Exclusive Song Premiere: Western Centuries "Wild Birds"

Photo by Joseph Vidrine

"Wild Birds," from Western Centuries' forthcoming album Songs From The Deluge, was written by Jim Miller. It's his first autobiographical song, and breaks his life into three phases. 

"It's a sad song," Miller says, "but singing it in front of audiences has taught me how to dissociate myself from personal emotions, which seems to be an important aspect of performing."

Check back a week from today -- the album's release date -- for our extended conversation with Jim Miller, about the band, the record and much more. 

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Songs from the Deluge comes out next Friday, April, 6. You can preorder now at Western Centuries' site, Amazon, etc.

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.  

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What It's Like to Fly Alone is available through Courtney's site, on Amazon, etc.

Ruby Boots: The Farce the Music Interview

Photo by Cal Quinn

By Kevin Broughton

The stage name – Ruby Boots – is quite ironic, given the varied and calloused life thus far lived by the gal who thought of it (though she can’t recall exactly why.) On her own by 14, Bex Chilcott has been around. I mean, the world. Several times. As in, learned to play guitar working the high seas of the South Pacific.

Her Bloodshot Records debut, Don’t Talk About It, out last week conjures country sensibilities with an edge: Lucinda Williams meets T Rex, with a dash of – dare we say – Lone Justice. 

We caught up with the brassy, sassy, sexy, saucy Aussie and talked pearling, the (de)merits of the metric system, and checking off a huge bucket list item in the nick of time. And some other stuff, too. 

Americans generally view Australians as fascinating and a little exotic. What really grabbed my attention from your bio is that you were working on a pearling boat at age 19. That sounds both exotic and grueling. Describe that kind of labor.

Well, I guess with any kind of out-of-the-box job, there are really cool perks to it. I was out at sea for two to five weeks at a time, and I was in the sunshine 10 hours a day. It was really beautiful, seeing whales during meal breaks. It really helped my work ethic, but it was literally back-breaking work, pulling up 300 cages a day and cleaning all the oysters. It was in the most beautiful environment, though. 

It’s a complex process, and I suppose we could do the whole interview on pearling (laughs). They have these Japanese technicians who come during harvest and put a plastic bead in the oyster’s tummy. Then they hang in these cages in ocean for two years. And we had to meticulously clean each one. It was a pretty radical thing to do, off the beaten path. But I needed to get out of my hometown.

Give us a thumbnail sketch/timeline of how you wound up in the States, and Nashville particularly.

I ended up hurting my back on the boat – it’s literally back-breaking – but I also ended up learning to play guitar and writing songs while I was out at sea, so I decided to travel around the U.K. and Europe for a couple years. And I came back to Australia and started playing open mics and gigging. That was around 2008, I believe, and I was gigging a lot and ended up developing nodules on my throat because I wasn’t singing the right way.  

So I had to take two years off from singing just to get rid of these nodules on my vocal cords. And after putting my energy into recovering from that, I started gigging and recording, and started to open my eyes to what was out there, and came over to Nashville in 2012. I fell in love with the city immediately; I’d never had that feeling with any other place in the world. And I’ve seen a lot, really: Asia, India, Europe and Australia. And I just kept coming back, because it has this incredible vibe, this small-town feel with all this creative energy that it was living off of. I was coming back a couple times a year.

And then I was awarded a government grant to write my record, so I afforded myself some time in Nashville to get it done, then finished out my last album cycle touring around the country. So in May of 2016, I settled down in Nashville again to write this record. 

This is random, but have you quit thinking in the metric system since you’ve been here? Have you embraced “miles” and “pounds?”

Hell. No! (Laughs) My Siri on my phone is still in kilometers and has an Australian accent!  I’m all about assimilation, but I still need to know where I’m going, how long it’s going to take me to get there, and how far away it is. (Laughs)

Why the stage name, Bex? Going forward will “Ruby Boots” be you & whatever band is behind you at a given time, and how did you come up with the name?

Actually it’s been so long ago, and I’m trying to remember. This came up recently when I was in Australia and on this radio program. It was live-to-air, with an audience, and I was asked about it and I just honestly couldn’t remember; I’ve used other names in the past and have just used this one for the last couple of album cycles. That name’s been with me for a while now and I’ve started to make fans with it in this area. I’ve thought about changing it to something closer to my actual name, but people have grown used to it and can relate to it. 

