Showing posts with label Jason Eady. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jason Eady. Show all posts
Feb 22, 2023
Courtney Patton (ft. Jason Eady) / "Night Like the Old Days" / Mile 0 Fest
Labels:
Courtney Patton,
Jason Eady,
Live performances,
Mile 0 Fest
Dec 21, 2021
Farce the Music's Top 26 Songs of 2021
~Trailer
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1. Jason Eady - French Summer Sun
2. James McMurtry - Canola Fields
3. Morgan Wade - Wilder Days
4. The Steel Woods - Run On Ahead
5. Emily Scott Robinson - Let ‘Em Burn
6. Sierra Ferrell - West Virginia Waltz
7. Mastodon - Gigantium
8. Allison Russell - Nightflyer
9. Charles Wesley Godwin - Needle Fall Down
10. Red Shahan - Pipe Dream
#’s 11-26 (not ranked)
Linked to videos/songs.
Sep 17, 2021
Aug 20, 2020
Jul 28, 2020
Oct 15, 2019
Courtney Patton & Jason Eady Perform "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain"
Labels:
Courtney Patton,
Jason Eady,
Live performances,
Willie Nelson
Dec 17, 2018
Broughton's Top 17 Albums of 2018
I'll be posting a few of our contributor ballots for our official Top 25 of 2018 over the next few days. Here's Kevin Broughton's top 17 albums of 2018.
There's a playlist of songs from each album below.
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1. Western Centuries, Songs From the Deluge
Great musicianship from the closest thing to a country super-group 2018 has seen. These guys are all heavily grounded in bluegrass, yet this album synthesizes all the best parts of American roots music. Come for the three-headed monster of vocals and songwriting, stay for the pedal steel.
2. Ruston Kelly, Dying Star – One for the misfits, but who among us isn’t one. At times depressing, funny and hopeful, and with a dash of redemptive potential. And it’s oh, so very pleasing to the ear. Comparisons to Ryan Adams are inevitable. So far, though, Mr. Kelly doesn’t seem to be a full-of-himself douche.
3. Handsome Jack, Everything’s Gonna Be Alright
The best rock ‘n’ roll album of 2018, from a power trio in Buffalo, N.Y. The Robinson bros. might have killed the Black Crowes, but the spirit of the band breathes through these guys.
4. Caleb Caudle, Crushed Coins
A fantastic Americana album, and the second on my list that will draw the inevitable Ryan Adams comparisons. (I’m reminded in particular of the last Whiskeytown record.) And that’s a good thing; quality songwriting understated instrumentation and great vocals.
5. Donna The Buffalo, Dance in the Street
From way, way off the radar. A long-running band of upstate New Yorkers, steeped in old, traditional music – yet with a jam-band ethos. They teamed up with Rob Fraboni, who’s produced and/or engineered Dylan, The Band, Clapton, the Stones and the Beach Boys. The result is fine, and irresistible. If I’d heard this album sooner in the year, it’d be higher on the list.
6. Dirty River Boys, Mesa Starlight
These Texans have me captivated with their Scots-Irish fire. They’re almost an American version of the Pogues, grabbing you at the beginning with “Wild of Her Eyes.” High energy and lots of fun.
7. Cody Jinks, Lifers
Cody is just taunting the Satanists running Nashville now, showing these soulless, undead beings what a country record could be on their radio stations.
8. Blackberry Smoke, Find A Light
These guys are working hard. Consecutive years with top-flight albums, they retain their Southern rock identity without being chained to it. This is an all-American band.
9. Adam Hood, Somewhere in Between
Sweet songwriting and great arrangements from this Alabama transplant to Texas. An all-around feel-good record. As can be said about his brothers Cobb and Eady.
10. Brent Cobb, Providence Canyon
A great follow-up to 2016’s “Shine On Rainy Day.” The last three songs of that record were swampy and a little menacing, a thread woven through this album, particularly on “If I Don’t See Ya’” and “.30-06,” with their bad-boy Skynyrd feel. But when I hear “King of Alabama,” I’ll always remember the one time I got to see a then-fledgling musician, Wayne Mills. It was in Tuscaloosa in 2002, the night before heavy underdog Auburn beat Alabama 17-7. I was blown away then by the guy’s talent, and to this day I regret I never saw him again. No one that night or any other would ever dream of his fate: “It was a friend who took him from his family.” Cobb has done Mills fitting memorial, and made another great album.
