Categories
Arts Culture

Songs and stories

At the intermission of his concerts, John McCutcheon asks attendees to submit song requests for the show’s second set. It’s how the Grammy-nominated folk singer, who’s released 44 albums during his five-decade career, figures out what to play. With a huge catalog of material, McCutcheon says his performances are spontaneously constructed, and singing is just part of the evening. He often introduces songs with lengthy stories, and he makes time to showcase his prowess on more than a dozen traditional acoustic instruments, including banjo, fiddle, and hammer dulcimer.

“It’s an interesting tightrope to walk,” says McCutcheon, 71, of his time on stage. “You want to do your new stuff, but people come because of what they’ve heard before. Being a soloist has forced me to learn how to read an audience. At this point, singing songs is the easy part. What’s fun is crafting a show that comes together as a whole.”

Of the song requests he solicits from his audience, McCutcheon says there are some typical favorites, including “Christmas in the Trenches,” an engaging ballad set in World War I from the 1984 album Winter Solstice, and “Old People in Love,” a sentimental tune from 2009’s Untold.

Another staple, “Kindergarten Wall,” has roots in Charlottesville. McCutcheon wrote the cheery recollection of lessons learned during the first year of school, found on his acclaimed children’s album Mail Myself to You, after one of his kids finished kindergarten at Burnley-Moran Elementary School. McCutcheon lived in town for two decades, from 1986 to 2006, and although that time coincided with a period of heavy national touring, he fondly recalls collaborating with members of the local music scene and fostering community with other singer-songwriters who lived in the area, including Mary Chapin Carpenter, Ellis Paul, and the late Jesse Winchester.

“We were all pals, and it still feels right when I get together with some of these folks,” McCutcheon says. “For me, Charlottes­ville became a place where you could become engaged in a community and lend a hand in your own peculiar way.”

A standout memory? On New Year’s Eve in 1999, McCutcheon assembled hundreds of musicians, including church choir singers, rock players, and the Charlottesville High School band, for a special performance for First Night Virginia that took place under a big circus tent set up near where the Ting Pavilion is currently located. 

“The kind of imagination that can come from a really creative small city like Charlottesville was really exciting and liberating,” he says.

McCutcheon now resides in the Atlanta area, but he keeps Charlottesville in rotation on his regular touring schedule. He’s found a comfortable spot for shows at Piedmont Virginia Community College’s Mainstage Theatre, where he’ll perform on Saturday, April 27.

When McCutcheon returns to town, he’ll bring material from his latest album, last year’s Together, a collaborative collection of songs with fellow longstanding folk artist Tom Paxton—an influential figure in the genre who made his mark alongside Bob Dylan and Dave Van Ronk in the 1960s Greenwich Village revival scene. 

At the onset of the pandemic, McCutcheon and Paxton started meeting for weekly writing sessions via Zoom, and the duo found a groove that yielded 14 songs. Like much of McCutcheon’s discography, the album’s lyrics move between subjects that are topical, humorous, historical, and personal. 

Album opener “Ukrainian Now” takes a supportive stance for citizens of an invaded country still in the throes of war. With emotive bow work from ace fiddler Stuart Duncan and a stirring chorus, the song has broadly resonated with listeners, and it even resulted in a Ukrainian family living in Seattle sending McCutcheon a bandura—a traditional Ukrainian string instrument—as a gesture of thanks.

“It went viral, as the youngsters say,” McCutcheon says of the song. “We were getting comments from frontline soldiers in Ukraine. When I decide to write a song [about something], I want to contribute to the conversation in a way that helps people see it in a way they hadn’t thought about it before.” 

McCutcheon already has album number 45 in the works, and he says it will include backing from Charlottesville drummer Robert Jospé and a song written with Trent Wagler of The Steel Wheels. Although he’s glad to be back on the road, McCutcheon says he’s continued to embrace remote co-writing, with fruitful results.

“It’s kept the creative juices going,” he says. “I’m still doing it regularly and coming up with a lot more songs.”

Categories
Arts Culture

Protest songs

Josh Vana’s folk song “To the River” has the good bones of a powerful protest anthem: a timeless chord progression, an urgent message of opposition, and an uplifting chorus ready for joined voices. In the lyrics, he laments environmental degradation at the hands of industry, and speaks for the small communities that have been embroiled in a decade-long fight against the impending Mountain Valley Pipeline. 

