Sometimes they're not even good lines; you think that you can write a better line than that, but I'm thinking, ‘That’s what came out.’ Sometimes that stripped back to honesty in writing is really what you want.

Record label manager, producer, songwriter, musician, and performer. Which gives you the greatest satisfaction, or is it the perfect balance for somebody with a career in the arts?

It's a good balance, although sometimes it becomes too much. But producing and running a record label really plays to this fan side of me. I've never been someone who didn't listen to other artists; that's a joy in itself for me. My old turntable just collapsed, and I got a new one last night and stayed up until almost 2 am just listening to records. It was such a joy to spend those many hours, five, six hours, listening to records. I don't get a chance to do that very often, but I've always been extremely grateful and very happy to have spent a life around music, whether it's my own or someone else's. I love advocating for other artists; the label gives me a chance to do so. Producing has given me a chance to do that. So, it plays to the different sides of my personality.

Recording-wise, do you have anything in the pipeline?

Yeah, I've got a record I'm going to do with Jana Beltram, the woman who sings on THE LAND WE KNEW THE BEST. We're going to do a dual record that we've been planning for a while. We'll record it in the spring. It'll be very simple, just a couple of duets.  I wrote a couple of songs for it, and she has a couple, and we'll do a few covers. What I don't want to do is spend five years not making a record. I’ve really got into making records again, and so I'm going to keep it going.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Chris Eckman will perform at Kilkenny Roots Festival in May 2026 https://kilkennyroots.com

Paul Burch Interview

Paul Burch is something of a creative powerhouse with more than twelve album releases under his own name and others with such like-minded bands as The Waco Brothers. He has worked as a producer as well as a musician with numerous other acts such as Lambchop alongside his own WPA Ballclub comrades. He is also the author to the recently published novel Meridian Rising, which is a conceptual imaging of the life of the iconic country singer and songwriter Jimmie Rodgers. I have had the pleasure of meeting Paul on several occasions, here in Ireland, and always been captivated by his performance and personality. So, the release of his latest album, Cry Love and the aforementioned book provided a perfect opportunity to put some questions to him about his opinions and thoughts on related topics.

You were instrumental in bringing the ethos of traditional country and early rock ’n’ roll back to Lower Broadway in the early '90s. It was then considered a pretty rough area then that was to be avoided. Conversely, the same may be true of the area now for very different (often musical) reasons. How do you reflect on those changes in the area and beyond?

First, thank you to Lonesome Highway for welcoming me again. You're kind to offer me credit for helping to bring back some spark to Lower Broadway. But if I had any impact, maybe I should apologize. I went to see Elvis Costello at the Ryman this summer, and when I walked out after the show, I felt like I was in the film It’s A Wonderful Life when Jimmie Stewart’s character George Bailey goes to sleep in Bedford Falls and wakes up in Pottersville. Broadway was a rough area in my time, but there was some code among thieves. Today, it’s a fair reflection of how Western celebrity culture has gone amok. It feels like a deeply cynical place where everything—even your safety—has a price tag and the buyer has no value beyond the transaction.

When I came to town 30 years ago, Lower Broadway was so quiet at night you could hear the creak of the Ernest Tubb Records sign as it turned. Today, there’s no space between the notes. But sure as you give up on it, a true believer will emerge.

I have friends who knock around Robert’s Western World still. That hasn’t changed much. What’s really changed is that in most clubs, the musicians are told what to play. There’s no chance to harden your shell and hone your craft.  I think musicians are at their best when it’s up to them to entertain whatever humanity the wind blows through the door. When we were down there, the music meant everything to us and the people who came to see us. That was our bond. But that’s the breaks. Like Col. Parker once said of Elvis: Nashville had a million dollars’ worth of talent. Now it has a million dollars.

You recently released a new album, Cry Love, with your friends and bandmates, the WPA Ballclub. The enthusiasm and pleasure of making music are apparent in the recordings. This is obviously still something that still inspires?

Yes, the WPAB still inspires me very much. This was a hard year for me personally, and the band was very sustaining.   They are wonderful musicians and wonderful people—which I appreciate most of all. They seem to like what I write and trust me to keep them on their toes. And I trust that they’ll find the heart and soul of what I’m doing and help me make us something beautiful.  They are gallant knights in my book. Something unique happens when we play together. They keep themselves turned towards the outside world, which is difficult for many musicians. We also share a love for recording live with no headphones, face to face. And there aren’t a lot of opportunities to do that typically. I hope they see the band as a place they can be themselves. When we’re on a roll, I don’t know an outfit anywhere that could cut us. And as Fats Kaplin has said himself: I’d like to see them try.

As a writer, singer, musician, and producer, you have added author to that list with the publication of your novel, Meridian Rising. Jimmie Rodgers is, I know, something of an iconic artist for you, so can you tell me something of the genesis of the book?

The genesis of Meridian Rising was gradual, mostly because I had no idea what I was doing, if I could finish it, or even how to get published. The big spark that led me to take up Jimmie Rodgers’ story again came when I read an interview with Howlin’ Wolf, where Wolf said as a young man he knew Jimmie and took yodelling lessons from him. I started to think of Jimmie as a town square where all my favorite musicians could meet. I also was inspired by how funny, bright, and self-aware Jimmie was. Meridian Rising became a musician’s On the Road. Musicians live a life flying low to the ground.  They probably meet more people in their lifetime than any politician. You have to be quick-witted, forgiving, and self-aware to survive. As I got deeper into the novel, I thought the story could also give voice to my friends who make their living on the road. The difference I see between the album and the book might be that the album was for me—my personal adventure as a songwriter. Whereas the book was for Jimmie, the artist, and my artist friends. I don’t know if I was successful. But my aim was to show the value in being serious about what you love. Jimmie worked very hard. The best artists do.

In the past, I have spoken with some people who were known as songwriters who went on to write prose/ fiction, and they pointed out how different the disciplines were. How did you find the process?

The process found me. I knew the transition from writing songs to fiction would be awkward at first. But finding a place to start seems—in retrospect—harder than writing. 

The only model I had was an interview Ernest Hemingway gave to the Paris Review in the early 1950s. Hemingway was in a charitable mood. I think he had just won lots of acclaim for The Old Man and the Sea. And he spoke about how a writer must set aside the same amount of time every day and write until they were almost empty.  So, I tried my version of that. My discipline was writing at least 20 pages, double-spaced, for about two or three hours. Often, I had no idea what I was doing.  But I kept at it, every day, and usually –sometimes even in the last 5 minutes when I couldn’t wait for the session to end--something would arrive in my imagination that made the other 18 pages work. Songwriting has a similar process, but overall is much sweeter and collaborative. For instance, you can have a rehearsal that’s absolutely shambolic.  But you don’t have to relive it. Whereas no matter how good or bad your writing session is, you will have to read it again and spend hours fixing punctuation and adjusting sentences and all that stuff just to make it legible.

If you have a rough mix of your record, you can put it on in the background while you’re eating dinner and see if anyone notices. You can learn a lot about how you’re doing when you’re listening at low volume.  But no one wants to read your unfinished novel. Songwriting also typically comes very quickly. I tried to imagine Meridian Rising as a long Irish ballad that didn’t have music. There are moments where other people in Jimmie’s life get to speak, looking back on their times together. Those moments were like being in a band where you give someone a solo.  I may try it again, but at the moment, I’m relieved to be back in the world of music.

Will you continue in that direction, perhaps expanding the subject matter of your fiction?

I don’t know. If I can get lost again in a story with as much abandon as I did with Jimmie, I would write something else. I’d like to see some aspect of Meridian Rising go to film or stage. In songwriting, I try to write my very best for whatever situation I’m in.  One time, a very big manager wanted to sign me to a label and asked me to write “10 more ‘Isolda’s” because he thought that was a song that could get on the radio. I told him I can’t do that. The one I wrote –for all its flaws and strengths—was about a particular time and place. Meridian Rising arrived during a special time and place. I still don’t walk around thinking that I’m an author. But if I get seized by an idea, I’ll try. There’s nothing wrong with just writing one good book. It seems like a lot of writers go mad if they keep at it.

I have encountered some artists who are of the opinion that it is no longer feasible to physically release an album or even to record one, even though the process of home recording is more sophisticated these days. Where do you stand on that?

I still love making records. I’m not going to stop. But I agree: on paper, it is no longer feasible to do almost anything in music! The business is kaput. It was sold out for pennies.  I’m very lucky that I had some interest in the technology behind making records. And since I’m in Nashville, I’ve had the help of a lot of great engineers. If I could afford it, I’d rather do most of my work in a proper studio. I still think a great studio and a great producer or partner is the ideal way to make a good record. There are a lot of good records out now that could probably be great records if the artist didn’t have to do all the work.

You have also worked as a DJ in recent times. Has that in any way changed your perspective on listening to music?

I love being a DJ. But like my music, the station I broadcast from, wxnafm.org, is very unique in that we can play what we want. My model, both in college and now, was to have a show like John Peel’s, where you might hear something made 90 years ago or something made last week. I’m not sure how it’s impacted my listening. I’m sure being a DJ has impacted my musicianship. I try to get to the point and get out, as John Lennon used to say. And that effort to be impactful has been informed by discovering a lot of music in the DJ booth. I tend to play artists I’ve never heard of before.

In these days of online listening and the seemingly vast amounts of music available to the casual listener, is this a good thing? In that light, I often think that a person like John Peel was a person you could trust to keep you in touch with good music from many different genres and understand where he was coming from without being elitist.

It's not terrible to have so much music available if you know what to look for.  But for people who feel music deeply, I would imagine discovering new music is still a personal adventure they would like to see happen organically. No one likes to be told what to do or who to listen to. Peel and a few other DJs in the western world were really wonderful. They loved music and felt a responsibility to give artists a chance, whether they had any promotion behind them or not.  I think kids in their teens and 20s are especially wary of the current industrial machine taking over their social life. It’s a new beat generation. They’re very aware that there’s a feeling of emptiness in almost everything. The baby boom generation is taking a very long time getting off the stage.  But it just takes one or two great bands to come out who refuse to play the game.  That’s what I’m counting on.

With the many changes in the way Music Row has and continues to function, do you find that Nashville is still a good base to work from?

I do. The musicianship and technical know-how are world-class. We’re all on the same life raft. There is still some funk left. I wish we could just all move to Memphis. I don’t think Nashville would miss us if the musicians left, frankly.

You were a frequent visitor to the UK and Ireland in the past. Do you have plans to return, or has the current travel situation led to a change in how the independent artist can tour, both abroad and at home?

I would love to tour more. Unfortunately, there just isn’t any demand or funds to do it. But if anything changes, I’d play as much as I could.

What are the sources you draw from to write, and do you do so regularly, and store material up, or is it best to write for a particular project?

Everything—truly. I’m not too conscious or specific about where I go for ideas.  I still love bookstores, record shops, and drawing and painting. I don’t feel the pressure to be in the business. But I do have a small seat at a big table and I still love the company of people who—like me—are making records and recording.  I still get a thrill out of releasing a new record and starting one—whether it’s mine or a friend.