11. Jason Eady, I Travel On
As tough as it was, Eady has topped his self-titled album of 2017, with the help of some bluegrass ringers. He calls it “groove grass,” and it’s a perfect description of what he’s done on his best album yet.
12. Great Peacock, Gran Pavo Real
These guys make great rock music that floats between ethereal and driving. I’ve been a “back-row Baptist.” But the guy with “stories to tell” is FTM’s Matthew Martin who got to review them…playing his wedding. SMH.
13. Sarah Shook & The Disarmers, Years
The accolades were quick and many for this serious, feisty, brassy single mom and her backing band’s breakthrough album. And they were all well deserved. Bloodshot Records’ crown jewel for 2018.
14. JP Harris, Sometimes Dogs Bark at Nothing
Great country music that we as a country need more of.
15. Nick Dittmeier & The Sawdusters, All Damn Day
Hoosiers! Hoosiers at the door with country music that would fit perfect on country radio. If only…
16. Hawks And Doves, From A White Hotel
The fact that this record got made, and the way it happened are a remarkable testament to the power of humility, grace and forgiveness. Kasey Anderson came out of prison and didn’t, well, just shrug it off. But he’s certainly made good on his vow to come back. This album gets better every time I listen to it.
17. The Bottle Rockets, Bit Logic
My boy Kasey put it best: Every few years, the Bottle Rockets crank out another reminder that they’re one of the most dependably great Americanalt.countryrock outfits of the last three decades and often, Ambel has been on board as producer and auxiliary Rocket. Their new album, Bit Logic, is just such a reminder — by turns acerbic, swaggering, and tender.
Aug 16, 2018
Really Dumb Country Reviews: August '18
These are real reviews from a popular digital music service.
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Cody Jinks - Lifers
Kane Brown - Lose It
FGL - Simple
![]() |
Huh? They were good before? ~Trailer |
Kane Brown - Weekend
Keith Urban - graffiti u
Amanda Shires - To the Sunset
Dan + Shay
Jason Eady - I Travel On
Mitchell Tenpenny - EP
Aug 10, 2018
Traveling On: A Conversation With Jason Eady
By Kevin Broughton
Jason Eady is a country artist with a bluegrass soul. He cut
his teeth with his stepfather in central Mississippi, going to picking parties
and bluegrass jams, but his six solo albums to date have all been in a traditional
country vein. But on the heels of his critically acclaimed self-titled 2017
record, Eady has gone fully unplugged and put his own unique, rocking stamp on
the bluegrass ethos. With help from an A-list duo from the genre, he’s made his
best album to date, I Travel On, released
today on Old Guitar Records.
It’s a good-time record made by a man at peace with himself
and the world. We chatted about being positive while staying authentic,
clearing out a Croatian bar in Paris, and jumping out of a perfectly good
airplane. And other stuff.

Well, this record and the last one seem pretty different,
but I think of the last record as a bridge to this one. Before the self-titled
album, I’d been very electric, with lots of steel guitar – country music.
Sonically, they were bigger productions – not huge, though – than the last
album. On the last one we kind of pulled it back; it was more of an acoustic
album. I Travel On is fully acoustic.
So I think there’s a sonic thread running through to it. And I had been wanting to move that
direction.
About three years ago we played a show in Bozeman, Montana.
And this room is fantastic; it’s one of those places everyone plays when they
go to Montana. But it is small. I
don’t know the actual capacity, but I would guess 30-40 people, and it’s wider
than it is deep, so there are only about four rows of chairs. And we started
bringing in all our gear, but the thought of cramming all those amps in just
seemed weird to me. So we grabbed all our acoustic guitars, stripped down the
drum kit and played the whole set that way. And it just sounded great. So I
went into the last album with that idea, and toured that way as well.
The first thing I
noticed on the opening cut, “I Lost My Mind in Carolina,” was that you brought
in a stud on acoustic guitar. Got a ringer on Dobro, too. Who are these guys,
and what was the recording process like?
Rob Ickes (dobro) and Trey Hensley (guitar) are the two
guys. And my favorite thing about this record is that it’s real and organic.