Nearly complete, the controversial natural gas pipeline is supposed to span 303 miles from northwestern West Virginia to southern Virginia. Since its initial proposal in 2014, the project has become what many have called a start-stop boondoggle, with costs ballooning to more than $7 billion, and been mired in lawsuits and fines for environmental violations. Critics are appalled at the construction footprint, which burrowed under streams and through the slopes of the Allegheny and Blue Ridge Mountains, scarring scenic landscapes both public and private. They’re also fearful of the pipeline’s long-term operational safety and environmental impacts, particularly on water quality.

Vana, who’s based in Albemarle County, has performed “To the River” at many of the indefatigable protests that have taken place around the pipeline’s path.

“That song has seemed to take meaning with a lot of folks, and I’m happy to keep singing it,” says Vana, who’s the director of ARTivism Virginia. “Artists and musicians reflect the world back at it through their mediums and give people on the front lines of a struggle some hope.”

His song is now getting even more reach as the first track on STOP MVP: Artists From WV, VA & NC Against the Mountain Valley Pipeline, an impressive compilation released in December on the Charlottesville-based WarHen Records, that features a diverse cast of artists from the Southeast and Mid-Atlantic regions.

The collection of tunes was put together by two additional fixtures of Virginia’s independent music scene, WarHen owner Warren Parker and guitarist Daniel Bachman, who had been searching for a collaborative project. Last year, after the Biden administration streamlined federal approval for the pipeline as a concession during debt ceiling negotiations, Bachman felt renewed urgency to create an artistic statement of opposition, and started reaching out to fellow musicians.

“It grew really fast and was almost like it assembled itself,” Bachman says. “Each of the people that I knew introduced me to a new web of artists and activists. This feels like an easy way to get involved and bring in people from everywhere. It’s broad in its musical expression and really became a cross-section of the creative communities in these three states.”

Throughout the compilation’s 40 songs, the Charlottesville music scene is well represented with familiar faces, including thoughtful songwriters Ned Oldham and Sarah White, indie rockers New Boss, and experimental explorers Grand Banks. Contributions also come from staples of the WarHen roster, including West Virginia alt-country outfit Tucker Riggleman and the Cheap Dates and Americana upstarts Dogwood Tales. 

Branching out further, the eclectic set features heavy noise from Christiansburg’s Dog Scream, laid-back rhymes from Appalachian rapper geonovah, and a dynamic newgrass instrumental from string whiz Yasmin Williams. Many of the participating artists live near pipeline construction. 

“I like to think of the whole thing as an incredible tapestry of the music in the affected region of the pipeline,” says Parker. “It covers a lot of bases and turned out to be a special thing that touches upon a lot of different types of music.” 

With a heavy hand in the song sequencing, Bachman filled one of the slots, contributing a banjo-led take on Hobart Smith’s “Last Chance.” He also enlisted his dad to sing a version of the 1960s song “The Coal Tattoo” to honor an elder relative who worked as a miner and suffered the titular injury.

Bachman now lives in Madison County, not far from Shenandoah National Park, and the landscape has inspired a new zone of creativity, resulting in a fascinating new phase for an artist still known best as a skilled fingerstyle guitar innovator. His 2022 album, Almanac Behind, captured climate anxiety through natural disaster field recordings, and his latest effort, last year’s When the Roses Come Again, interprets a family lineage of old-time music through a digitally processed lens.

“He’s a truly inspirational artist and a gift to Virginia,” Parker says of his collaborator. “Daniel is a forward-thinking human and that translates to his music in a vibrant and poignant way.”

Bachman says he’s currently working on a piece he calls a “play-by-play” of the recent wildfires near his home. “In the last four or five years something has clicked,” he explains of his musical pivot. “It’s energizing to bring awareness to historical events and some of the stuff we’re living through, like climate breakdown. Disaster tunes are just another type of story song that we’ve always had in this region’s creative communities. I think of it as extending that tradition.”

Parker and Bachman have plans to organize a series of regional live events, likely in Charlottesville and Washington, D.C., to promote the compilation. Proceeds from the sale of STOP MVP, available as a limited-edition CD or digital download at WarHen Records webpage at online music platform Bandcamp, are donated to the nonprofit Appalachian Legal Defense Fund, which is assisting those working to stop the pipeline construction with legal expenses.

According to Parker, “It’s a way to give back to the people that have been in this fight for a long time.”