You have been doing shows with the WPA Ballclub and introducing guests and having people join you onstage. How appealing is that open-ended, unscripted process?

I love it. I enjoy a set list—I’ve got nothing against them. But I learn the most by having some element of a show be unscripted. If you’re on the road, it’s important to have some structure not only for your peace of mind but for all the people working on your behalf. It’s a great feeling to see a good set list get better and better over many shows. When we play close to home and it’s more casual, it’s more fun and educational to see what happens when you can shake things up a bit. Often, I realize the artists I love are full of surprises once you get them on stage.

What are your plans for the next couple of years, or do you think that far ahead?

I do tend to think a little bit ahead. I have a number of songs that are profiles of people or places and at that moment-that feels like a very natural album. When the paperback version of Meridian Rising comes out, I’d like to re-release a shorter version of the album on LP but perhaps add some new instrumentals—perhaps read from the book, too.  Fats Kaplin and I have a lot of instrumentals that would make a nice album. So yeah—it seems like I do think far ahead!  But I’m also open to being surprised.  Our time is finite. And there’s no time for waiting around anymore.

Is there any other course in life you could and perhaps would have followed in different circumstances?

I never wanted to do anything other than make records. I feel like my life overall is miraculous, and my ability to make music is miraculous.  I’m a musician who probably wouldn’t impress anyone if I were just noodling on my own. But I come to life when I’m playing with good people. So, I’m very thankful that the few things I can do ok managed to attract –even for a moment—the great people in my musical life.

What have been the events and people that have stood the test of time for you?

There are so many. I’m not sure I can answer that very well. Coming to Nashville at the behest of my friends certainly changed my life.  I was with my wife Meg for 25 years, and she passed away from cancer in January.  That loss will reverberate and echo without end. As a musician, it’s probably pretty common to say the small events stand out the most. If I hadn’t met a particular person or gone to a particular club on the right night at the right time, my life could have taken a very boring turn or no turn at all.  You know, Ralph Stanley didn’t find the audience he deserved until he was in his 80s. John Prine became a superstar in the last decade of his life.  At some point, you have to trust that your work will lead you where you need to go and where you deserve to go.

Interview by Stephen Rapid and photography by Chad Cochran

Alex Pianovich (Greazy Alice) Interview

Curiosity and observation are closely connected in both science and the arts, so Alex Pianovich's early career ambitions as a herpetologist may have pointed him toward his current calling as a professional musician and songwriter. The current lineup of his band, Greazy Alice, finds Pianovich working with vocalist Jo Morris in what amounts to a modern take on the classic boy/girl country duet. The band’s debut EP, JUST ANOTHER ONE was released recently, to be followed by another EP, CIRCLES next month and a full-length album in early 2026. Signed to Loose Music, Greazy Alice are visiting our shores next May to perform at the Kilkenny Roots Festival.

Is your career as a herpetologist still current or in the past tense?

That’s past tense now. I studied biology in college, but at eighteen years old, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I fell into that and ended up working in this very cool herpetology lab for a couple of years and got to travel around a bit doing that. I lived in the woods for a while, and that’s when I started playing the guitar and writing songs. I’ve been retired from the herpetology game for over a decade now, but I still keep in touch with all those people. Once in a while, they will have a convention in New Orleans; they’re party animals, but great scientists and lots of fun to be around. I go for long walks every day, and I found a snake in the park the other day, that’s the closest I’ve come to herpetology in a while, but I do a bit of snake identification for my friends. You have no snakes in Ireland; Saint Patrick got them all out.

Given that the band has been in existence for a number of years, is the current configuration of Greazy Alice a second coming?

I would have previously categorised my music as just solo shit, but to avoid confusion and competing with myself, it's easier to package something under one name, so since Jo Morris and I started working together, it has been more of a consolidation than a second coming. It’s strange because I have my own definition of what Greazy Alice was, but I’ve learned to lean into anything that I’m making, and it will come under this moniker at least for now.

 You perform as both a duo with Jo Morris and as a full band.

Greazy Alice is a very collective thing, but at the core of it are Jo and me. We’re all very excited about coming to Ireland. I’ve never been there. We played the U.K. in August, just Jo and me as a two-piece. We had a blast doing that. We’ll have the full band next May for Kilkenny and for whatever else happens. 

You took the band’s name from a character in the 1975 Terry Allen album, JUAREZ.

Yes. That’s a classic record; my friend played it for me about ten years ago when I was jamming with the guys in the first iteration of what was to become Greazy Alice. I didn’t have a name for the band, and we were playing the album and track four on it is Border Palace, and as soon as I heard him say, Greazy Alice, in that song, I said, ‘There you go, that’s the name.’

In the review of the JUST ANOTHER ONE EP, I referenced a cross between Mark Lanegan/Isobel Campbell and Lee Hazlewood/Nancy Sinatra, and that also comes across on the CIRCLES EP to be released next month.

That was so cool, I’m really flattered by the comparison.I never would have thought that, but I’m really happy about that. I have not heard that from anyone before. I love Lee and Nancy, but it's not something that I listen to all the time. It’s probably been kicking around in the back of my mind.

When did performing for fun become a professional option?

It was just for fun at first, but as soon as I started making money and got paid for the first time, I said, ‘I’m doing this.’ When I was twenty-one, I moved to New Orleans because the guitar player in my college band told me it was a great place to play music. I’m very lucky at this point that the majority of my income comes from playing my own stuff and gigs with other people. I’ve also worked all kinds of crazy jobs for the past fifteen years, but it’s finally beginning to work out for me. It takes a long time.

Where are you from originally?

I’m from the northeast in Pennsylvania, and a lot of my family is in the Philadelphia area. New Orleans feels like home, but Pennsylvania does too. I’ve been spending a bit of time back there, my dad’s a dentist back there in Central Pennsylvania, in the middle of nowhere. He’s retired for a few years and had a family practice there that I’ve been slowly trying to outfit into a recording space. I’ve been spending a bit more time up there to be close to my family. I’m from a town of about a thousand people in the middle of nowhere, and I do like being there, but if I want to be in a city, I want to be in New Orleans.

The magic and risks of relationships are drilled into in the song and title track of your first EP, JUST ANOTHER ONE.

It’s the recognition that anytime you give yourself over fully to something, there is a potential for massive hurt to occur and the potentially negative side. That runs through that whole record.  

Will the full album, due to be released early next year, include all the material from the two EPs?

It will be the two EPs, JUST ANOTHER ONE and CIRCLES, minus a couple of tracks and six more tracks that will not be released in any form until the album comes out. So, it’s six tracks from the two EPs and six more. It may be a weird way of doing it, but that’s the way Loose and I decided to do it, so let’s see how this goes. We have done a limited run of cassettes with the full tracks to have something with my label here in New Orleans.

I understand that you recorded both EPs using a basic reel-to-reel Tascam recorder.

We recorded both EPs that way, except for a few bonus tracks that my buddy and I recorded from an earlier session.

Did that take the pressure off having to decide which to run with among multiple recordings?

Absolutely, I hate that workflow of trying to piece things together. It’s a nice tape machine, a sixteen-track one-inch. I prefer to go in there with guys who can play and try to get it right in the room. We did the reverbs and compression with outboard gear and did some minimal mixing on ProTools, but what came out on the tape was very close to what was released. We were very cognisant of what we were doing at the front end and very precise with that because I hate mixing, I’m not good at it and don’t have the money to pay anyone else to do it. That is the way everyone did it for a long time, and to me it’s more fun.

Where did the countryfied aspect of Greazy Alice’s sound come from?

I came to it the way a lot of people do. You listen to The Rolling Stones, find they’re hanging out with Gram Parsons, and then check out all of Gram Parsons' influences. That’s how I got into country. I liked some of the country that was happening in the 90s, though my father hated country music. He had the country channel on our TV blocked, so that when he was flipping through the channels, he wouldn’t accidentally land on it. My mom liked Mary Chapin Carpenter, and that was often playing in the car when I was growing up. I hadn’t remembered that, but my mom tells me that when I was two or three years old, I’d want Passionate Kisses and He Thinks He’ll Keep Her on in the car. I actually listened to that album COME ON COME ON a few months ago and I knew every song; they must have been living in the back of my brain for thirty-five years.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Greazy Alice play https://kilkennyroots.com/ in May 2026.

Kirsten Adamson Interview

DREAMVIEWER, the second solo album by Kirsten Adamson, drills down deeply into matters of the heart. Spurred on by real life and personal issues over a given period, the album confronts emotionally raw terrain yet closes on a note of positivity. Daughter of Stuart Adamson of The Skids and Big Country fame, Kirsten and her band, The Tanagers, travelled to London to record the album at producer Joe Harvey-Whyte’s Karma Studios. Despite the soul-searching depth of the material, the sound is often upbeat and always enthralling, with Kirsten’s delicate vocals perfectly placed in the mix. ‘These songs just came out because of things that were happening in my personal life; they're real songs,’ Kirsten told Lonesome Highway when we recently chatted with her.

Early memories of what drew you to music?

My dad was a musician and songwriter, so I was kind of subconsciously immersed in it from such a young age. And I think when you're young, you don't even realise how much of an effect that has on you.  I was taken to gigs at the Barrowlands, Glasgow as a child, and I still remember those gigs clearly and the atmosphere.  Seeing bands live from such a young age, it must have been really influential for me, although I didn't know it at the time. I then got really into doing musical theatre as a child; I was a singer. I've always been a singer since I can remember.

Had you dipped into songwriting in those younger days?

No, but when I was sixteen and my dad passed away, I picked up a guitar for the first time, and I started to write my own songs. I'd been in Nashville for three or four summers, staying with my dad. So not only had I been immersed in music, but I’d also been immersed in country music from twelve or thirteen years old as well. I started hearing all these country artists across there in the late 90s, like Gillian Welsh and Faith Hill, and that's the kind of music that I felt I connected to. So, when I started writing my own stuff, it came out with a bit of an American tinge to it.

That led to the formation of your first band.

Yes, I started writing songs at about sixteen. Then I moved to Edinburgh and formed my first band, The Gillyflowers. We were an eight-piece country-rock band. We played for quite a good few years, and we recorded an album, but it never saw the light of day; it didn’t make it out of the studio before the band ended up separating. I found myself on my own, and I put out a solo record, more of a sort of pop-style record. I think that was a bit of a product of people telling me what they thought I should do and not just going by what I felt.  That was back in 2015, and I then went on to create a sort of country harmony duo called The Marriage, which is me and a songwriter called Dave Burn from London. We're still together; he is in my band, of course, but the distance between us as a duo meant that it never really worked.

And your solo career then followed.

Yes, when lockdown hit, I really started getting back into writing, just mainly by myself. In 2023, when my record LANDING PLACE came out, at that point, I think that the way I wanted to communicate, via music, started to come out properly.  I first toured that record with my guitarist, John Mackenzie, and then we toured it again with my band, The Tanagers. The grouping with the band really worked, not just in a studio setting, but also live. We went out on tour and started playing some of the newer material I had, and some of those songs ended up on the new album, DREAMVIEWER.