I do remember that my real surname was not at all stage-worthy, so that was the motivation behind finding an alter-ego name.

The Texas Gentlemen – whose album I’ve worn out since last fall – backed you on this record. How did that introduction come about? 

One of the guys who had played with them a lot who had also played with me – Chase McGillis on bass – has become a very dear friend. And he told me the Gents were passing through Nashville on their way to play the Newport Folk Festival, where they were backing Kris Kristofferson. They were doing a warm up show at the American Legion Hall in Nashville, and Chase rang me about two hours before the show and said, “Do you want to come down and sing “Me and Bobby McGee?”

So, I went down there and sang “Me and Bobby McGee!”

Nice.

Yeah! So the Gents put on my old record on the bus and listened to it on the way to Newport. And when they were on the way back to Dallas, I was living in Nashville at Nikki Lane’s at the time and they were all there. (Texas Gent and producer) Beau (Bedford) was asking me what I was doing, so I started sending him songs. The rest is kind of history, I guess. 

What about the arrangements and production? Did you go into the studio with a pretty good idea of how you wanted it to sound? How collaborative was it? 

I definitely had set about to move into this record with a fuller electric sound; that was a conscious choice as I was writing the songs. I felt like on my previous tours from other albums that I was missing that extra grit, you know? My punk heart was really missing that.

Beau came out to Nashville and we went through all the songs and talked about them, and what we heard in them. And we set out to honor all the songs, I guess, but still with that electric feel. And we definitely came together chatting about old school records like T Rex, or Tom Petty – whom I’ve just always idolized as my go-to, No. 1 songwriter – and Beau definitely has a lot of the same influences.

But once we got in the studio, all those guys just have such an encyclopedia set between them of such raw musical instincts! The boys are each such great musicians and songwriters; so we did honor the songs, but in a very collective way with such a wealth of everyone’s musicality. 

Several of the songs on this record obviously come from dark places; you left home at 14 for starters, and you named the album “Don’t Talk About It.” Ignoring that title for a moment, I’d like to know where these songs come from, and how cathartic it was to record them. Did you get any kind of closure, or was that something you were even looking for? 

There are some particularly personal elements in the record, and I’m not trying to avoid...(pauses) the listener thinking they’re all songs that I’ve written from a place within myself. But a lot of them were conversational; they started conversations within myself, you know? What was going on in my life at the time, in my friends’ lives…society, and how all of those things spoke to me and came out in songs. 

It’s not a breakup album, it’s not a love album; it’s a life album to me. The introductory track, to me, is a classical example of it. 

It’s that element where…I mean, you can be on the giving end of it or the receiving end of it, but you’ve been in a situation where information is being withheld, and all of a sudden this other person informs you that they have a significant other. And it’s too late to make a moral choice; you’re already locked and loaded in that situation. (Laughs) And I think there’s an element of relate-ability there with the audience. And that’s what I wanted to do with the record and the way listeners digest it.

The great thing about coming from a tumultuous life experience in many ways is that you can always tap into it artistically. It doesn’t leave you – it gets better as time goes by – but it’s always there to tap into. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing as a songwriter. And I think there are elements of strength and vulnerability in this record, with a woman’s voice – a good bit of defiance, but with some fragility too. 

A long-winded answer, but it’s hard to wrap up the voice of my record in a sentence, you know. 

You’ve drawn comparisons to Lucinda Williams and Nikki Lane – the latter sings harmony on one cut. I’m reminded of Kasey Chambers – but that could just be my American brain making subconscious generalities. I’m also reminded of Maria McKee from Lone Justice, but that could be way before your time…

Oh my goodness! I love Lone Justice! You are the FIRST PERSON who’s ever made that comparison! I swear I was just thinking please, please, let him say Lone Justice, let him make a Lone Justice comparison!

Honest, that was the first thing I thought of. I said, “Man, this is Lone Justice.”

No sh*t? That’s awesome, and one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said. I love her! To hear you say that about someone I admire so much is a very big compliment. So thank you very much.

Who are some of your other influences?

Off the top of my head, Lucinda, Ryan Adams and Tom Petty are probably my top three songwriters that I just adore.  Anytime I feel like I’m not getting what I want from what I’m listening to, I can just go back to those three. 

I still can’t believe Tom Petty’s gone. Can’t process it. 