Categories
Arts Culture

Following a Southern Star

Brent Cobb has written hit songs for Nashville heavyweights like Luke Bryan, Little Big Town, and Miranda Lambert, to name a few. But throughout the handful of records he’s released under his own name, he’s always carried himself with a laidback ease, projecting backroads’ casualness instead of polished Music City ambition. He sings with a loose and languid drawl, often sounding like a passive narrator a few tokes deep on a rural front porch, telling cautionary tales or pining for simple pleasures. Even as he’s found plenty of success (he recently opened stadium gigs for Luke Combs), he always seems to be longing for a more relaxed setting. As he puts it in “Country Bound,” from his Grammy-nominated 2016 album Shine on Rainy Day: “There’s many people all around me. / But the feeling’s not here I’m trying to find.”

So Cobb, one of the chillest dudes in Americana, decided it was time to get back to his roots. Just ahead of recording his latest album, the October-released Southern Star, Cobb left Nashville for good and moved back to his native Georgia. Accordingly, his new effort is a heartfelt homecoming statement that finds him deep in his comfort zone. 

To make the self-produced LP, Cobb went to Macon and recorded at Capricorn Sound Studios, the historic spot where the Allman Brothers Band, Charlie Daniels, and Percy Sledge made landmark works in the lineage of Southern rock and soul. To hone the vibe, Cobb assembled a cast of Georgia-based musicians, who helped him effortlessly move between gritty country-funk and vintage ‘70s folk-rock sounds. The result is a collection of songs with easy-going grooves and throwback influences about the relief of returning to the familiar.

“Livin’ the Dream” is a greasy, deep-in-the-pocket jam that extols the virtues of kicking it in the countryside when the world at large is overwhelming. In between wailing harmonica fills, Cobb nonchalantly sings, “There’s no phone line, so I make conversation with the warm sunshine.” The wonders of nature are also praised in “Shade Tree,” a breezy acoustic tune Cobb wrote with his wife and sister.

Cobb doesn’t spend the entire album with his head in the clouds—he also uses his cosmic pondering to process grief. In 2021, one of his best friends, Jason “Rowdy” Cope, a guitarist in the edgy country-rock band The Steel Woods, died at the age of 42. Southern Star is partially named after a bar where Cobb and Cope used to hang out, and in the album’s title track, a soulfully reflective song with gentle keyboard vamps, Cobb sweetly recalls his partying days as a “temporary treat,” before once again letting his mind drift towards home.

Being a musician—even an in-demand songwriter—is a relentless hustle. It seems from now on that if Cobb has anything more to say, it’ll come from an anonymous stretch of highway. As he sings in the swaying country ballad “Patina”: “If we get to rolling too fast, life will downshift on us.”

Categories
Arts Culture

Song explorer

It’s a sunny day in Amsterdam when Josh Ritter checks in with C-VILLE, taking a phone call while sitting along one of the city’s many canals. When reached in early April, the Americana tunesmith was on a solo tour in Europe, the country where he first found success, playing with the likes of Joan Baez and Glen Hansard in the early 2000s.

A restless creative, Ritter juggles his prolific musical output with painting and work as a best-selling novelist (his latest book, The Great Glorious Goddamn of It All, came out in 2021), but right now he’s focused on his new album. Spectral Lines. Released on April 28, Ritter’s 11th studio effort finds the poetic lyricist in a deeply reflective state, in songs that first took shape while the singer-songwriter was dealing with the loss of his mother and the uncertainty of early pandemic isolation.

But throughout the album’s 10 tracks, Ritter channels emotional turmoil into an empathetic look at the universal aspects of loneliness and existential uncertainty, and the accompanying music perfectly sets the mood. Working with producer Sam Kassirer, Ritter shapes the songs around celestial piano fills and waves of synth, resulting in atmospheric, free-flowing arrangements that move beyond the roots-based leanings of his earlier work. He’ll perform at the Jefferson on Tuesday, May 9.

C-VILLE: You asked fans to cover your new song “Honey, I Do” before they heard it, giving them the lyrics and basic sheet music, and then asking them to post videos of their interpretations. How did you come up with this unique idea?

Josh Ritter: I personally think when you have a verse you should be able to write it down and have it leap off the page. So I was interested in seeing what people could do with it, and I was blown away. People interpreted it in so many ways, but at the heart of it, it was just for fun.