DREAMVIEWER is very much Kirsten Adamson, a reflection of what you really wanted to write and record.

Yes, LANDING PLACE was a personal record in terms of the song content, but DREAMVIEWER is even more so, because it's about the last few years of my life and the stuff that's happened to me. When I go to write, there’s no day job to distract me from what I'm feeling and thinking, so these songs just came out because of things that were happening in my personal life; they're real songs. They're not scenarios, and they've come from a place of grief, even though some, a lot of them are quite upbeat.

Joe Harvey-White produced the album. How did that connection come about

I had met Joe Harvey-Whyte a couple of times over the years through my friend Dave Burn, and we reconnected when I was down at the Americana Awards in January of 2024.  I'd gone because My Father's Songs, from LANDING PLACE, had been nominated for Song of the Year. I had a brief conversation with Joe, and he said he’d love to produce the next record. And that was it, really, and I just thought, yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I love Joe's playing; he is an incredible multi-instrumentalist, and he has his own studio, Karma, in London. I tend not to overthink these things, because I feel like these little meanings are signs that you should follow. So, we went down to Karma Studios in October, which is pretty much a year to the day today, and we started recording DREAMVIEWER.

How long did the recording take?

We had already done some of the pre-production ourselves; all the arrangements were kind of already in place, really. With the three boys from The Tanagers and me, we recorded the record in about five days, and most of it was recorded live.

I particularly love that you always sing in your own natural Scottish accent.

People often comment, ‘We were expecting me to sound like someone else, but you don't.’ That is a massive compliment for me, because it would be very easy to try and imitate something else, but it's harder just to be yourself and put your own identity out there.

There is a natural flow to the album’s stories, starting with the candid My Life and followed by the bittersweet In The Next Life. But you do sign off with the title track, which offers hope and optimism in the future.

When I went to pick the songs for the album, I had about thirty-five to choose from. About half of them went on EPs that were released over the year. Those eleven tracks that are on the album were carefully selected in terms of how they flowed musically and how they shaped the story of the album. With a lot of records these days, they're imagining that people are just going to listen to the tracks separately on Spotify or something like that. I don't really like to do that; I like to have the record shaped and formed into something that people can create a story in their head or connect with some form of flow.  I decided to place many of the more uplifting songs at the start, make the middle a bit more reflective, and finish with DREAMVIEWER, which I think is a bit of a sad song. Still, it was also quite hopeful because the story is left open.  That's the point I reached in my life when I wrote that track; the story hadn't been resolved. But I was hopeful that it was going to be resolved, and that's what proved to be the title track.

The song Backseat Driver does not have a happy ending, but that might be for the better in the long run.

That song came from a situation that wasn't really that pleasant. But, again, I was hoping that things were going to be fine in the end and that someday we were going to take off on this imaginary highway, and that there wasn't going to be anyone in the background. It came from a frustrating situation, and I felt helpless, but I still could see what might be on the other side of that.  So, it was therapeutic for me to write that song because it gave me hope. Hopefully, that's how it comes across.

Another open-hearted song that I love is Perfume. It speaks of childhood memories; did motherhood have an input into the song?

One of the lines in the song is the ‘time to forget the bad side of me.’ I think that's been the effect that growing up with a father who committed suicide had on me and feeling like I really didn't get the chance to be a teenager. I was only sixteen when that happened, and it affected me for a long time. I didn't even really realise how badly it affected me until I had my own child and started looking back. Having children can trigger things in yourself you've almost forgotten about, and so after I had my little one, I started really reflecting on that, and quite literally. I still have all these perfumes but spraying them on would transport me back to something dramatic. So, the song is about ‘why do we hold on to these things that remind us of bad times that we've had? And maybe it's time to just kind of throw them out and be free of the burden.’

You mentioned your dad, and I often wonder how offspring in the arts deal with having a famous parent. How do you react to being mentioned as Stuart Adamson’s daughter in the media?

My dad had such amazing fans that years ago, I kind of tried to shy away from it all. But after being on the road, going through Covid, and receiving support from a vast number of his fans, I realised the importance, so I tend not to shy away from that connection now.  It might be because I've felt like I have reconnected with my dad through covering some of his songs during lockdown on my live streams, but also, I've connected with a lot of his audience, both online and through live gigs. I just feel like, for me to heal and be proud of my heritage, it's important to keep that connection with them. But that's only something I've realised over the past few years; I never would have even mentioned it ten or fifteen years ago. I don't know if it does me any favours in the press or gig booking, but I think it's just important to keep that heritage going.

Congratulations on DREAMVIEWER. It’s a great listen, and I understand you have recently been signed to Renaissance Records in Arizona to reach a greater audience in the United States.

Yes, the head of SGO Music, who publishes my songs, had posted a tiny clip on his Facebook Page, and Renaissance Records commented on it, asking if they could represent me. We chatted with John Edwards from the label, and they are going to distribute the album globally.

Interview by Declan Culliton Photograph by John Mackiec

Grey DeLisle Interview

Grammy-winning and Emmy-nominated comedian, voice actress, and singer-songwriter Grey DeLisle cites Cindy Walker as her foremost musical influence. With over five hundred songs recorded over five decades, four hundred of which made the Top 40 country or pop charts, Walker’s songs were recorded by household names like Bing Crosby, Bob Willis, Roy Orbison, Ray Charles and Elvis Presley. She passed away, at the age of eighty-eight, on March 23rd, 2006, just nine days after Willie Nelson released the tribute album, YOU DON’T KNOW ME: THE SONGS of CINDY WALKER. Nearly two decades later, having discovered that Walker’s childhood home was in disrepair, Grey has acted as executive producer on another tribute to Walker titled IT’S ALL HER FAULT: A TRIBUTE TO CINDY WALKER, primarily to raise funds to assist The Cindy Walker Foundation in the restoration of the house in Mexia, Texas. Grey enlisted an all-female cast of established and emerging artists to contribute (complete listing below). This project is not only a worthy fundraiser but is also likely to feature in many end-of-year listings as the finest compilation album of 2025. We spoke with Grey shortly after the album’s release about how the project came about and the hugely positive reviews that it has been receiving.

Was music your first love ahead of acting or comedy?

Music was definitely my first love. My mother was in a Beach Boys and Beatles cover band when I was young. My grandmother raised me, so she was a big influence. She sang with Tito Puente, so she always had music around the house. I would get her stage wear out of a big trunk and put them on when I was little. Also, my father was a big fan of the Carter Family, Hank Williams, and Patsy Cline. He played their music all the time. He was very into the outlaw country movement, too.  So, I heard a lot of Waylon and Willie growing up. 

You are in the ideal position now that you can pursue acting, comedy and music.

The acting and all that pays for the music because the music doesn't pay very well, but I love it so much.

When did that love of music develop into songwriting?

I've been writing songs since I was probably five years old, I thought that everyone wrote songs. It wasn't until I was maybe eight or nine that I realised that that's not something that everybody does.

Did you rebel during your teenage years and get into heavier music?

Oh, I absolutely did. Yeah. I remember Suicidal Tendencies were playing, and my grandmother was like, 'What is that?'  I loved goth stuff, The Cure, and Depeche Mode. I got into that pretty heavy in high school, but then I came right back. I've always loved old jazz standards too. I had a Billie Holiday cassette that I got at some truck stop with my dad, and I wore that thing out.

Apart from your own busy recording career, you undertook the Cindy Walker Tribute album, which has deservedly been receiving excellent reviews.

I'm so pleasantly surprised at what a great reception it's getting. I follow The Cindy Walker Foundation page on Facebook, and they were saying how her childhood home was falling apart. And I thought to myself that somebody should do something about that. And then I had my grandma's voice in my head saying, 'Well, you're somebody.' Every time I say someone should do something about anything, I always hear her voice saying, 'you're somebody.'

How did it evolve from an idea into a fully blown project?

Ray Benson, from Asleep at the Wheel, asked me to co-host a television show with him for RFD TV, and he had all these amazing artists coming in. So, I started meeting Brennen Leigh, Melissa Carper, Ginny Mac, Katie Shore and others, which gave me the idea to go ahead and hopefully get them on board. I got a bit nervous at the idea of doing this record, even with all these people being put in my path. I was just going to get everyone to do a track and then pull them all together. My spirit was right but my musical prowess was not as adept as it could have been. Fortunately, and thank goodness for our musical producer, Edward Clendening, who said, 'We have to have a cohesive sound. We'll have great musicians, ask them what key to do the songs in, record them and then send them to artists to record their vocals. So, we did four days of recording with the band and then sent on the recordings to all the artists.

You got the perfect mix of established artists like Rosie Flores, Gail Davis, Mandy Barnett and Kelly Willis, to name but a few, alongside emerging artists like Kimmi Bitter and Summer Dean.

I really feel like it was divine intervention. I just happened to meet all these incredible people around the time that I was trying to put this thing together.

You got Gail Davies out of retirement to contribute.

Yes. I hired the great Chris Scruggs to be the steel player. I had a meal with him in Nashville, and his mom came too. I was like, 'Oh my god, Gail Davies is eating with us, I love her so much.' And I asked Chris if he thought he could ask his mom to be a part of this. It was touch and go for a while because she had hurt her leg and told us to go ahead and get somebody else. I told her that we had time, and even if it's a week before the pressing, we would wait. She was so lovely.

Had you previously known many of the other artists?

I met Mandy Barnett through Andy Paley, pretty much at his bedside when he was very sick with cancer, and she has become a dear friend.  I opened for Kimmi Bitter here in Los Angeles and became friends with her. I knew Amythyst Kiah was a cartoon fan, which is so crazy. She's a fan of this show called Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I worked on, and she had been standing in line to get my autograph. I was like, 'Aren't you Amythyst Kiah, and did you stand in line and pay for my autograph? You're getting your money back.' We stayed in touch, and because I wanted to contact her but be professional, I reached out to her manager, Dolph Ramseur, and she came on board.

Did you select the songs for the artists or allow them to choose?

The only song that I had selected ahead of time was, You Don't Know Me. I wanted to hear Rosie Flores sing that one. I said, 'We have got to give it to the Queen first,' because I knew others would choose it. After that, I just asked everyone to please email me their favourite Cindy Walker song, something that resonates with them. I was hoping that they wouldn't be all ballads, because we can't have an all-ballad album. There were a couple of people where I said, 'What about this one? This one might lift the feel the album,' but for the most part, it was just whatever song really connected with that artist. I think that's why the album is resonating so much with people, because each woman is singing something that really rings true to her and has touched them personally.

You make your own vocal contribution on Brennen Leigh's selection; You've Got My Heart Doing A Tap Dance.

I wasn't to sing any song on the album, but I had sung scratch on all the songs. When I sent the song to Brennen with the scratch vocal, angel as she is, she said that we must make the song a duet, and I wasn't going to argue with her.

Was it always going to be all women recordings?