Our developed the sound by touring around and playing that way, where everybody
did their own natural thing. And we came up with a sound that’s sort of
bluegrass on the top end and a real groove on the bottom. While we were driving
around the country we listened to these guys – they’re a duo,
and they are absolute studs in the bluegrass world; their very first album
got nominated for a Grammy in the bluegrass category. They’re just phenomenal.
So as it came time to make this record, I wanted it to be
our live band, but I didn’t want there to be overdubs. I wanted the record to
sound like we’re all sitting in a room. Our lead player can do all those
things, but I didn’t want overdubs. So since we had been listening to them, and
I just called Trey and said, “Would you guys want to do this?” He said yes. It
came from a very real place; we didn’t just say, “Who are some studio badasses
we can call?” We tracked 100 percent live from top to bottom, no overdubs. Our
band would work them up the night before, but we had never played them with Rob
and Trey before we recorded. Everything you hear on this record is what you
would have heard if you had been standing in the room while we recorded.
Wow.
Yeah, I know!
There’s a real
blues/bluegrass feel to the whole thing.
I would never in the world set out and try to make a pure bluegrass record, because I have
way too much respect for the genre. To be in that world, you really have to
live it your whole life. You can’t dabble
in bluegrass. But yeah, it was a conscious thing we were going for; we’re
calling it “groove grass.” We wanted to hint at bluegrass, and people will
definitely hear that aspect of it, but with pure bluegrass you don’t have drums
or a bass guitar. “Groove grass” sums it up, really.
I want to get into
several specific songs in a minute, but something stands out on the album as a
whole and I’d like to get your take on it. Brent Cobb told me a couple of years
ago that it’s possible to write country or roots songs with authenticity and depth
without their all being sad and depressing. I think that’s rare, but it
certainly holds true for this album of yours – and to a large degree the last
one. What do you think of that premise?
You seem to be a pretty happy guy.
I am. And I love Brent, by the way, I think he’s one of the
best artists around today. Just incredible. But he’s right. And there’s that
temptation when you’re writing songs that you want to be authentic or real;
they can turn out depressing. But I wanted this album to feel good. There are
some points on the record where if you want to listen to words and dig into
meanings – and I worked hard on the words – there’s some depth to latch onto if
you want to listen to it that way. But I also wanted this to be a record that
you could just put on and play and enjoy.
I get that there’s a need for feel-good music, where you don’t have to
just think all the time. There are plenty of examples of people – like John
Prine and Paul Simon – who write great songs, but I don’t know what they mean
half the time. They just feel really good. Just put it on. Move your feet. Move
your head.
But Brent’s right; you have to pull yourself out of that
box, because it seems like there are two extremes in country music right now.
It’s either said and depressing, or it’s so fluffy, about drinking beer on the
river on the weekend.
Speaking of being a “Happy
Man,” there’s a song with that very title. Were you making a statement for the
record with that one?
I definitely was. I just wanted to get that out there. God
forbid if anything happened to me, anyone could listen to that song and know
that I’m a happy person and have lived a good life, and these are the reasons
why. Because when you boil it down, there’s really only a few things that make
you happy: There’s friends, there’s family, there’s doing what you love and the
experiences you have. Here, there are two verses with three things each that
make me happy. And at the end of it, I couldn’t think of anything else. The
simplicity of it was very intentional.
And the origin of it – I don’t want to drag this out but
this is a funny story – was overseas last year. We went to Paris, France to
play a festival and wound up in a Croatian bar right across from the Notre Dame
Cathedral. We could hear music playing inside that was lively, so we went in.
This was like a Tuesday night but there was a party going on, so we wandered
in. The bartender asks Courtney and me what we were doing there and we told him
we were musicians. He asks my name, and dials me up on Spotify, and just
started playing my music randomly, however that works. And it was just like three of my most
depressing songs, one after another.
Ha!
Yeah, man. Cleared out the bar. Everyone went outside to
smoke all at once. Killed the whole vibe of the room. I started getting depressed! And I thought, “Good gosh, if I heard
this for the first time I’d think this fellow is depressed, too. This guy’s got
problems.” So I wanted to get it out there, that it’s not the case. I’ve
written plenty of sad songs, but that’s just something I like to do sometimes.
And ironically, “Happy Man” is one of the slowest songs on the record.