Heartbreak is something we all feel to a certain degree at some points in our lives, and as a thesis for the whole record I was trying to share how I feel sometimes. I was reaching outwards and starting a conversation and also making a statement that in many ways we’re all the same. 

Sonically, Spectral Lines has a mellow, atmospheric mood, with many songs flowing together. How did this musical direction take shape? 

This record came together far differently than any other I’ve done. The seed was planted during the early days of the pandemic, so I didn’t know how we were going to record the songs. I wrote [fourth track] “For Your Soul” when I was back home in Idaho while my mom was dying, and at the time I had no way to get into a studio. I started to share the ideas with Sam Kassirer, who I hadn’t worked with as a producer in over 10 years. I knew he would be the only one who would get them, so in his hands they started to take shape.

We decided to work on small batches of songs and create them in a certain style. I wanted them to flow together like a walk down the hallway of my mind at that time. And I wanted to create something that represented that there had been a change in peoples’ lives.

How do you balance different areas of creativity—music, painting, writing prose? 

Day to day, it’s what you can do with little chunks of time. When I’m home I’ll paint for a couple hours while the kids are at school, or I’ll write for 15 minutes. Then if I get deeper with an album or a novel, collaborators come in or I go where the work leads me. But those short times during the day are fun and really make me happy.

You worked with the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir on his solo album Blue Mountain. What did you take away from that experience?

He’s a truly generous artist and an inspiration. I got a chance to send him what I consider some cowboy songs that I had written, and he was really receptive. When I was working on those, I was imagining him in a Western movie. He was a kindred spirit in doing what he wants to do and following his wanderlust.

You’re releasing your 11th album dating back to 1999. How has songwriting changed for you in the past decade-plus?

Writing of any kind is hard to discern. You just put things down and move on. I can’t describe it from my own angle. I just know I feel an electricity and love writing. I’ve felt that way ever since I was 16 or 17 and realized I could share my own stories and play guitar and sing what I actually felt. That still remains the most profound experience.

Categories
Arts Culture

Bringing banjo back

Bill Evans left a lasting impression on the Charlottesville music scene. After graduating from the University of Virginia in 1978, the innovative banjo player stuck around town and started a concert series at C&O Restaurant with Cloud Valley, his bluegrass outfit. 

The group, which also featured award- winning bassist Missy Raines, would also host guest bands and recruit premier string acts, including Peter Rowan, Hot Rize, and Sam Bush and Bela Fleck’s Newgrass Revival, to share the bill. 

The series of gigs had an intimate grassroots vibe—with capacity at around 140 people—but it helped put Charlottesville on the map as a friendly stop on the national acoustic music circuit, and set Evans on a path toward a four-decade-plus career as a performer, composer, author, and teacher. Now, he returns to Charlottesville on September 28 to play The Southern Café & Music Hall with a six-piece group touring as the California Bluegrass Reunion. 

“We ran the sound, put posters up around town, and got to meet our heroes,” Evans says about his early career, during a phone interview from his current home in New Mexico. “And we had a great local audience. There was a really supportive environment for music in Charlottesville at that time.” 

While booking the C&O shows, Evans often found himself hanging out with the instrumental masters he admired, gathering knowledge during his formative years as a musician from banjo aces like Tony Trischka and J.D. Crowe. “These folks would oftentimes spend a few days with us, and that’s where musical associations really blossomed,” he says. “The bluegrass community, across generations, is really welcoming, so it moved us all forward professionally.” 

Cloud Valley toured nationally and earned slots at some of the top bluegrass festivals in the country. Evans says one of his favorite gigs with the group was opening for Doc Watson at Old Cabell Hall. 

After the band members parted ways in 1985, Evans eventually moved west to attend graduate school at the University of California, Berkeley. Music education and academic study have since remained big parts of his work. He’s written multiple books on banjo instruction and given lessons to younger successful players including Greg Liszt of Crooked Still and Chris Pandolfi of the Infamous Stringdusters. 

Evans’ long-running solo show, The Banjo in America, offers a historical tour of the instrument, tracing its roots in Africa to current styles of playing. A CD/DVD set of the performance, which covers 250 years of the banjo’s sonic evolution, came out earlier this year.

The release adds to his lengthy discography, which includes a handful of solo albums and credits as a member of Due West and Dry Branch Fire Squad.

During his time in California, Evans became embedded in the Bay Area’s progressive string scene, collaborating with some of the genre’s biggest boundary pushers, including mandolin whiz Mike Marshall and dynamic fiddler Darol Anger.