Yes, it was important to me to do an all-female album. Not to be sexist, but enough men have sung Cindy Walker songs and not enough women; men have all had hits with her songs. I have dear men friends who are wonderful country artists, and were saying, 'Hey, aren't you doing a Cindy tribute? And I'm not on it.' But no, it's just the girls, all women, I told them.

Given how it is shaping up so far, the project is going to be a serious fundraiser for The Cindy Walker Foundation.

I thought it couldn't be a failure. Even if we raised $10, that could put a shingle on that roof or something. I just had the best intentions, and I am pleased that it might actually fix the entire house. It's doing pretty darn well. So, I encourage people to get it on Bandcamp, because that way all the proceeds will go toward the restoration. And, once the house is restored, they want to have songwriting camps there for singer-songwriters and to have a museum where you can see the office where Cindy wrote You Don't Know Me, and the mailbox where she sent off Dream Baby to Roy Orbison to be recorded.

It stands on its own two feet as a great album and hopefully introduces a whole new and younger audience to Cindy Walker's songwriting.

It's so true, I was on a date with this man who loves country music. And he said, 'Who are your favourite songwriters?' And I said, 'Oh gosh. Rodney Crowell, Dolly Parton, Harlan, Howard, and Cindy Walker, of course.' And he goes, 'Cindy Lauper.'  He didn't know her, and I named off ten of her songs. He was like, 'You're kidding me. I can't believe that I missed that.' And I thought more people need to know about Cindy Walker.

Interview by Declan Culliton

• Details of how to purchase the album and help with the fundraising mentioned above alongside a full list of contributors can be found through this link:

https://greydelisle.bandcamp.com/album/its-all-her-fault-a-tribute-to-cindy-walker 

Kashena Sampson Interview

A member of the bohemian East Nashville artistic community, Kashena Sampson has recently released her third studio album, GHOST OF ME.  If her two previous records, WILD HEART (2017) and TIME MACHINE (2021), signalled an artist comfortable in the Americana music genre, her latest record explores the darker indie sounds that were closest to her heart during her younger years. It’s very much a ‘this is me’ project both sonically and lyrically, with Sampson’s multi-octave vocals offering torturous reflections on failed relationships alongside textured stories about survival in an unforgiving industry. It’s her most ambitious project to date and also, without doubt, her finest.

Where did you spend your early years?

I was born in Seoul, Korea, and then I moved to Hong Kong. I was there until I was about eight years old, around third grade. And then my family moved to Greenwich, Connecticut. Right before high school, we moved to Las Vegas, where my family still lives. I've lived in a lot of places, including Los Angeles, which is where my parents are both from and then in 2011, I got a job singing on cruise ships. I did that for three years, and after that was done, I moved to Nashville in 2015.

Did you get formal voice training?

Yes, I started taking vocal lessons when I was in third grade, after moving to Connecticut on and off, and then to Las Vegas as well. But it was when I lived in Los Angeles that I found a teacher who changed my life and changed my voice. It was the way he would explain things to me that made me feel like he really believed in me and my voice. I still use the warm-ups he taught me to this day before every show

That work on a cruise ship must have been interesting.

That was my first real paid gig as a musician. I have always sung; I grew up in a musical family; both my sisters sing and write music. In my late teens and early 20s, I was rebelling against it and didn’t want to sing with them. I wanted to do my own thing. I really started taking my singing and music seriously and sat down to teach myself how to play the guitar, because I could play a little, but I never really practised. And I started practising every day and working on writing my own songs. After a year or two, I got the job on the cruise ship.

What music were you expected to perform on the cruise ship?

It was interesting. We did have a set number of shows that we were contracted to perform. We had an Abba show, a Motown show, an opera show, and then a Beatles show, which was my favourite. We also had to do our own cabaret performances, just a solo performance, and I would do a lot of 60s and 70s folk music. It was a small cruise ship, 300 passengers, and it was a very lovely experience. I was supposed to do it for seven months, but I ended up doing it for three years because it was a lot of fun. And I got paid to see the entire world, almost 70 countries or more.

What was the draw from the high seas to Nashville?

I had never really thought about Nashville, but while I was on the cruise ship, many people and guests would mention that I should check out Nashville. So, it was kind of like a nugget in my brain. And then when I went back to Las Vegas, there were a lot of people in Las Vegas who were also telling me I should check out Nashville. I had a friend there with who I was writing songs with, and he was going to be moving out to Nashville. He introduced me to another girl who was writing songs and needed someone to record a song that she had written. They called me into the studio to record it, and the band that was in the studio were the backing band for Olivia Newton-John, because she was doing her residency in Las Vegas at the time. They were all from Nashville, and they were also telling me that I should check out Nashville and that I'd really do well there. And so again, it was a little nugget. Six months after that, the girl who had asked me to sing her song told me she was moving to Nashville and was looking for roommates. I thought, 'Why not? I'll be a roommate.' I'd never been there before.

You ended up in the bohemian musical environment of East Nashville.

Yes, musically, I landed in the exact right location in East Nashville. We were renting a furnished room from her mutual friend, and I've never left East Nashville since then. I didn't really know what to expect, so I went online and saw some actual videos of East Nashville. I remember at that time seeing videos of my now best friend, Erin Rae, and I thought, Oh, she does some nice music. She's in East Nashville. We ended up being roommates. I think I moved in with her about six months after I moved here.

And how did you find being integrated into that community?

Financially getting my footing in and figuring out, how I was going to pay my bills and survive while I'm trying to chase my dreams was a difficult start, but then, I think it was around the same time, about a month or two after moving here, I got my job working at the Basement East and I've been there for 10 years.

Has working in a music venue been helpful for your artistic career?

Yes, having my job at the Basement East has helped me tremendously, as many people have just come in there and recognised my face. I got my first gig at a New Faces night, and the booking agent at Basement East booked me for my first real gig there. He heard me singing to myself while I was working there and booked me.

Did you feel drawn towards Americana in terms of writing and recording, given its popularity at that time?

When I was learning to play the guitar, I used country songs with basic three-chord progressions. My favourite singer of all time is Linda Ronstadt, and I was listening to her and Emmylou Harris, and using their songs in my show on the cruise ship. When I moved to Nashville, at that time in my life, in my 20s, that was the music I was listening to. Previously, during my teenage years, I listened to a lot more rock music, and The Beatles were always there.

If your first two albums, WILD HEART and TIME MACHINE, came from Americana leanings, your new record, GHOST OF ME, has an altogether rockier sound. Is this a more accurate reflection of a sound closest to your heart?

I didn’t want this record to be Americana.  I have very diverse tastes in music, and as I was writing these songs, I started listening back to a lot of the music I grew up with. I'm not poo pooing my previous albums, because I think they are both beautiful, and I worked hard on them; they were an evolution of my songwriting and ability as I was learning and growing as a songwriter. I really pushed myself in the songwriting aspect of this record and in my choices in production. With my first two records, I would write a song, but I wouldn't rework it. I had the amazing musicians Jeremy Fetzer on guitar and John Radford on drums for my first two records, and I worked with John Estes, who also produced the new record. They would play music to the songs in the studio, and I'd be like, ‘That's amazing.’ Looking back at the first two records, there were a lot of things that I wish I had pushed more for, but I didn't do that. But now, as I have developed as a musician and a songwriter for this record, I took a lot more time crafting my songs. I reworked a lot of my songs. I would bring something to John (Estes), and he might say to change the chorus, and I might find new chords and chord progressions as well.

In addition to the fuller sound, the songwriting is more direct, hard-hitting, and at times dark. There are few upbeat moments. Was that intentional?

I don't know if it's a conscious choice. I do remember when I was writing these songs, and when I brought them to John, he did say, ‘Maybe write a happy song.’  It's just the emotion of where I was at that time in my life, and sometimes I look at it as therapeutic, in a way, of me writing about how I'm feeling so that I can move forward with my day and have some joy. I do have a lot of songs about relationships, and I guess they haven't been all that great yet. Sometimes I think that if I had a nice relationship, I might write some happier songs.

Despite that, you sign off GHOST OF ME on an upbeat note with the song Thick as Thieves.

I remember sharing this album because I've been sitting on it for two and a half years now with some of my close friends. One of them commented that he loved the record, but it's weird that, suddenly, at the end, there is this nice love song. That's not exactly what it is. It is a love song to a best friend, but it's a love song of reminiscing about that time in our lives, and me driving in my Ford Explorer, and her always being there by my side.

On the opening and title track, you sing ‘Struck in the same place, same routine.’  Is that a reflection of regret or comfort?

I don't know if it's regret or comfort. It's really just frustration.  Granted, I have a great job working in a music venue, and you I can learn a lot from that, but it comes from my frustration of working there and watching people on the stage, and me wanting to be on that stage and not understanding why I haven't been able to get the help that I've needed to further my music career.

Your sister, Jolana, receives co-writing credits on a few of the songs on the album. Is she your bouncing board?

Yes. She and my older sister have been writing songs since they were about 10 years old. I didn't start writing till much later in my life, until my mid-20s. We've co-written many songs together for all my records. I also pushed myself with this record to branch out and start co-writing with other people, besides my sister. I met with a few other people in Nashville to do some co-writes, although none of those songs really ended up on the record, except the ones written with Caroline Spence.With her, it just clicked. I’d have these ideas scribbled on a bunch of pages in a journal, and she is structured and get them organised. I love writing with her.

One of the songs you wrote with Jolana, Awakening, is particularly striking.

That song came from an experience I had in a relationship six years ago. It was a toxic relationship, and I learned a lot from it, but there was just a lot of gaslighting and emotional abuse. In a way, I guess that song came from the ending of that relationship and having what I would call a spiritual awakening. It is pretty heavy, yeah, and I'm comfortable because it serves as a jumping-off point for growth. Growth comes from seeing what isn't working and realising that I don't actually have control over anything I think I have control over.

The song God is also powerful.  Would you consider yourself religious in any way, or is that kind of like a cry for help?

No, I'm not religious; I consider myself spiritual, and I do believe in a God and a higher power. I grew up Jewish; my family were spiritual, but I don't remember being very religious. That song stemmed from a setup of the Sistine Chapel over at Opry Mills in Nashville a couple of years ago. I went with a bunch of friends to take a look at it. I don't really know much about religions and other religions and what the beliefs are, but some of the stuff they were telling me rubbed me the wrong way, to be honest, like women are born of sin, and then you must work your way through your life to remove that sin. That doesn't work for me. I believe that we are born of light and that the world itself and other people's beliefs get put on us, and as we go through this life, and it's our job to remove them back to that light. So, I wrote that song about a relationship with God.

Finally, how essential is the relationship between fashion and art to you?