About the only thing
that comes close to a downer on this album is “She Had to Run,” about a woman
getting out of a dangerous domestic situation. Is there a story behind that
song?
Yeah, I won’t go into the details of it because it’s a very
personal song, but one I needed to write. And I knew when I got ready to make
this album that this song would be the outlier, but it was too important to me.
I had to get that one on there. I just hope that maybe there’s one person who
hears it and thinks about getting out of a situation like that.
I won’t pry into
specifics, but let me ask: Does the person who inspired it know about the song?
She does. We haven’t talked about it a lot because it’s
still too close, too fresh. She got out, but it was frighteningly close. It was
so close that the next person who was with that guy didn’t get out.
“Always a Woman” is
intriguing. Tonally, it’s dark and in a minor key – by the way, is there
another chord, or just C minor?
That’s it, the whole way through.
Lyrically, it’s kind
of an ironic Valentine. “There’s only one thing between the devil and a good
man” is really clever, because it can mean two very different things.
Yeah, exactly.
Unpack that song for
me.
That’s the first song I wrote for this album, and the only
one where I had a title set beforehand. Courtney and I were hanging out with a
friend who was having a bad time and she asked what was the matter. He kind of
shrugged it off and she said, “Is it a woman?” He said, “It’s always a woman.”
I wrote that down, and I sat down with my guitar and just started droning on
that C minor chord. And it’s a very specific fingerpicking pattern that never
stops for four minutes; if you watch me play it my fingers [on the neck] never
move.
And like we were just talking about, I didn’t want to write
another sad song. So I had the first verse and thought, “This song has to turn.
‘Always a woman’ doesn’t have to mean good or bad.” So musically we used some
dynamics to change things up, and I tried to change that phrase from a positive
to a negative as well. And I think the whole theme of the record is finding the
positive in things and moving forward. And that’s why we called the album “I
Travel On.” It’s about moving forward. A lot of the songs are about physically
traveling; this one does it in a mental space.
And the
feedback/distortion thing is a nice backbone. Nothing electric there?
No! That’s the dobro player raking across the strings, and
the fiddle player doing it in some spots, muting his strings. Everybody thinks
there are electric instruments on that song and there aren’t. We had a
videographer come in and shoot while we were recording that song; you’ll see it
when it comes out.
And I guess you had
to include at least a couple waltzes to preserve domestic bliss. I take it
that’s your bride singing harmony on “Below The Waterline?”
Ha. Yeah, if you hear harmonies on this album there
Courtney’s. I’ve always wanted to write a bluegrass power waltz. I love those,
because they make the harmonies just scream. Courtney and I wrote that one
together.
I was gonna ask if
she got a co-write on that one.
She got two. We wrote that one, and “Now or Never,” the
second track on the album.
This is kinda random
but the key of C minor on “Always a Woman” made me wonder: Do you have a
favorite key, or one that you end up doing the bulk of your songs in?
I write most of my songs in D and I don’t know why. And I
had originally written that song in D minor, but when we got into the studio to
record we got to that point in the chorus where you go up, and I couldn’t quite
hit it. And when we lowered it, it kind of came alive, got darker.
Staying with random:
You recently went skydiving with your mom and daughter. What possessed y’all,
and would you do it again?
That was all my mom’s idea. She had originally wanted to do
that thing in Vegas where you bungee-jump off of a tower on one of the tall
buildings. And later we were together at Christmas and she said something about
skydiving, and my daughter wanted to do it with her. So I bought it for my
daughter, but every time they tried to go the weather was bad, then my daughter
went off to college. She was home a few weeks ago and the weather was perfect.
And on the drive over I thought, “When am I ever gonna get to do this again?
All three generations are here. This is once in a lifetime.”
Tell me about the
moment before you went out the door of the airplane.
It’s the most terrifying and exhilarating thing. On the way
up it’s in your head what’s gonna happen, but it’s just indescribable, the way
you feel standing in that door. If you’re not afraid looking out, you’re not
human. There’s nothing about it that’s natural or normal. You have to try and
get it out of your head, and trust the person who’s strapped to your back.
That was the worst moment, because we did a high jump. We were at 14,000 feet. I
loved it. But there’s really no way in the world to use words to describe what
it feels like.
Would you do it
again?