Both appear on Evans’ guest-heavy 2012 album In Good Company, perhaps the most well-rounded look at his fleet-fingered prowess. On the record, winding instrumental compositions mix acrobatic fret work with nuanced, jazz-minded explorations. It features the multi-dimensional acoustic style that Evans will showcase in his return to Charlottesville with the California Bluegrass Reunion. 

The lineup came together as an offshoot of the California Banjo Extravaganza—another one of Evans’ creative touring projects—and features an all-star lineup of Golden State pickers who boast stacked resumés. In addition to Anger, who’s spent time in the David Grisman Quintet and Republic of Strings, the show will feature renowned mandolin player John Reischman, a founding member of the Tony Rice Unit. Bass duties will be handled by Sharon Gilchrist, a versatile player who toured for many years in Rowan’s band, and additional fiddle power will come from Chad Manning, another Grisman alum. 

“It’s a superpowered bluegrass jetliner, especially with the double fiddles,” Evans says of the group, which is currently on an extremely rare East Coast tour. “It has a really big sound. We’ve all been around the block and most of us are bandleaders. The focus is on original material.”

The show at the Southern is being presented by local radio station WTJU, where Evans hosted a bluegrass show for more than a decade. It’s another callback to his early roots. 

“When I return to Charlottesville it doesn’t feel like things have changed all that much,” Evans said. “For me, the landmarks are still there.” 

Categories
Arts

Playing through it: Derek Trucks talks perseverance after loss ahead of Lockn’ gig

There were moments, Derek Trucks admits, that he wondered how Tedeschi Trucks Band—the electrifying 12-piece Southern roots outfit he leads with his wife, powerhouse blues vocalist Susan Tedeschi—could continue. In February, the band’s keyboardist/flute player Kofi Burbridge passed away after battling heart disease, and a couple months prior, longstanding bassist Tim Lefebvre had left the group to pursue other projects. Two years earlier, Trucks, a former member of the Allman Brothers Band, also lost his uncle, ABB’s drummer Butch Trucks, and the band’s leader, Gregg Allman, who both died in 2017. Ultimately, the ace guitarist, who’s also toured with Eric Clapton, persevered: “The only way we know how to deal with things like this is to play through it,” Trucks says, during a recent phone chat from his home in Jacksonville, Florida.

On February 15, the same day Burbridge died, Tedeschi Trucks released its fourth studio album, Signs, a dynamic roots-driven effort shadowed by grief. The group had also just finished headlining its fifth straight Wheels of Soul Tour, an amphitheater trek featuring a rotating cast of like-minded artists. This weekend, the band tops the bill on Saturday night at Lockn’, where they will be joined by Phish guitarist Trey Anastasio, who in kind will welcome Trucks for a set with his solo band on Friday.

C-VILLE Weekly: You just finished Wheel of Souls for the fifth straight year. What do you enjoy about the collaborative tour?

DT: It’s good for the band to see how others operate. When you go out for six weeks, you really get to know people. The first few years it was mainly people we were really familiar with—Doyle Bramhall, a close friend, and Los Lobos. This year I didn’t know the Blackberry Smoke guys or Shovels & Rope very well, so before we started the tour in Jacksonville we had a big cookout at the house. We ended up having great chemistry. There was zero drama, which is usually impossible with 60 people on the road for that long. The sit-ins were really good, and I think we made some lifelong friends.

Signs, understandably, has heavy- hearted moments that address your recent losses. Has playing the songs live this summer helped with the healing?

We got ultimately tested the day the record came out, which is the day Kofi passed away. That’s the closest we ever came to canceling a gig. Playing has been super therapeutic and cathartic, but also really hard. There are certain tunes, every single night, where I’ll remember a part that he wrote or not hear his flute in a certain place, and then it really hits hard. You can hear it in the whole band, and notice when someone on stage is having a Kofi moment.

For such a large unit, the band sounds really unified on the record, and you and Susan give the other members moments to shine. After a decade, has it gotten easier to figure out how to showcase your deep talent pool?

It gets easier, but then it gets harder, when you lose someone. When Kofi got sick, [keyboardist] Gabe Dixon stepped in with a beautiful mindset, and the band had to mentally recommit, and everybody pulled really tight together. It’s shocked me how far the band has come this quickly and how healthy it feels, musically. Everyone is digging a hell of a lot deeper, because there’s a new sense of purpose.