I think it's very important. I'm very visual, and I think it is a part of a show. I see the difference even at work when someone gets up in their blue jeans.  I’m not saying ‘don’t get up in your blue jeans,’ but, for me, it makes a difference when you have an outfit that goes with your sound. Light the stage lighting; it’s part of the show.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Petunia Interview

Back in 2013, Lonesome Highway made this comment on seeing Petunia and The Vipers: "You need a powerful presence to front a band like the Vipers, a very talented bunch of players. In the man called Petunia, they have an equally striking frontman, one who can step back and allow his players their time in the spotlight. Petunia cut his teeth as a busker who discovered classic country along the way and currently hosts a show that mixes his own songwriting talent with classic country songs that distil the essence of what is good and vibrant about the music." On his own website, this has been noted as "Louis Armstrong was once asked what his favourite kind of music was, and his response was simple; Good Music! which in this case can mean Hank Williams on acid … Tom Waits meets Elvis at Woody Guthrie's Hobo junction … Avant-Country night club scene music. Which is to say that his music has antecedents in the past, with an intuitive grasp of the future. Petunia kindly answered some questions for us while currently on tour.

At this point, after performing and recording, are you still in tune with your original musical vision for your material?

I believe so. I like to try and be like George J., who said, "Try to recall how you felt when first singing and writing the song".

For this album Callin' Me Back, you expanded your sound to include a bigger brass section. Was this a natural progression or something you wanted to do for some time?

Both actually. I had been toying with horns in song arrangements for a while, as far back as the Petunia and the Loons album in 2009. This has what are perhaps my first attempts at horn arranging.

It was also a natural progression since I had been playing weekly in Vancouver with a horn section of on and off players, from around the Vancouver area for a couple years, which ended up coalescing into loose arrangements, with some guidance.

We should mention the supporting players who have been with you for some time in The Vipers. How much of what you do have they been?

Huge. It cannot be overlooked, and I'm glad that you asked. Thank you for asking.

Jimmy and Stephen of course used to play with Ray Condo. They were 2 of his 4 Ricochets (Ray Condo and the Ricochets). I suppose that the whole band sound therefore, has foundations in their playing. You know, as band "leader" one is always trying to capitalize on one's assets, one's strongpoints, what you got, you know? I had Jimmy and Stephen, perhaps the best duo in the country at their sort of game. So, I played into that. We used their style of playing (Rockabilly/Western swing) to break into the U.S. West Coast scene, in Ray's footprints, so to speak. He had already built up a huge fanbase along the U.S. West coast, so we just tried to tap into that, initially, which was mildly successful.

Back then, Marc L'Esperance was our drummer. He helped record some of the Ray recordings and ended up co-producing with Phil Sgriccia and I, on our first breakout album, Petunia and the Vipers. That was also a big contribution that cannot be overlooked since that album has awarded us much acclaim. Not only that though, Marc did all of the bookings (tour dates and hotels), promotion, and most of the driving. Also, a very big part of any indie touring band. Without that stuff you don't really have a touring band. Not for long anyways. All that stuff I had to take over when Paul Townsend took over in 2013 and has been the drummer ever since.

We went through many bass players (and still do). First, there was Tony Labourie and Sam Shoichet, followed by James Lillico, then Patrick Metzger, who ended up playing with us for a number of years. Patrick passed it off to Joseph Lubinsky-Mast, who plays on this recording and the one before (Lonesome Heavy and Lonesome from 2018). There's gotta be perhaps 10 local bass players in the rotation these days, so you never know who you'll see on Vancouver dates. That may be said for the rest of the band as well. On this upcoming tour, it'll be close to the OG band with Jimmy Roy on lap steel and electric guitars, Stephen Nikleva on electric guitar, Paul Townsend on drums and first tour for Cyrus Wylie on upright bass.    

Has it been an issue trying to hold together such an exceptional set of musicians?

Yes and No. On the one hand, you want to but can't always take the dream band out on the road, so you are forced to improvise. On the other hand, in improvising and creating different band combos, I've been able to play with interesting sonic combinations that I wouldn't otherwise have tried out. Who knew that playing with a punk rock lap steel player (Liam McIvor) and a trad jazz clarinettist (Joe Abbot) could provide such an interesting sound? That's the most obvious and recent example, since we toured for 3 months together last year across the USA, although there are other lesser examples.

This album was delayed due to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. How difficult was that for you?

Hmmm … well, to be honest, I needed a break from touring. That feeling made itself apparent in the first 9 months of lockdown. I put down my guitar - I didn't have to play for the first time in over 20 years. I could experience the seasons for the first time in 20 years, in one location. I went camping a ton and LOVED it! … When I eventually did pick up my guitar to play and sing again, 9 months later, it was the feeling of being inspired that led me to play and sing. It was a genuine thrill to pick it up and play. I wrote 30 songs in this first 3-4 months of playing again, and most of them, I feel like are pretty good.

Since I play in a way back time machine kind of lens, or at least that's how I imagine people see us … I feel like the album is as timeless today as it would have been 5 years ago.

You have mentioned that from listening to and playing some songs written by others in the past has help you shape how you write your own material. Does that imply that writing is a difficult process?

Maybe if one is trying to write a song, it can seem difficult. I feel like I intentionally do not try. I wait. Or perhaps "live" is a better word. I live my life, and songs come to me. They come more abundantly and with a greater urgency if I'm also learning new material. I think that learning, in and of itself, can be a great life-giving force. Learning is a sort of gift. Perhaps it's that feeling that you get when you've learnt something new and are thrilled that you now know about that thing, or how to do that thing, or it makes you think differently or gives you a different perspective. It makes your step a little lighter, and springier for a time, learning does. Remember what it was like to first learn to ride a bike?! That first ride!!

Has the fact that you were able to play in Ireland and across Europe in the past changed due to cost and logistics?

Indeed. We are experiencing tougher economic times than ever. 1st world problems though. Most of us still have a roof over our heads, clean drinking water, food and a semblance of "culture".

Also, with an expanded lineup from the new album, is there a difficulty in getting that number of players on the road, or do you, for practical reasons, tour with a smaller combo?

Yeah, we tour as a 5 piece band. Whereas the album often has 9 to 11 players per song. I have toured for brief stints with the horn section, just before recording, in order to get the arrangements up to speed and sounding closer to what I wanted them to sound like. But yeah, it's too expensive for us at this stage in the band's history to tour as much bigger than a 5 piece. 

There is obviously a passion in you to continue writing and performing your music, but is that harder in these times?

Yup. Tougher all the time. Builds bigger muscles though.

Can you surmise what attracted you to play your hillbilly influenced material?

A very sophisticated, classy and complicated lady, Sheila Gostick. A genius. We fell in love. She had a suitcase full of hillbilly music. I ate it up, learned to play and sing, and never looked back.  

When did that particular music act as a catalyst?

Over 20 years ago. I haven't talked to Sheila in ages.

Your production partner Steve Loree, with his own musical background (Jr Gone Wild - a punk/country band), seems an unlikely pairing, but it obviously works.

Works great. He has a very farm ethic and that works for me too. No nonsense. He grew up, after all, farming and ranching in southern Alberta, so perhaps it's not as unlikely as it may seem. Steve is very hillbilly. And eccentric. And wonderful. And his musical sensibility is really varied, which helps a lot. He's a great host and has an excellent bedside manner almost all the time. He's even been our steel player at times, while on tour.

How have the changes in releasing music changed for you now from when you started?

Oh my gosh. So much has changed. You used to be able to sell your albums to fans at shows. People would buy CDs. I know, it seems crazy now, but you used to be able to recoup your recording costs through album sales. It was a beautiful thing. And promoting an album's release used to not be so nefarious. You'd spend money on a publicist and you'd be able to measure their success in articles that came out talking about your album in printed media. Now it's a giant algorithmic mysterious playlisting nightmare. It's become a lot closer to rocket science imo. There was a small window of time when the music industry had less of a grip on the market, where more DIY artists could thrive, but we've been moving backwards from that time for at least a decade now. I suppose there's always an ebb and flow of this sort. The people at the top with their fingers in the pie always want more, after all. That is the corporate world we seem to be living in. I digress. 

Have you any particular career highlights that stand out?

So many! The first 3 to 5 years of hitch hiking around Canada were filled with adventure and too many highlights to recall. Busking and the life of an itinerant musician. Every day was a new adventure. I found a severed hand on the side of the road for God sakes … Finding my first car on the side of the road, without a license or registration or insurance, for $350! Sold it a few years later, in a bar after the show … for $350 … Going overseas was great, but I'd already had way more fun doing that before I played music, when I was just wandering around Europe and Africa for the sake of wandering. THAT was fun … Starting my first band was a highlight. Then I got banned from the Cameron House bar in Toronto, and the band split from me. They carried on playing there without me, calling themselves The Backstabbers … Starting my first band with drums! That was a fun ride too. That was in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Matt Carter had been the leader and orchestrator of the drum core of the world-famous Fredericton Pipe band. Yes, they won competitions all over Europe. He had rudimental chops up the yin yang and became our drummer. We almost burned the house down while recording our first and only album. For real. A guy had to come over while we were recording, and cut out a portion of the wall in the wooden cabin that we had turned into a recording studio. With a chainsaw. In the winter with 4 feet of snow. In the middle of the night. Cause that's when you record a lot of the times … Meeting Wanda Jackson who told me, "meeting people is my job", when I was trying to be scarce, coz I figured she wanted peace and quiet in a shared dressing room. Playing with Phil Alvin and Exene Cervenka in a roots band in LA when we'd tour there for a spell. Starring in The Musicianer , a 22 min narrative episode directed by Beth Harrington (The Winding Stream - From The Carters to the Cashes, Women of Rockabilly), like actual acting, not a documentary. Super clown fun. Most recently, touring through Argentina with Angry Zeta.  

What is your vision for the future?

Action and adventure, romanticism, loneliness, being haunted by my own self, meeting awesome new people all over the world, making better and better music. Or at least, getting closer and closer to a less is more approach when recording songs. Recording on records, like vinyl records, most of my repertoire would be fantastic if that could happen. I'm proud of many of the songs that I can play, the people that I've learned from, the people that I get to play with and how we play those songs together. But then again, just playing music together with other people is a great reward. Reg Hartt once told me that, "The artist life is it's own reward".  

Interview by Stephen Rapid

Callin' Me Back is out now and the review can be read in our album review section.

William Prince Interview

Canadian Americana artist William Prince spoke to us when he came to Belfast with Midland’s recent UK tour, where he was the opening act. He talked extensively about the production (by fellow Canadian artist Liam Duncan, aka Boy Golden) on his upcoming fifth album, FURTHER FROM THE COUNTRY, due for release on Six Shooter Records in October. He also chatted about his First Nations heritage, his musical influences, intergenerational trauma, songwriting, the current state of the music industry and his golf obsession.

I'm fascinated generally by the producer/artist relationship, and I'm interested in your choice of producer, Liam Duncan, for this new album. We're familiar with his work as Boy Golden, of course. So how did this collaboration come about? I know you're both on the same label, Six Shooter Records, and you're both Canadian ...