You know, when I first did it I said there was no way – I
was glad I did it but wouldn’t do it again. But there are times I find myself
thinking about it. I don’t think I’d go out of my way to, but if somebody said,
“You wanna go do this,” I think I probably would.
Y’all are doing
something kinda neat, a sightseeing, musical bus tour of Switzerland with 40
fans. I’m familiar with musical cruises; is this something y’all came up with,
or have others done it?
Courtney and I have gone to Switzerland five years in a row,
I think. We have a promoter over there and we love it there. And you can drive
from one corner of the country to the other in five hours. But we did something
like this last year, with Reckless Kelly and toured Ireland. We were their
guests And Courtney and I decided we had to do this in Switzerland. So it’s
seven nights and five shows, and we’re personally putting it together, where
we’re gonna stay and eat and the venues we’ll play. The response has been
great. We’re really excited about it.
I Travel On is out today.
Labels:
Brent Cobb,
Courtney Patton,
Interviews,
Jason Eady,
Kevin Broughton
Feb 27, 2018
Courtney Patton: The Farce the Music Interview
By Kevin Broughton
Courtney Patton was in a good place, a really good one. And
she had been for a little while, having settled into a marriage with her
songwriting soul mate, the kind and humble Jason Eady. Having received critical
acclaim for her 2015 album So This Is
Life, followed up by the husband-and-wife collection of duets Something Together, Patton was finally
happy and content as she set about to write, record and produce her own record
for the first time.
But happy ain’t country. Fortunately, though, like the
scorpion catching a ride from the frog, Patton’s nature prevails on an album
full of truth, three chords at a time on What
It’s Like To Fly Alone. Collaborating with heavy-hitting songwriters like
Micky Braun and Larry Hooper (who along with Eady helped pen “Barabbas” on
Eady’s self-titled album), she captures heartbreak, hope and a dash of
redemption throughout. Her vocals combine the boldness of Kim Richey and the
sweet, quavering vulnerability of Kelly Willis, while telling stories of
characters both real and familiar.
Patton, with her self-effacing, hearty laugh and genuine
humility, is a woman comfortable in her own skin. Her gregarious wit stands in
contrast to the darkness of her songs’ characters, but the common thread is a
genuineness that pervades. This is a compelling album by a woman serious about
her craft.
She’s between Dallas and Houston when we connect to talk
about hawks, snakes, rats, cigarette smoke and Botox.
A few years back on Jack Ingram’s Songwriters Series, you said, “I think sad songs, the way
they’re produced and written, are the fabric of real country music.” It seems
like you’ve really put your money where your mouth is on this album. We’ll get
into some specific tracks in a minute, but how did this album come about
thematically?
If I’m being 100 percent truthful, I was in a rut. I was in
a writer’s rut, because I was happy for the first time in a really long time.
And it’s hard to be the kind of songwriter I am when you’re happy. Happy songs
are so hard for me, because you’ve really got to know how to do it without
being cheesy.
And I had never co-written before, so I had made a goal
after So This Is Life came out in 2015
that I was going to co-write with some of my friends and really get better at
it. So I’m really proud that seven out of the 12 songs on this record are
co-writes.
That being said, I couldn’t go about it this time with a
theme. Every other time I’ve said, “Okay, the theme for this record is this.” This album, I just wanted to
write songs and have a big pot of them to choose from. But when it came down to
it and I started singing these songs, I realized they all kind of centered on
the idea that we have to make ourselves happy. At the end of the day, we have
to choose the person we’re with; we have to choose to get over addiction. Or
whatever it is. We have to decide to
make the best of what we have.
What about the title
track?
I was driving home from Austin, where I’d had a really bad
gig. A couple of fans had gotten up and left during the first song – and asked
for their money back -- because they had driven in from out of town to see
someone else -- who happened to be my husband. Jason was supposed to be there but wasn't, so Josh Grider was filling in for him. It had nothing to do with me, but it threw me off. I started
forgetting lyrics and doubting myself.
I was crying the whole way home. I called Jason and told him
I was going to quit: “I’m gonna go back to college and get my master’s, and
teach public speaking in college. That’s what I’m want to do!” He said, “Get
home, go to bed and wake up tomorrow. It’ll all be okay.”