You know, a lot of bad sh*t happened last year, but that was the worst. I feel really lucky because I finally got to see him in Detroit last year, on the 40^th Anniversary Tour. I had just fallen in love, and our first out-of-town trip was to Detroit to see Tom Petty, and that was at the top of my bucket list. I’m so glad I acted on a hunch that I might not get a chance to see them again, you know? 

What’s next for Ruby Boots? 

After the record launch on Feb. 9, I’m gonna play some shows in Kansas City, and we’ll hit South By Southwest after that. I’ll do an in-store here in Nashville. But it just means so much – it’s taken a lot of will and might – to have made my way here to America from Australia. It means so much to be able to launch this record here in America after all the tenacity and focus. It’s a really big deal for me, you know? 

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Ruby Boots' Don't Talk About It is available on Amazon, iTunes, and all the usual outlets.

Kevin's Top 13 Albums of 2017

Kevin's Top 13 Albums of 2017

1. Colter Wall – Colter Wall

Granted, producer Dave Cobb has an inexhaustible Midas touch. But you’d assume in situations like this one – producing the debut album from a star in the making from Canada – he’d largely just stand back. Listen to Wall’s deep, dark baritone and tell me he’s 22 years old; great golly, he is. Here’s the gold standard for folk albums in the twenty-teens, featuring the year’s best murder ballad, “Kate McCannon.” Tyler Childers’ singing harmony vocals on the traditional ballad “Fraulein” is the cherry on top. 

2. Chris Stapleton – From a Room, Vol. II

This is the best pure country album for the last two or three years, from the man with hands-down the best voice in the genre. I had this playing in the background at work and a colleague asked, “Is this Waylon?” Well, yeah, pretty much. Take note, Nashville: Stapleton’s topping the charts, no thanks to you.  

3. Turnpike Troubadours – A Long Way From Your Heart

As I wrote on its debut, this album is wonderfully more of the same we’ve come to expect from these champions of the Red Dirt universe. Nobody writes a bittersweet broken-heart song better than Evan Felker, as evidenced in “The House Fire.”

4. Tyler Childers – Purgatory

Appalachia has passed the torch to its newest great storyteller; welcome to the big time, Tyler Childers. If anyone has doubts, ask yourself if Sturgill Simpson would produce this guy if he were anything but the genuine article. Childers has set himself an incredibly high bar here; but with a couple listens no one will doubt he’ll raise it higher on the next one. Here is the real deal, and he’ll be around for a long, long time. 

5. Jeremy Pinnell - Ties of Blood & Affection

Fine storytelling, great vocals. More from this guy, please. 

6. Texas Gentlemen – TX Jelly

A terrific breakout record from some of the finest musicians in the Lone Star State. Recorded over a handful of days in Muscle Shoals, this first group of 11 tracks fits together in a perfect yet random way. These guys are heavy hitters and make it sound easy. Much more to come.

7. JD McPherson – Undivided Heart and Soul

What this country needs is more rockabilly, and this Okie delivers in spades. This is just lots of fun. It’s got a dash of British pub rock, just enough to remind us of Elvis Costello & Nick Lowe. Shake your hips, Daddy-o.

8. Jason Eady – Jason Eady

The album gently grabs your attention with the song “Barabbas” and holds it throughout with some of the best songwriting of the year from a genuine craftsman. This Texan – by way of Mississippi – hits full stride with a fine album produced by the legendary Lloyd Maines and featuring the backing vocals of Vince Gill.  

9. Gregg Allman – Southern Blood

I don’t think he ever made a better solo album, and it’s so just bittersweet that we get this one from beyond the grave. His covers of the Grateful Dead’s “Black Muddy River” and Little Feat’s “Willin’” add a sweet touch. Given all Gregg’s givens, let’s be thankful he was here for 69 years. Rest easy, man. 

10. Zephaniah OHora – This Highway

This album is an authentic, organic tribute to the golden years of country music, recalling Hank Snow, Marty Robbins and Ray Price. Another hit for the so-called “neo-traditionalists.”

11. The Steel Woods – Straw In The Wind

A perfect balance of country and rock, and with some fine storytelling. Check your mirror, Blackberry Smoke; these guys are on your heels. 

12. Son Volt – Notes of Blue

Jay Farrar decided to make a blues record and to the surprise of absolutely no one, it shines. He’s superman. He can do anything. Could we have a bluegrass album next, please? 

13. Shinyribs – I Got Your Medicine

Just a fun album, start to finish. Adult-size portions of soul, real (as to what is today called) rhythm & blues, and gospel should keep this record in heavy rotation.