Yeah, just like that. We're neighbours, essentially, just down the road from one another and being on the same label helps, and I'm just such a fan of Liam, and Boy Golden, of course. He's a brilliant mind, and I just wanted to work with somebody who, like all the great producers I've worked with, just feels music in that special way. We kind of warmed up to it, you know, we did a couple of songs together for Spotify, and then we ended up doing some Christmas music together, and then it was kind of natural to make a record together. We went that route, and it was really great. He's such a huge part of why this record sounds the way it does, he really was the glue for it all.

Unfortunately Lonesome Highway haven't had access to the full new album FURTHER FROM THE COUNTRY yet, but I understand from the couple of tracks that I've heard that it differs significantly in sound from your previous recordings?

Yeah, I was thinking more volume and a little more speed, a little more flash. I think the opening (title) track would kind of answer all that. You know, as you get to these places in the world, you kind of want songs that will move a crowd this size, and it's just opened my eyes to leaning into more influences. I grew up on rock and roll and country rock and as much as I love Johnny Cash and Kristofferson and all those guys, Dwight Yoakam was in there too ... and there's a little bit of everything on this record. It leans into all my influences, rather than tries to shutter them away or anything. It's a natural progression. Everybody around me is saying it's a very different record for me, but I honestly feel it's the most authentic to me that it's ever been.

Liam's own sound is obviously very different from yours and I would never have put the two of you together. Does he have a background in music engineering or production?

Those kids come from the school of making their own music, and so you naturally become an engineer, you become more knowledgeable, and all that stuff. And he's made all his own records and plays a lot of the parts on them, and he's just so cool. I wanted a bit of that to come and challenge my writing a bit, so I brought him all the completed songs. And then from there, we kind of chose different pieces of clothing for them to wear. So it's a very stylish record. We're looking for the next generation of audience that is gonna keep standing at the show and keep coming out to the show. I can't bank on what's left. I was hoping to fall in the same category as all my heroes, like Willie Nelson, but Willie is 90 years old, and there'll never be another Willie. There can only be me, myself, as William, and so Liam really helped me explore all that kind of stuff and keep it interesting. Having written a couple of hundred songs, I got to the point where my hands, my body, my mouth, everything just wants to do something different. If you're a good writer like that, you'll naturally seek something more interesting. So, it's really trying to impress myself now on album number five, that's always the first box to tick. Do I like this? Am I passionate about this? Are we gonna be happy singing this for the next two years?

And earlier in your career, would you have not felt the same way? Would you have taken a back seat and been led by producers or record labels? I imagined you would always have had control?

Yeah, I've always had hands on the wheel. And, writing all the songs helps with that. This record, I think I had a big inclination towards the natural tones of everything, so it was kind of like Hank Williams - let's put a mic in the middle of the room and capture this as naturally, as organically, as 'log cabin' as possible. But at same time, it's 2025, and the way to make music, and what you can do with music, is as involved and advanced as it's ever been. And so, I wanted to explore some different sounds, like electric guitars. It's kind of in the same vein of, well, not even that radical, but it's the year of 'Dylan goes electric', Highway 61. There's still storytelling at the heart of it, though. These are stories of my origin. I'm in a lot better place now, I'm happier, my career is in a much better place. And I just got married, I have a nine year old son that I love. So, on the personal front, I'm really satisfied. I'm really healing, more and more.

So you've been through hell and come out the other side?

Yeah and so the shit you've been through, you can kind of look back and comment on, with almost a layer removed from it. A big theme around the new track, For The First Time, is it don't break me like it used to. The whole idea is that I can go back and talk about some of these things. The concept of FURTHER FROM THE COUNTRY is realizing where I come from, a small community, the Peguis First Nation, to where I am in my life now, to looking to where we want to be - like in Midland's shoes here tonight, playing this room, playing all the rooms that they've played, and bringing a band and a crew. There's so much further to go, there's still a great distance in which to travel. I want to make music that's going to help warp speed us there a little more. And that's what I think this record will help do. And it really adds to the live show dynamic. It picks up the pace, injects a little boogie, a little blood. That's what I want. I want to feel alive when I'm out there. I'm in a very special place that I, for a short time, can help people escape and so those core songs about family and love and grief and gratitude, it's still all there. It's just painted in a different kind of texture. It gives me something to look forward to, knowing how far I have to go.

You've got great stagecraft, you're well able to hold an audience in the palm of your hand. Has that always been there, or has that been something you've had to work at, just by playing out over the years?

Like I say, you put your 10,000 hours into something, and it slowly starts to look more natural to the passerby and it comes from a lot of hard work, by playing the cafes and always writing and performing. But, you know, I had a great teacher. My dad was a very confident speaker and he was also a chairman of Alcoholics Anonymous. Then he got back into preaching, to bring our family back together, to get our lives back on track. My parents went through a lot and separated for a short time, and no one really knows this. So the church was a way to kind of bring us back together. And then I just wanted to be with him in the country band. I always wanted to impress him and live up to his expectations because he was my best friend, and he was a great, great dad. And so I was lugging amps around, tuning guitars and playing in his country band as a kid, helping them sell CDs at shows, and it really helped shape the path I'm walking today.

Can you tell me a bit more about the Peguis First Nation? Was it pretty unusual for members to become Christian? (William proceeded to give me a pronunciation lesson - it's 'peg-wis'!)

The whole Christianity thing and its relationship with First Nations people, Indigenous people, in Canada is very complicated, as you might know. I can't fault what those kind of institutions can help people get through, when you have nothing, when it feels like you're out of options and there's somebody in the universe to turn to to make you feel less lonely. I can't knock that because I've lived in that spot for a long time. My grandfathers were all preachers, and one of the oldest churches in Peguis is the Peguis Memorial Chapel. It stems from my namesake, my great-grandfather Chief Peguis, and he met Queen Victoria in the late 1800s when they were signing the treaties of 1871. He had four wives at the time, and took on this new face of Christianity, changed his traditional name to William King, the King of the Indians, and from that, he asked Queen Victoria 'what do you call your sons'? And she said, 'Well, all my sons are princes', so the surname Prince stemmed from that meeting. So Chief Peguis, aka William King, chose one wife, who was my grandmother and made a family, and that's where the lineage of chiefs from the last 50-60 years came from:- it's my grandfather Albert Prince, William Prince, Edward Prince, George Prince and so forth. And then with democracy, they decided to bring about the public vote so that the community could elect their leader. That was good foresight, I think.

What size nation is it currently?

The land mass itself is 75,000 square kilometers, and the actual number of people that would be affiliated is pushing 14,000 by now, but only 7,000 - 8,000  live on the reserves. I'd say it's about a 50:50 split now of people living off reserve. They have to do that to find better housing, to find better jobs, education, these things are not readily available in the community where I'm from.

Did your father speak the native language?

He spoke pieces of traditional language from his parents and my great aunt, so once in a while he would say a phrase or a word and teach me a little bit.

But there are still people speaking it?

For sure, but it's definitely a dying language. So, it's up to this very interesting new generation to harbour that responsibility. I don't know if it's gonna last.

How do you look after your voice when you're doing a lot of touring and generally playing out? Do you have to avoid late nights and alcohol?

Well, I'm very lucky that my voice has held up with not the best care! I have some bigger moments in a couple of songs, but I go out there and it's mostly just the elevated version of my speaking. Hydration, you know, boring as it gets and you just gotta sleep and take care of it.

I can have one whiskey night, one or two, no more than that. I won't try to push it more than that  because I start to notice my voice thins out a bit. And I quit smoking cigarettes coming up on six years ago now, and I'm so thankful that I stopped and it's helping.

I know you play a lot of golf. I suppose you don't get to play when you're touring?

Well, just just recently in Canada, we found a couple rounds. I've golfed way up in Dawson City in the far vast corner of Canada, and the Top of the World Golf Course, and I went to Yellowknife and golfed. Just recently in Ontario I managed to squeeze in a few holes with my my guitar player. But I would love for that whole system to happen where we pull into town, get a good sleep, and we can be on a tee box by 8:30am, and then back in time for sound check after nine holes. You're in the land here, Rory McIlroy is home-grown!

You say you're in a really good place now. How does that affect your songwriting? Does that mean we're going to get nothing but boring happy songs from William Prince from now on?!

Funny how happiness is ‘boring’ ... unless you're swimming in pain, unless you're unless you ARE drinking five nights a week, or you ARE out there missing your family? I don't believe that suffrage makes great art. Being happy is still a very active process for me and still choosing to get up, and I have all these imprinted things that I don't want to live with forever. That's just part of how I was raised, and the effects of that intergenerational trauma on my parents, mostly my dad, and his mood would affect the whole house -  that's not the kind of life or house I want to have for my wife and son.  He was a great dad, but you knew when he was upset, and he'd be upset a while, and so would we. So, choosing a happy, boring song is more work than just laying back into sad memories or why everything is so fucked up these days and really disappointing in terms of a lot of our leadership, in terms of a lot of our family connections and just how the world is spinning these days. Attention spans are getting shorter, less and less importance is being placed on the actual art itself and more on the content around it. Also the quality of song is changing because of the change in how we receive music and what music even makes money. I think about this all the time, how we're subjected to some of the most mundane, boring music on the day to day. You walk through the pharmacy, you're in the airport, you're in a popular chain restaurant, and there's a dozen artists that you're forced to listen to all day long every day, and I don't know why we can't just turn around and look inward and say, we can make this better for the future. This might be one of the shittiest generations of music there's ever been, and it's sad because of how far the technology for it has come. Pop music will always be that way. I got to be careful what I say there, because I admire and love so much music. But yeah, popular music, for sure, is not really trying hard to change things. That's why I love that nostalgia is going to save the music industry and the movie industry. Oasis and Radiohead going on tour, and Pearl Jam's still out there kicking and you see the difference in the show between actual hard working rock music icons and TikTok icons who seem to be born every day. There are children with a far more vast following than I'll probably ever have, just because there's a machine behind them, and it's cheating. I climb the battle of being First Nations, almost 40 years old, and I'm writing old country songs versus there's a pop package out there, every week there's somebody new, and it's a world driven by a lot of white supremacy and a lot of people in charge selling back to their audience representations of their core audience, and so it's tough. That's why I love where I'm at today. My songs got me here opening for this great band and being a part of this tour and us becoming friends and sharing great songs on stage. So I still hold out that good faith for it. There's a lot of great music out there too that is refusing to bend and give way, and I hope I fit in that category for all of my days.

Interview by Eilís Boland

Interview with Hunter Pinkston (The Pink Stones)

‘The band was built on reimagining tradition, on honouring the old ways while pushing them someplace new,” is how Athens, Georgia band The Pink Stones are described on their website. With their feet firmly in the traditional country music groove, the band’s third album THANK THE LORD...IT’S THE PINK STONES revisits the classic country sound of the 1960s with songs that recall the best recordings of Gram Parsons, Louvin Brothers, and Porter Wagoner. But much more than simply a tribute band, their own unique identity is stamped firmly on their material, as was also the case with their two previous albums, INTRODUCING THE PINK STONES (2021) and YOU KNOW WHO (2023). We recently spoke with band leader and songwriter Hunter Pinkston about the new album, his early influences, and his passion for artwork, as well as songwriting.