And right as I’m wiping my tears away, this hawk shoots out
and flies almost into my car. It shocked me out of my stupor and forced me to
say, “Okay, focus, you’re almost home.” And it was 2:00 in the morning and I
got home and wrote the whole song. And the whole point of it is at the end of
the day, that hawk’s out to find a snake or a rat or whatever he can to
survive, and he’s gotta do it by himself. I’m out here playing songs, singing
songs that come from deep inside of me, and I’ve gotta do it by myself. I have
to choose; when those two couples walk out, I have to be able to say, “I’m good
enough. My songs are good enough. I can do this.” I made the choice to do this;
I’ve gotta play that show and not let it affect me. I’m doing what I love, and
I don’t want to go back to college
right now.
You’re a big fan of
waltzes. Why? (And I have a follow-up question.)
So…I don’t know why, but all my life I’ve liked slow, sadder
songs. I’ve listened to Counting Crows and Carole King and they’ve been huge
influences on me. Willie Nelson…I love Merle Haggard. I just love slow songs.
People have told me, “You’re in a waltz rut,” and I just can’t help it. The way
that I write poetry it phrases itself in a waltz meter without my trying.
That was another challenge because I thought I was gonna end
up with another slew of waltzes – and again, I’m not apologizing – but some
people think it’s too much.
I asked Jason this last year, and I’m curious about your take. How does
one go about writing a waltz? I mean, do you have lyrics ahead of time and bend
them into a One-two-three cadence? Do
you write the words with a ¾ time in your head? Or is it something else
entirely?
Man, for me it just really comes out that way, in a waltz
meter. I’ll have a phrase in mind and I’ll write the phrase out and as the
words start coming, I realize that’s just the way it’s going to be. I really
don’t try, “This is a melody, let’s write a song to it,” I never do that. I
guess my heart beats in the rhythm of a waltz.
On the surface one
would think, you know, you & Jason have been married for going on 4 years
now, and y’all are perfect for each other – you should be in a really good
place in life. But so many of these songs are dark and sad. How much of this
album is autobiographical? I mean, obviously
“Fourteen Years” is about the sister you lost…
Yes…
…but, for instance,
“Round Mountain,”
Completely fictional.
Oh it is? Good!
Yeah! This was one of the first challenges I gave myself. I
drove between two towns -- I wanna say Johnson City and Fredericksburg – maybe
just past Johnson City, and it was literally just a sign: “Round Mountain.” And
I looked into the history and around 1900 there was a church there, and so people started settling there. And when the
church closed they all went back to Johnson City.
So I just made up a fictional story of a character named
Emily, and she had an affair. And I don’t know if that kind of stuff happened
back then, but I kind of wanted to go for a Chris Knight-type of song. I saw a
head stone that said something like “Fare the well, Emily Bell,” and just made
up a story about her, and her not wanting anybody to know she’d had a bastard
baby.” I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate that, if she can hear me. (Laughs)
And she had died young, I should mention that, probably of
dysentery or smallpox or something that actually happened back then. I just
made it way darker. (Laughs)
Yes. Dark. And
fictional.
You know, I got a Face Book message from a fan who said,
“I’m kind of concerned, are you and Jason okay? The title of your album concerns
me, and I don’t see any pictures of y’all together.” And I said, “You know it’s
actually nice to have a private life where we don’t have to share everything we’re doing! But we’re
sitting here having dinner, laughing at the absurdity of your concern. It’s a
song about the music business. Calm down.” (Laughs)
You mentioned dealing
with addiction; speaking from any kind of experience there?
Uh, not necessarily,
but I have a grandfather who struggled with alcoholism and a brother who just
celebrated two years of sobriety. But it’s hard for all of us, watching him
struggle with that and not knowing what to do to help. But it’s not me; there’s
nothing in me that says “I’ve gotta have that,” and then I’ve gotta have it
more. I can have a drink, and I can not
have a drink for three months and not think about it. Luckily it wasn’t
something that was passed on to me. I just think everybody struggles with their
own thing.
You’re on your way to
a house show to help finance this record, and as best I can tell, your albums
have all been self-released. Was this a business decision on your part to
forsake getting a label and do it all on your own?
I’ve never looked for one, and I’ve never had anybody
approach me. So I guess it’s mutual. I enjoy having creative control over my
material and I think I’d be very disheartened if anyone told me I couldn’t do
it the way I wanted to. I just think we’re very fortunate to live in Texas
where you can make a living touring and driving around playing guitar. I don’t
even play with a band. And I make more money doing this than I did at my day
job…which wasn’t much, you know, but
it’s a pride thing. At the end of the day I look at my guitar and say, “Me and
you: we did that.”