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Kevin Broughton

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.

1. JD McPherson - Bloodhound Rock

Come for the 1½-minute intro of standup bass, brushes & organ. 

Stay for the good-time rock, sassy-ass blues & rockabilly.

2. Tyler Childers - Feathered Indians

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.”

3. Colter Wall - Thirteen Silver Dollars

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.

4. Chris Stapleton - Millionaire

The best voice in all of country music.

5. Texas Gentlemen - Superstition

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.

6. Turnpike Troubadours - The House Fire

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.

7. Jason Eady - Barabbas

“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.  

8. The Steel Woods - Axe

Carve out some of that kindling. There’s plenty of wood around.

9. Zephania Ohora - I Do Believe I've Had Enough

Pure, country authenticity. It tastes like honey.

10. Hellbound Glory - Vandalism Spree

“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.

JD McPherson: Rockabilly Gold & Maximum Fun

JD McPherson: Rockabilly Gold & Maximum Fun

By Kevin Broughton

Jonathan David McPherson grew up a rural cat, even for an Okie. The son of a farmer and retired Army veteran (mom was a preacher), JD grew up near the town of Talihina, a random spot the railroad decided to drop a turn-of-the century depot in Indian Territory. “Where I grew up,” he told the New Zealand music blog Libel, “was just completely removed from anything resembling a town or a city. It was an hour away from the nearest supermarket.”

Drawn to the guitar in his early teens, the isolation proved a boon. Music became his sole focus, and he’s been in bands of one sort or another from then till now.  We can be thankful that in his formative years he was drawn to the work of Buddy Holly and other 1950s icons; his Undivided Heart and Soul positively oozes authentic rockabilly. 

If The Flat Duo Jets (or iconic front man Dex Romweber), The V-Roys, Marshall Crenshaw, Robert Gordon and Brian Setzer got together for a twenty-teens hootenanny, they’d hope the could collaborate on something that could rival McPherson’s October release on the New West label. 

There’s a brilliant range and diversity: McPherson’s goes from to throbbing, pleading rocker on the opening cut, “Desperate Love,” to sweet, soothing crooner on “Hunting for Sugar.” The bass-driven backbeat and reverb-laden baritone guitar of “Crying’s Just a Thing You Do” are reminiscent of Elvis Costello. And it’s impossible not to hear the Rockpile/Nick Lowe influence of a couple of songs, notably “On The Lips.” (A hint of Squeeze, too.) 

The money cut, though, is “Bloodhound Rock.” Fully a third of the 4 ½-minute song is a nifty buildup of standup bass, feint brushes on snare, understated guitar and just enough organ. It burns. You can’t not shimmy and shake. 

There’s not a more fun song, or album for that matter, of the year.

Dig it, Daddy-o. It’s okay to shake your hips.

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Undivided Heart & Soul is available on Amazon, iTunes, and all the usual spots.

Album Review: Turnpike Troubadours - A Long Way From Your Heart

A Long Way From Your Heart and Wonderfully, More of the Same

By Kevin Broughton

The striking similarities come quickly. There are too many common threads to miss in “The Bird Hunters,” the opening track of the Turnpike Troubadours’ 2015 self-titled album, and “The House Fire,” our introduction to A Long Way From Your Heart, out today on Thirty Tigers. A hard-driving country beat. A Browning shotgun. Searing heartbreak, met first with resignation and then just a smidgen of hope and resiliency. In fact, the dame who eventually crushes the protagonist shares a name (Good Lord, Lorrie) with a temptress a couple albums back:

I remember smelling smoke, I woke up I was choking.

Lorrie grabbed the baby and we made it safe outside.

She never missed a note, took a breath and cleared her throat,

And wrapped him in a Carhartt coat she found out in my ride.

Turns of phrase like that one are why Troubadours front man Evan Felker is one of the premier songwriters in country music, and by extension, why these guys are the undisputed kings of the Red Dirt scene. Could “The House Fire” be a metaphor for Felker’s recent past, what with several drunken performances the last few years? Maybe. But it’s a damn fine song and a great way to kick of the group’s fifth studio album.

And why, frankly, mess with success? A Long Way From Your Heart is the perfect, logical follow-up to the band’s 2015 release, the hands-down FTM Album of the Year winner. “Something to Hold On To” is straight-up rock ‘n’ roll with a dash of Okie sensibility. “The Winding Stair Mountain” gets in your face with frenetic dose of fiddle, steel and mandolin for a wild, three-and-a-half minute ride, so hang on.