I understand that your father played in bands when you were growing up. Was that your early introduction to music?

Yes, he played drums in some bands in the late 70s. He was born and raised in Georgia and really into all the Georgia stuff, The Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd. But he also taught me about Otis Redding, James Brown and Little Richard.

I presume you were not listening to country music back then?

Definitely not. When I was a teenager, I rejected country music. Living where I lived, you couldn’t go into a grocery store without hearing country music. It’s the same nowadays, except it’s the new kind of country music, which I still reject very much. When I was young, I wasn’t ready for country music. As a kid, the first band t-shirt I had was The Ramones, because my dad used to wear a Sex Pistols t-shirt; he loved the late 70s punk rock thing.

There are many similarities between punk and where you are now, in country music.

There are, and I’m often asked the question as to how I made the switch from punk to country. As I've grown older, I’ve found them to be more and more similar, particularly in their lyrics and music content. When you look back at how people like Bob Willis did their thing, those guys were travelling and playing every night, just as punk rockers were doing decades later. They weren’t playing the same music, but they were doing the same thing.

Was there a particular artist or band that brought you back to country music?

It was Gram Parsons’ stuff that was the big push. When I got his LPs and read on the back that RONNIE and James Burton had played on those albums, I started digging further. I heard stories about how Merle Haggard was going to produce Gram Parsons, which also opened my eyes and led me to finding older stuff that I hadn’t listened to before.

What is the current Pink Stones lineup?

We just got off the road a few days ago after a ten-day tour. The band consists of me playing guitar and singing, Adam Wayton, who has been with me since the beginning, on bass, Michael Alexander, our new drummer, and Caleb Boese playing pedal steel.

Your debut EP, JIMMY & JESUS, from 2019, was a blend of country and power pop, before you went full country with your full album, INDRODUCING…THE PINK STONES in 2021.

At that point in my life, around 2019, I was more into power pop than I am now. I still like it, but don’t listen to it as much.  I love Big Star and Teenage Fanclub, and in 2018, when JIMMY & JESUS was recorded, I was still trying to figure out what direction I wanted the band to take. The debut album steered away from rock and roll and more into cosmic country.

The new album, THANK THE LORD…IT’S THE PINK STONES, travels in a more classic country direction.

Yes, I wanted to lean more on the acoustic guitar and less on the electric guitar. Caleb Boese’s playing of the steel guitar also changed our sound and made us go further back in time. His style of playing leans more towards a 1960s sound, and when we started making the record, I thought that maybe we should go a bit more traditional this time. And I think it worked; there are still some weird moments on the record, like many of the '60s country records had. When you listen to some of Porter Wagoner’s records, there is a lot of weird stuff going on.

That’s interesting because the track on the album, Hometown Hotel, struck me as a typical Wagoner-style song of small-town infidelity.

I love all his stuff; I’ve studied him from the beginning to the end and find him super interesting. The people playing on his records are incredible; they’re so cool. He tried some weird stuff; the first one that comes to mind is Rubber Room, what a bizarre song. We played this club outside Detroit the other night, and they had a jukebox in the green room, and that song was on it.

And to think that Porter Wagoner was ‘pop music’ in the 60s, despite writing and recording a lot of very dark material.

Sure, but everything has started to regress in the modern world. Even back in the old days in Nashville, you had professional songwriters, but it was totally different from today. There was much more attention to writing good songs back then. These days, if you force something in people’s ears for long enough, they’re going to believe it, and that’s true of modern country music, too.

Returning to the new album, the cover graphic features you poised in front of a church, casting a shadow that displays a pair of devil horns. The image recalls the religious expression depicted on the album cover from The Louvin Brothers' 1959 SATAN IS REAL.

That wasn’t intentional. I’m a huge fan of the Louvin Brothers; Gram Parsons sent me down that path when I was about twenty-one. When we shot the cover with our photographer, we visited a church outside town to take the photos. We had this other vision that was going to be me in the archway of the church, and the letters of the album were going to wrap around the archway. We ended up losing light, which cast my shadow, which looked cool. So, it was a case of scratching the first idea, and Taylor Rushing, the guy who does our artwork, sent the image back to us with the devil's shadow.

The artwork on your three full albums provides a hint at what the listener can expect before listening to the records. Is that important for you?

Yes, I’m a massive Grateful Dead fan, and they are the big one for me when it comes to cool artwork. Their album MARS HOTEL, my favourite of their records, is a great example. It’s crazy and weird, and this is how that record sounds.  I want to walk into a record store and be struck by the album covers, and I will often buy the album if the artwork is interesting. I try to match the records with the artwork. It’s a different world these days with streaming, but Taylor Rushing, who does our covers, has done beautiful and striking covers. His artwork on Sierra Ferrell’s album TRAIL OF FLOWERS is amazing.

East Nashville rising bluegrass star, Wyatt Ellis, plays mandolin and adds backing vocals on the title track. How did that connection come about?

Well, we live in the digital age now, where everybody seems to know everybody. Because I’m a huge bluegrass listener and lover, I have been a fan of Wyatt for a while. Taylor (Rushing) had been doing some work for Wyatt and suggested that I try to meet him sometime. I cold messaged him and told him we were making a record and would love him to be part of it, and he immediately got on board. It worked out well for both of us because he is getting into The Byrds and Clarence White, which is where my band started, and we are now trying to do more traditional country stuff. So, it was a weird meeting of minds.

Much of the material on the album is dark, with infidelity and regret at the core of many of the songs. It’s not quite a Saturday night listen, like your earlier work.

It’s funny, we play live so much, and that comes with having to play fast to keep people dancing and excited. I was pretty laid-back while working on this record, but I wasn’t intentionally making it a slow record. With the songs I was writing, that’s just the way it ended up. I have enough material out there that rocks and is fast to mix with the slower ones.

I particularly like the track Summer’s Love (Winter’s Pain). It’s a classic heartbreak song.

We have been playing that song live for a while, and it was one of the earliest songs written for the album. It took me back to summer love, with acoustic guitar and 60s pedal steel. It was going to be one of the first singles, but when I had written, Real Sad Movie, Big Jet Planes and we had finished recording, we ran with that song instead.

Where did you record the album?

We made it at the same studio as the other two albums. Henry Barbie, who produced all the records, has a home studio in Athens called Chase Park. We trust him, he’s a great engineer, and I love the way his studio sounds. 

Interview by Declan Culliton

Kathleen Edwards Interview

For her sixth studio album, BILLIONAIRE, Kathleen Edwards headed to Tennessee to work with two of Nashville’s current-day biggest hitters, Jason Isbell and Gena Johnson. The production and recording experience with them may have drawn Edwards out of her comfort zone, working with two individuals with reputations for a fast turnover. The result was a triumph, resulting in an album that is arguably her finest to date. We spoke with a hugely enthusiastic Edwards on her record release day about the album and her joy of getting back on the road with her full band.

Firstly, happy record release day.

Oh, thank you. Yes, my phone has been lighting up today, and I feel very, very lucky about it all.

Where are you at present?

I'm in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I have three shows here, opening for one of my favourite Canadian musicians, a guy named Matt Mays.

Do you have a band with you for the shows?

Yeah, I am playing with my five-piece band, which is lovely. I did a lot of duo and trio shows in the last two years at some of these smaller venues to sort of revisit places I hadn't been in a long time, but now I really want to do a rock and roll show, so I'm travelling with a big group these days. 

You are spitting fire on a number of the songs on the new album, BILLIONNAIRE. Are the songs directed at specific individuals?

I was saying to somebody earlier today because they asked me something similar. You know, it's like when you're walking down the street and someone says something rude to you and you don't think of a good comeback until twenty minutes later, and they'll never hear it. And with songs, I have time to ruminate and to carve out my thoughts, and sometimes you use metaphors and storylines to soothe yourself from an experience or a conversation or a person.

Your writing has always been deeply personal.

My songs are always pieces of me, even when I think I'm writing about somebody else, for sure.  I think a lot of people have found the last five years to be very challenging in that it really tested people's idea of what they thought their world looked like. For me, I’ve always been an independent, self-sustaining, entrepreneurial person. I had a career in music very early on, and that was because I wrote songs and toured, and if I didn't show up, no one wrote a cheque. And you know, as small as that cheque might be, that's just the reality. The same was true about opening a coffee shop. No one opened it for me and handed me the keys. I did it and I paid for it, and I'm the one who chose the flooring and the equipment. I'm the one who had to pay for it when it broke down. This record started out from that place. That's one of the big things that I confronted early on when I was writing this record. I'm in my mid to late 40s now, and I think that you confront some hard truths about your willingness to accept certain things even from friends or family, or even from yourself, and drawing lines in the sand become easier to do when you get older. You're prepared to give less of a fuck when someone has a problem with you, because you know yourself better. So, it's all those things mixed up together when my little teeth come out.

Is the title of the album an effort to highlight the contradiction that the term BILLIONAIRE can suggest?

Yeah, absolutely. Everyone says, you know, billionaires shouldn't exist. Well, you know, everyone sure loved ordering something to their door in the last five years. People sure did want to save the world and drive electric cars. Another billionaire successfully made that possible. The truth is, many wealthy people in this world also give a lot of their wealth back. No issue is black and white, and in my life, I've decided that what right do I have to judge another person about the choices they make that are best for them or their families?

You worked with two big hitters on the production this time, Jason Isbell and Gena Johnson.

Well, Jason, so generously and incredibly offered to produce my record, and when we listed the broad strokes of how that might happen, he proposed that he bring the people that he works with to the project. And of course, I was thrilled and very willing to let him take me wherever he wanted to go. Gena comes with Jason because she's such an accomplished and exquisite recording engineer and mixer and ended up co-producing the record. Her contribution continued to be more than just a recording engineer. She came into Jason's life through Dave Cobb, who produced some extraordinary records, including many of Jason's early ones. She was part of Dave Cobb's team, went out on her own, and is now considered one of the top people in her field, particularly in Nashville. She's amazing to work with. This will be my sixth record, and it was the first time I worked with a woman engineer, a woman mixer and a woman co-producer, and my God, was it a revelation. It was wonderful. It was a lovely, lovely thing to do.

They both have a reputation for working quickly.

They do, and that was really hard for me. I think the biggest challenge was accepting that we wouldn't spend months tweaking and working on things. I had previously made a lot of records in that way, and Jason has a very busy calendar. And I learned that even though there were times where it really pushed me outside of my comfort zone, I learned a tremendous amount about how you can waste a lot of time worrying about details that don't matter. Jason and Gena really did teach me that, and I'm incredibly thankful for that, because it was not always easy for me; to be honest, it was hard. It was like, What do you mean? We're going to make a record in a week? That's insane. So, kudos to him for that approach, and I may or may not enlist that approach going forward, but I learned that despite being very uncomfortable when it was happening, it was truly a great approach.

I love the lyrics' you can get blisters from your favourite shoes' on the track Say Goodbye, Tell No One. It says so much in so few words.