And nobody told me, you know, that I had to shoot Botox in
my lips…
Ha!
…or lose 40 pounds. I mean, I think of all the things – I
hear horror stories from my friends in Nashville…these girls in their twenties
who are gorgeous, but with these
ridiculously plump lips and no wrinkles on their foreheads. And that’s just not country music! Country music is
supposed to have wrinkles. And cigarette smoke and beer.
And that’s just not – I would not want anything put on me
that way, because it’s frightening to me. I think they’d take one look at me –
I’m a curvy girl – and say, “You don’t belong here.” So it’s never anything
that’s come into the realm of the possible with me. And I’m okay with that.
Drew Kennedy produced
the last album, and you did this one yourself. What was the recording process
like? Did y’all lay everything down live?
I was nervous about it. But I’ve been missing a lot over the
last few years. I’m a mom – going to basketball games and soccer games. But I
had the opportunity to make and album in my hometown and I’ve never done that
before, so I jumped on it. So two
of the guys who tour with Jason – Jerry Abrams on bass and Giovanni Carnuccio
on drums – we went in the studio and tracked it live. I was in the control room
and they were in the main room, and what you hear is what we did. There are no
overdubs on that part.
Now when you hear Lloyd Maines, he did that from home. But
the basic tracks – guitar, bass drums and vocals – we did that live, in about
two and a half days. But I’m just so fortunate to have Lloyd and a bunch of
other friends and people I trust who helped out. I just sent them my songs. And
the thing is, they – and especially Lloyd – they listen to words, and they play
things that match. A lot of musicians don’t do that. But Lloyd can hear me take
a deep breath, and you can hear it correspond on the steel – inhaling.
It’s just cool things like that; I don’t think I could have
asked for better people to play on it. But I was very excited to try and do it
myself, and it’s been a very proud moment for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever do
it again, but I loved it.
Feb 15, 2018
Country Music is Medicine
Labels:
Cody Jinks,
Jason Eady,
Kelsey Waldon,
Luke Bell,
memes,
Mike & The Moonpies,
Satire,
Sunny Sweeney,
Ward Davis
Dec 22, 2017
Ten Best Songs of 2017: Another Perspective
The Best Songs of 2017
By Kevin Broughton
Trailer’s
list was okay, but just. It demands a response, so here are the ten best
songs of 2017.
Good talk.
Come for the 1½-minute intro of standup bass, brushes &
organ.
Stay for the good-time rock, sassy-ass blues & rockabilly.
Sure, “White House Road” gets all the hype. For straight-up
poignance, though, give me this as the best cut on the smash debut album Purgatory. Well, this one or “Lady May.”
The opening track on what I voted the No. 1 album of the year.
The richness of this full-grown folk singer’s baritone
speaks for itself and nearly defies substantive description. It simply is. PS, he’s 22 years old. I think we’re
done here.
The best voice in all of country music.
On an album full of gems from some of the best musicians in
Texas, here’s a real treat: an acoustic version of “Superstition,” featuring
virtuoso pianist Daniel Creamer on vocals. It’s sublime.
Two
years ago these guys had our album of the year, and Trailer in his
autocratic grace declared, rightly, “The Bird Hunters” our top song. Which
makes it so shocking he would put “Pay No Rent” (respectfully, maybe the
third-best cut on FTM’s #2 Album of the Year) so high, to the exclusion of the
clearly superior “The House Fire.” A disturbing lapse in judgment at best; one
hopes there’s not a deeper character flaw in play.
“I heard the judge ask the jury, ‘which one’s the one to
go?’ Then I heard them say my name, and why I’ll never know.” A song of guilt,
forgiveness and redemption, from the point of view of the criminal pardoned while
the Savior bought ours.
Carve out some of that kindling. There’s plenty of wood
around.
Pure, country authenticity. It tastes like honey.
“We could steal some Keystone Beer from an A-rab liquor
store.”
Leroy Virgil, you beautiful man, thanks
for the best interview ever. Regards to Rico, and bring on the bird dogs and
mountain lions, pal.
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