But there’s balance, as with all Troubadours’ records, best exemplified by “Pay No Rent,” a tender friend song reminiscent of “Down Here” a couple years back. No matter the tempo or time signature, nearly all of Felker’s songs have a gentle, human touch. If he can keep his personal life between the ditches, look for the Turnpike Troubadours to sustain this level of greatness for a good while. Because this album sounds like it’s almost too easy for these guys.

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 A Long Way From Your Heart is available today everywhere you consume music.

Leroy Virgil of Hellbound Glory: The Farce the Music Interview

Leroy Virgil: The Farce the Music Interview

By Kevin Broughton

Americana. Roots music. Roots rock. Alt-country. Outlaw country. Interchangeable terms, when trying to classify the music we here at FTM try to promote – when we’re not busting on the mainstream “country” acts that pollute terrestrial radio airwaves. Sirius/XM has a channel dedicated to it. Number 60 on their satellite dial is “Outlaw Country,” and even in that niche you’ll find a lot of genre bending. 

Steve Earle, a bona fide second-generation pioneer of the outlaw scene, came right out with it on his most recent album. Always subtle, Earle planted the flag – one hopes to signify an emergence from a decade’s worth of political activism – and named his record So You Wanna Be An Outlaw. Because we needed to be reminded how much of an outlaw he is, one assumes. 

But if you asked Hellbound Glory’s Leroy Virgil, “Are you an outlaw?” he’d likely pause, ponder for a moment and say, “Sure!” with the happy grin of a kid about to play cowboys and Indians. And with the aid of a prodigious producer, he’s made probably the most outlaw album of the year. 

Pinball has Shooter Jennings’ fingerprints all over it. He even shot a clever tease video for pre-sales, featuring a menacing woman of Asian extraction and a masked goon in a Hawaiian shirt wielding a bat. The songs, though – excepting a couple of covers – are vintage Leroy Virgil: benders, binges, breakups and blues, with the occasional jaded comic’s view of society at large. 

“’Merica (The Good Ol’ Days)” kicks off the album in a brash, rollicking way. It’s a cynic’s state of the union – with citizens fueled by “alcohol and Adderall” – without being heavy-handed. There’s a wonderful cover of the elder Jennings’ “Six Strings Away,” but for my money the gem of this record is “Vandalism Spree,” the best white-trash love song since DBT’s “Zip City.” Somehow there’s a sweet and tender quality to the idea of burning down the Dairy Queen and maybe robbing a cash machine.  

To fully appreciate Hellbound Glory, though, you have to talk to Leroy. More accurately, ask a few questions then just take your hands off the wheel. You’re along for the ride. That’s all. More topically, the conversation is pinball-like. 

I think this is real. Let’s see where this goes.

Okay, is it pronounced “LEE-Roy” or  “L’roy?”

I don’t know, man, whichever is fine. Say it however you want to say it.

Well, how do you say it?

I say it differently every time it comes out of my mouth.

Well played. You’ve been on Shooter Jennings label for a while; is this the first record of yours he’s produced? I ask because the first time I listened to Pinball I heard echoes of his The Other Life album.

Well, a couple years ago we went out to Nashville to record some of the songs that are on this album, and it didn’t really come together. We just sat on the phones for a couple years and he finally hit me up a year ago and said, “Hey, let’s try again on this album.” And he picked the songs, put the band together and really called the shots. It’s been a lot of fun.

So the band he put together…well, let me back up. Y’all are fixin’ to kick off a tour together; will y’all be using the same band?

Yeah. They joined my band and I joined theirs.

Okay. So is Hellbound Glory kind of like Son Volt, which is Jay Farrar and whatever musicians happen to be playing with him at the time?

Well, yeah. A couple years ago, I decided to kill the band off. It was a sort of ritual on Halloween. I had a coffin. There was a guy dressed up as a priest. I didn’t want to go that far, but it was a very strange night. You know, out in the middle of nowhere, a strange, tiny bar…some burn victims…

Burn victims? 

Yeah, things got kinda crazy.

Yeah?

You know, that whole area is in this burial ground place where people came out during the Gold Rush and gave the Indians blankets that had smallpox on them so they could get to the gold faster. So they say that whole area is kind of cursed.