I think it's true that just because your favourite shoes give you a blister doesn't mean you still shouldn't put them on.  I think it's often true in friendships, you know, your closest friends are the ones that can also hurt you because they know you so well. It doesn't mean that you're not still going to have them there in your corner. I think that's one of the things that's hard about friendships, family and relationships, people who love us the most are the ones who are also the ones capable of hurting us the most, and I think that's what I was trying to say.

I particularly love the track Need A Ride. Its tempo and emotionally charged lyrics remind me of another favourite of mine, Goodnight California from the ASKING FOR FLOWERS album.

When we recorded Goodnight California, it was just a moment in time, and when you record a song, you never know which ones will endure, and the songs that take on a new life as you play them live and get to know them. And Goodnight California, we play almost every night. I've had many people tell me, either online or in person, that it was the first song of mine they heard, and they were entrapped.  It was just a little bit of a coincidence that Need A Ride sounds like that, but it ended up being like that, and it just felt like the right way to present the lyrics that I wrote originally. I had written the song as a very John Prine sort of folk, sort of a humorous takeaway. But I really wanted to feel the weight of the Les Paul Jr, and the drums and the bass, because it's a song that I was angry when I wrote it, and so it felt like the right instrumentation for it.

I do recall you restarting Goodnight California in Dublin some years ago because someone in the audience was talking. You told him to 'shut the fuck up' if I remember correctly.

Well, I did fly all the way to Ireland to play music. So maybe that's not too unfair.

As well as Gena Johnson, you also engaged two other powerful-willed women on the album, sisters Allison Moorer and Shelby Lynne. Had you known them previously?

Yes, Allison and I became acquainted when she was still married to Steve Earle, and she has always just been so generous and complimentary about how much she liked my work. And Allison is very profoundly interesting, and she has a lot of gravitas from her life, and I respect her tremendously. She became somebody I remained close to in different times of our lives. We had some really similar things happen to us, we were both married to musicians who were a lot older than us, and we just had a lot of friends in common. I really wanted someone to sing on the record, and needed some vocals, and asked her, and she made herself available, which was so generous of her. She's a very generous friend. I admire her tremendously, and she enlisted her sister, whom I obviously hold in such high esteem. There is no one like Shelby Lynne, and her voice is unique. The work that she's done is unique. Their story as sisters is so unique and beautiful and also heartbreaking. They are survivors who have persevered, and the fact that they're on my record blows me away.

You didn't have the opportunity to tour the last album, TOTAL FREEDOM, due to COVID. Are you excited about getting on the road with BILLIONNAIRE now?

You have no idea, yes, tremendously. Everyone had things they had planned to do that they had to put on a shelf somewhere. You work for several years, and you spend a lot of money to make a new record. When TOTAL FREEDOM came out, it was hard to realise that it would be years before we would be out playing again. I said to a friend years ago that it was kind of like you had to grieve this thing that you put two years of work into, that you just knew you weren't going to see it through in a way that you had spent many hours preparing yourself for. So, I am very hungry to be on tour and to be playing these songs with my band. I feel like I've arrived at the best version of myself musically, and my capacity to sing. I've taken voice lessons, I have a world-class band, and it's so lovely to get on stage with people you love playing with and that you know you're putting on your best show with. It's fun.

You seem to come alive on stage. Is that hard work, or does that just become natural to you?

I think it must just come naturally. I don't tell myself that I'm going to become somebody different when I go on stage. There is that feeling of adrenaline that you're excited to show people what you can do. Even when I was little, my mom had me in violin lessons, and until I finished high school, I performed classical violin. I was in orchestras; I did music competitions. You do your grades, so you perform at the end of every year to get a score on your grades, and in music, and I was always very, in some ways, very comfortable being on stage. But the difference with playing your own songs is that you wonder if they will land, and you may have to have that armour when you go on stage for being vulnerable in front of others.

How has success and stardom sat with you over the years? Are you comfortable with it?

I don't see myself in that way, but one of the things that was incredibly healthy, not just for my ego, but for my soul in general, was to run a cafe for eight years. I was the person behind the counter, the person who cleaned the toilets, and the person who made the sandwiches, not in that order. It really allowed me not to always be the person who was engaging with a stranger because they knew my music, and I really enjoyed that tremendously. I built relationships with people based on me just being there every day and making coffee and running a business, instead of being the person who was put up on some pedestal because they bought a ticket to my show.

Is this your career going forward, or might you take a left turn again and do something else other than music?

No, I don't think so. I have enough songs to do another two records. I was not a prolific writer before, but in 2023 and the last year, I've written more than I ever did for the sake of just writing songs. And I'm excited to do another record or two like tomorrow, but I'm thrilled about this record, and I'm excited to play it, and so I don't really have any other things I want to do. And the truth is, I moved to Florida a couple of years ago, and so I feel a little bit like when I'm home, I'm on vacation, because that's what my surroundings look like. So, I feel like I've got a better life balance. I want to play music, and then when I'm home, I really have time to recover from it, and it's a better balance overall.

Do you recall your first shows in Ireland at The Kilkenny Roots Festival in 2003?

Yes. Do you know who I met that day? I'll never forget it. I met Laura Cantrell and her husband, Jeremy Tepper, who was on tour with her. It was the first time I met them. Jeremy went on to become the executive producer of Sirius XM outlaw country, which became a huge part of my world, the people that I loved, and I was welcomed into the outlaw country family, which was incredible, and played the outlaw country cruise. I just saw Laura recently at the opening of Lucinda Williams' new bar in New York City. She performed that day, and we both reminisced about the day we met in Ireland, and how I've thought about that day many times since.

Interview by Declan Culliton

Jesse Lovelock Interview

It is interesting and perhaps symptomatic of continuously changing times that one of the best albums releases this year is a contemporary take on a classic sound in country music  - The Nashville Sound (also known as Countrypolitan) - because I when stared to listen to traditional country it as the stripped-down hardcore honky-tonk and Bakersfield sound that drew me in. The music of the mainstream had little appeal at that time. But although it was railed against at the time by many, it has achieved a place and understanding in my listening experience. I still find it too saccharine in many examples, but the best is a sound unto itself. In recent times, there have been a number of exponents who have worked with the elements of that sound to create something of lasting integrity. Jesse Lovelock is one of those people, if not the best to date, and has released a single, Misty Blue online, while his debut album can be listened to on certain platforms too. It will doubtless be available to download and buy in time. We at Lonesome Highway took the opportunity to ask Jesse some questions about his and the album’s background.

Can you tell us a little about your background growing up?

I was born at home in Jamul, CA, in 1987. When I was three months old, my mother took me on a trip to visit my grandmother, but ended up abandoning me in Big Sur. Luckily, housekeeping found me and contacted my dad, who came up to bring me back. Since then, I haven’t seen my mother. My dad struggled on his own. My sister and I spent time in foster care while my dad worked to get his life together. He eventually managed to do so, but fell in and out of darkness along the way. I grew up fast, but I grew up right. There were good times and very bad times. I’m not the only one with that story.

What were the influences, country or otherwise, that shaped you at the time?

During that period in music, the bar was set incredibly high. We’re all trying to catch up now. While I may not have reached that bar, I definitely reached for it. I drew inspiration from artists like Pete Drake, Jean Shepard, Faron Young, Jim Reeves, Slim Whitman, and Ronnie Dove, to name a few. I have a ton of records. While you may not hear it in this project, I’ve also been heavily influenced by blues and soul singers. I was listening to the Four Tops, The Platters, and Jimmy Ruffin back in fifth grade. You might catch some of that influence in the future.

When did you begin to carve out your musical path, and what motivated you?

I believe it started as my form of escapism - trying to create beauty to mask the challenges of a broken home. I immersed myself in the arts, both visually and audibly. I remember humming melodies during my 40-minute walk home from school, zoning in on the cracks in the pavement as I hummed and whistled. Honestly, I absolutely disliked school.

When did you become drawn to the countrypolitan sound, and what specifically about it appealed to you?

Jim Reeves, Slim Whitman, and Ronnie Dove were not just my favourite singers; they also had my favorite arrangements. My aunt Cindy gifted me a jukebox for my 18th birthday, filled with those sounds. I found it to be the most compelling sonic experience in country music. She wouldn’t let me take the jukebox home until I had a permanent place for it, and I finally got it 20 years after.

The production on the album is very detailed and carefully thought through. How easy was that?

I had a vision and I could hear it before it was done. I’ve had this vision for a very long time, 2010 … or so. I waited for people ... I don’t do that anymore. I brought in a few people who could help me with that vision. That was easy. The hard part was coming in and trying to sing after welding and grinding all day. You can hear the fatigue in my voice. It was also my first time recording my voice in a real studio environment, so there’s that.

Who were the players involved in the recording?

Reggie Duncan, Jake Duncan, Mark Lewis and singers Ashley Rose and Sandy Cruz

Was there any aspect you would have changed aesthetically or because of financial restraints?

Absolutely. Oh yeah. It fell short in my ears on a couple of levels, but overall, I’m happy with what I created. I produced this record myself.

What is your thinking now that the album is out there about how to get it across to its potential audience?

I’m not good at that part. That’s for data people and number crunchers. I’m just going to try and write better songs, stay authentic and build relationships with good people.

Have you any thoughts about doing some live performances?

I have an idea of what that would look like. It’s not going to be what anyone would expect, that’s all I’ll say!

Is this the direction you’d like to explore further, or are you considering a different course for future releases?

Definitely more in this vein!  But I want to see what else emerges from me. I’m also excited about the possibility of collaborating with new people.

There has often been a negative reaction to artists who try to recreate the music of an earlier era, with the belief that the classics already exist, so there’s no need to do it again. What’s your take on this?

I understand that perspective. In many ways, I agree. The goal should be to create inspired work from those influences, and I hope that’s what you’re hearing on this record. It’s abstract traditionalism, really. Or at least that’s what I’m hearing. 

In many ways the album speaks for itself and offers something that may not have been on a listener’s radar before. Was that the intention, or was it something closer to home to simply record something that you loved for yourself?

Both, but like I said, even though I wasn’t putting myself out there for all these years, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t onto something early when it comes to this style of music. I had a conversation with Lou Reed when I worked at the Standard Grill in Manhattan and he gave me advice to do my work “quietly like snow” I liked that. Check this picture out below!

Picture of Lou Reeds pancakes after the advice he gave me just a few months before passing

Which current or more recent artists do you admire?

I haven’t followed contemporary artists for quite some time, but recently I’ve come across a few I really admire. Will Worden, Phil Hollie and Erik Shicotte are a few of them. I also have to mention Joel Alme from Sweden; his 2010 album, WAITING FOR THE BELLS, is truly incredible.

Do you think it’s a good time to release music in the age of streaming?

Absolutely ... I believe it’s the best time for independent artists to share their work.

What does the immediate future hold for Jesse Lovelock and the Velvet Voices?

I prefer not to speculate on things that may not happen, but if I get the chance to work with the person I’ve been in discussions with, it’ll be truly remarkable.

Interview by Stephen Rapid