What could go wrong? 

Yeah. So it was kind of a heavy trip. 

I would think. Were you dosed?

(Giggles.) Well, I did some dosing, but I wasn’t dosed myself. 

For the record, what’s your birth name?

My birth name is Leon Virgil Bowers. 

Okay – and I’m jumping ahead in my questions here a little bit…I read your interview in Saving Country Music, where you talked about killing the name off. I’m curious, when you were a solo act under your birth name for a few years, was there confusion with the audiences? I ask because in the 70s when the Allman Brothers took a hiatus, Gregg and Dickey both did solo albums, but the latter billed himself on the record and tour as “Richard Betts.” Ticket and record sales underperformed as a result.

Oh, yeah. Lots of confusion, but I like to promote that kind of stuff. I just figured if I was gonna go out there with a different name, I might as well go with the name my mom gave me.  I never ended up putting out a record. The deal was I needed to do something different, because the people I was working with, they weren’t sure I could use the name “Hellbound Glory” at the time. 

Oh…okay.

So I had to change it. But it’s still up in the air. So, we’re still working on getting it worked out. 

Ah.

Well, not really working on it. I’m just playing in a band and calling it Hellbound Glory. 

You know, just in the first few minutes of this thing, I’m starting to see how you and Shooter might be drawn to each other…

Yeah, we’re like cousins.

...y’all both seem to like a little bit of chaos going on. So did y’all not even know each other at all until a couple years ago, and he reached out to you? 

Well, I was playing a gig in Reno at a place called Davidson’s, and he was playing right down the street at a Casino called Silver Legacy. So I just walked down and caught their sound check.  And we didn’t really make a connection, but then later he heard of me and heard my songs, and now he’s one of my biggest fans. 

Obviously. The characters in your songs are a collection of misfits – and that’s being kind. 

(Laughs) Yeah, degenerates!

Their attitudes range from cynical to fatalistic to carefree – and certainly aren’t shy about discussing their benders and binges.  What are they telling us about your general outlook on life?

Well…they’re just songs. They’re not me. I’d say this new album – I like the way it doesn’t end on a happy note. I guess it’s nihilistic in that way. But I’m not.

Oh, no. You did a symbolic, ritual killing-off of a band on a site where Indians got dosed with smallpox, but “nihilistic?” Nah. Please go on.

(Laughing) Well, I’m an artist. And a little bit skewed, I guess. But it’s the whole “Pinball” thing, you know? Life’s a game of pinball, where if you lose, you lose your soul. That’s kinda what I’m going for: staying in play as long as I can.  But there’s the chaos thing you mentioned. Sometimes it’s hard not to slip. You follow me?

Oh, yeah. I’ve been wearing this record out for the last three weeks. The line, “We could steal some Keystone beer from an A-rab liquor store” has made “Vandalism Spree” one of my favorite songs of the year. You’re not a politically correct fella, are you? 

Well, I didn’t realize it wasn’t politically correct. 

Come on!

I don’t even know what that song’s about. I don’t remember making it up. But there’s a lot of liquor stores run by…well, there’s a lot of liquor stores in Reno, and I’m friends with all of them. I don’t actually steal from them. (Giggles)

Do you think political correctness has taken some of the rough edges off of alt-country or outlaw music, and did you notice music being politicized in the genre last year and since? 

Huh, that’s a really good question, let me think about that one for a minute. You know, I’ve never really thought about that too much. I was told I was gonna get some backlash for that lyric when I first wrote it and started singing it. The people I was working with wanted me to change it, and I tried to change it…

What??

Yeah, I tried to change it but Shooter said he’d give me a Bitcoin if I left it the way it was…

I’m dying here…

…and now that Bitcoin is worth four thousand bucks. 

I’m gonna interview Shooter eventually and I’ll just get him to explain how that stuff works. It’s just so nebulous to me.

Yeah, I don’t know too much about it, either. I just passed it off to my ex-wife. I gave her all of it, just to hold onto for my kid. 

Well, that’s cool. If you can use it for child support it’s gotta be real, right? 

Well, I tried. I tried. But, no luck. She wanted real money.  But on the whole politics thing, I guess I’m just not smart enough to keep up with it. I’m more interested in what other people think. I guess it’s a good thing that people are venting and getting it out; maybe the pressure cooker will cool down a little bit.

Well, it’s either that or huffing spray paint and gasoline, like your guy in “Vandalism Spree.”

(Giggling) Yeah, exactly! There’s always that. But mostly I just follow what’s going on with the bands and music. 

Who are you listening to these days?

Wheeler Walker, Jr.

Of course.

I’ve been listening to him all day.

I haven’t heard his second album; the first was a work of brilliance.

It’s pretty good. It popped up – I had my music on “random,” and it popped up while I was driving my kid around and I tried to change it real fast and he was like, “What was that? Play it, play it!” So I had to.

How old is he?

My kid? He’s six.  I was hoping to get Wheeler to play his birthday party but I couldn’t make it happen. 

Maybe if you paid him in Bitcoin…

Bob Wayne. Are you familiar with Bob Wayne?

I’m not.

He’s pretty good. He’s a country artist who wrote some songs for Hank III.  You know, maybe I’ll get him to play my son’s birthday party. Seems a little more feasible. 

If you were granted one wish to change something about country music today, what would it be?

Well, I’d wish that I were at the top of it. I think I could do a lot of good for country music. 

For instance?

Well, it’s because my stuff is so real. It’s blues and it’s folk and it’s country. It’s all that…and maybe, I don’t know, maybe it’s too country.  I grew up in the country, and I can’t tell if [today’s music] is too country or not country enough. But it’s boring. Boring! Yeah, that’s what it is. 

That leads to my next question. In “That’s Just What I Am” you let folks know you aren’t from down South but still have country bona fides. No one who knows your work would dispute that. I’m curious what life was like growing up in rural Washington state, and whether you went on vandalism sprees from time to time.

(Laughs) You know, I bounced around quite a bit. By the time I was five years old, I had lived in California, Nevada, Utah and Washington. So I had lived pretty much all over the West, and I had also lived in Missouri and Arkansas by that time, too. I was all over the place.

But I grew up in Washington in the same town as Kurt Cobain, a little logging town called Aberdeen. My stepfather was an oyster farmer, so I had to spend every day after school at a farm. Just tromping around out in the woods – if I got in trouble at school I would have to go and work with him. I was always in a lot of trouble. (Laughs)

I was in so much trouble that if I was even halfway good during the week…I had to take a note to the office for them to say if I was bad or good. And if I was good, they’d give me ice cream. They chained me to my desk…

What? 

They made me make paper chains and chain myself to the desk. I’m working on a song called “Paper Chains.” It’s gonna be about divorce. Breaking paper chains. That’s country, huh? I think it’s pretty f*cking country. 

Yeah, man. You’re legit. Did you end up getting much ice cream?

Once or twice, as I remember. But the lady in the office I had to go down to with the note, she said I was her favorite student she ever taught. She told my aunt I was a good kid. So she liked me.  

When did you know that music was what you had to do for a living? 

Driving around with my stepdad and mom, going back to Aberdeen from Olympia, and Nirvana’s Nevermind had come out. My dad was playing it in the car because he knew Krist Novocelik, the bass player. And he said, “I can play this song; this is easy.” And I said, “No you can’t! You can’t play this!”

And we got back to the house and he grabbed a guitar and started playing all these Nirvana songs. And I figured if he could do it and they could do it, I could do it. 

And was that the first time you had picked up a guitar? 

Well, yeah, other than just picking up guitars around the house and d*cking around with them. 

Well, how old were you when Nevermind came out?

Let me think…I was 10.

Wow. So what are you, about 37?

I’m 36. 

Scrolling through the song titles during my first listen to Pinball, one jumped off the page. Guess which. It’s a cover

Hmmm. Let me think about the songs now…a cover. “Six Strings Away?” No, “Delta Dawn!”

Yes! I was in the second grade when Helen Reddy had a No. 1 hit with it, and had no idea until now that Tanya Tucker had done a version the year before. What in the world made you want to cut that one?

Tanya Tucker? I’d f*ck her. (Giggles for a while)

Oh my.

Someone requested it at a gig in Idaho, and we just started messing around with it. It just sounded so good that I just kept at it. But a few years ago I was married to a girl named Dawn. I’m not gonna say it was a tribute to her, but that’s how I just put my personal feelings into it. Know what I mean? I just think about her whenever I sing it. 

Do you remember the first time you heard the song? 

Right now I’m drawing a blank. 

Was it the Tanya Tucker or Helen Reddy version, if you recall?

The one that first jumped out at me was the one Waylon did.

That’s right! 

It was on a box set that, funnily enough, she (Dawn) bought me for Christmas, all those years ago. One of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. 

Waylon covered a bunch of really good songs. 

What a great voice. 

What else you got going on? 

Right now I’m almost to Pittsburgh, on my way to a Shooter show in West Virginia. I’m not on the bill, but I am gonna get up and do a couple songs and promote my new thing. After this Pinball thing comes out I’m wanting to do a new project called Bird dog. 

Called what?

Bird Dawg – d-a-w-g. Songs about birds and dogs and p**sy and fishing.

Well, then.

I’ve got a bunch of pictures of dogs that I’m gonna autograph and sell, and all the money will go toward the album. I’ve got this song about mountain lions in Southern California. It’s…well, it’s not really a political song, but there’s a little bit of a message in it. It may be one of my most political songs ever. It’s about this mountain lion who can’t get back to his mate. 

Uh…

(Giggling)

Okay, I’ll bite. How is there a political message in that? 

Well, I’m not really…I’m just saying how it is, know what I mean?

Nope.

It’s from the perspective of the mountain lion. And he’s just talking about how all these humans have come along, and now he can’t cross the freeway. 

Can’t believe I didn’t pick up on something so obvious.

It’s my favorite song to sing right now.

Do you have a rough cut of it you could send me? For my ears only?

Sure! Be happy to. I need to demo it anyway. 

Cool. Well, before we get to the project about birds and dogs and other favorite things, what do you have lined up tour-wise?

I cannot wait. I’m so excited to get out on the road and start playing songs and seeing all my fans and hanging out. I’m really looking forward to getting back out there. 

I just landed a song in a movie, so I’m gonna take that money and get a cop car and just tour in that…

Wait. What? 

Yeah, me and Rico.

(Getting the feeling this has all been an Andy Kaufman-level put-on) Who’s…who’s Rico?

Rico…he’s not with me right now. He just moved out of my house, he was living in my spare bedroom. By the way, I’ve got an awesome house. 

Yeah?

It overlooks all of Reno. I can see the whole entire town. It sits on top of a hill. And it’s filled with pinball machines. For Rico. He’s my steel guitar player.

But he’s a real person, right? Not an imaginary friend or an alternate personality? (Serious question at this point)

No, he’s…if I’m the Lone Ranger, he’s Tonto. But he’s not here right now. He…he doesn’t have an I.D., so he can’t get on an airplane…

Is he undocumented?

(Cackling) Yeah, you know, sometimes I wish they would ship him back. But he’s worked for me for a long time, and we’ve got chemistry. He and I have some really good chemistry you just don’t find every day. I’m really not that big a fan of his playing, but you don’t mess with what works. 

:-/

But you know we’ve toured together as just a duo, playing to really big crowds. Like the White Stripes or the Black Keys.

My beef with the White Stripes was always – was it Jack White’s sister? – well, the (in air quotes) DRUMMER couldn’t really play the drums.

Yeah, I was never a big fan, either. 

Well, when you said you weren’t a huge fan of his playing, I thought, “Well, maybe the White Stripes comparison was appropriate.”

It sounds really rudimentary. But for me it’s his voice that gets really annoying. 

(Fairly certain he’s talking about Jack White, not “Rico,” but who knows at this point?)

I like something a little more pleasing to the ear.

So, you’ll be supporting Shooter, using his band for the next couple weeks, then when you do the actual Hellbound Glory tour it’ll just be you and Rico?

To be honest with you, I have no idea. I’ve got a couple gigs lined up in Reno. I play every Thursday at this place called Davidson’s Distillery. The best way I can describe it is it’s like something out of a Fellini movie. It would blow your mind. 

I’m not sure anything you tell me could now, Leroy…

It’s like Reno 911. So if you’re ever in Reno, I’m there every Thursday. I’ll be playing there for many years. If you’re ever in Reno on a Thursday you should definitely come hang out.

* * *

The whole exchange had a Reno 911 feel to it, and it’s easy to assume you’ve been clowned after such a ride – or rhetorical pinball game. Finishing up the transcript the notion nagged, so I reached out with a text.

As fate would have it, as I was texting him he was at that moment reciprocating. Turns out it was just lots of coffee. The Mountain Lion song is real, and it’s awesome. Leroy Virgil is real and adorably kooky. The goofy outlaw just made a great record. 

Even without Rico. 

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Pinball is available today.

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