Is there anything you learned playing with Gregg Allman or Eric Clapton that you apply to your role as a bandleader?

I’ve learned that if there’s anything keeping the engine from running clean, you have to confront it and clear the air. Things don’t have to be perfect personally, but if you’re not in it for each other, there are hang-ups that prevent you from exploring and playing your best shit. You have to create a space where people feel comfortable. In this band when something doesn’t feel right we wear it on our sleeves, and that makes it easier to fix.

You’ve become regulars on the Lockn’ lineup. What keeps bringing you back?

At first it was the family reunion vibe—running into Phil Lesh, Jimmy Herring, and my brother (Duane Trucks of Widespread Panic). We don’t do a ton of festivals on purpose, but familiar faces always made this one feel good. Then when we did Mad Dogs with Leon, and that was just a magical few days; it was a heavy lift to learn all that material, but it was one of those collaborations that exceeded expectations and really felt like it mattered. I heard from a lot of people that it was an important reconnection for Leon, since it was near the end, and it felt good for us to be a part of history being passed down. That wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for the festival.

And this year you’ll be swapping sit-ins with Trey Anastasio. What do you admire about his guitar playing?

Trey is a really thoughtful player, and he listens. I like playing when you get to a place when you’re thinking intelligently, almost like working on a puzzle, and Trey is great at finding those places. I’m looking forward to finding that space, where the playing almost has a playful dialogue. There are a lot of good ideas bouncing around, and everybody on both sides thinks this is going to be really fun.

Categories
Arts

The way it is now: Bruce Hornsby on sonic evolution and collaboration

It’s hard to follow all of the creative turns in Bruce Hornsby’s lengthy career. The smooth-voiced innovator hit it big in the mid-’80s with “The Way It Is,” and his musical path since has been anything but predictable. He’s played in the Grateful Dead, ventured into jazz and bluegrass collaborations, and fostered a partnership with Spike Lee, composing music for a variety of the filmmaker’s projects. Recently his influence has been championed by a range of popular indie artists, including Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, who has a big presence on Hornsby’s latest effort, Absolute Zero, one of his most heady, experimental albums to date.

With additional help from Jack DeJohnette, Blake Mills, Dead lyricist Robert Hunter, and New York-based chamber sextet yMusic, the record, released in April, combines elements from Hornsby’s broad sonic palette into a bold 10-track statement. The versatile pianist/songwriter, a Williamsburg, Virginia, resident, spoke with us ahead of a co-headlining show at the Sprint Pavilion with Amos Lee on Sunday night.

C-VILLE: This record is what I’d call experimental chamber pop/rock. Was that a grand vision or did it come together gradually with help from the collaborators?

Bruce Hornsby: I’d say your description is pretty solid, although I might take the “rock” out of it, other than the Robert Hunter collaboration “Take You There (Misty).” There was a basic vision for the record from the start. It felt cinematic for a good reason—most of the songs started as film cues; film music I wrote for Spike Lee. But the chamber aspect came into full focus with some of the film orchestrations I already had, and the New York recording session with yMusic that featured Rob Moose’s soulful and creative arrangements.

When you’re writing a song, what typically comes first—the music or the lyrics?

There’s no one standard model. Lots of these songs were written, again, with music coming first because of the cues. But three songs were written with lyrics first: “Never In This House,” “Voyager One,” and “The Blinding Light Of Dreams.” Those three songs are extremely musically disparate, stylistically.

“Cast-Off,” which features Justin Vernon, has an interesting kind of self-deprecation in the lyrics. Can you explain what inspired it?

Justin and (music/producer) Brad Cook invited me to come to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, to work on new music and play a gig with them in 2018. I came bearing gifts—film music compositions I thought Justin may respond to. One of the pieces he liked was a cue that I called “Cast-Off.” I had decided I needed to write a semi-grand, end-credit piece, so I was listening to the end piece from the Tom Hanks film Cast Away, and got an idea from that. I came up with these words depicting someone who accepts and even embraces rejection; a song about humility and patience in the face of this. Justin added the pre-chorus and we were off.

At points, “Take You There (Misty)” has a throwback feel to your early work. What’s the story behind that one, working with Robert Hunter?

Hunter reached out to me in 2008 asking if I would be interested in writing a song with him. He asked me to send him a piece of music, and two weeks later I received an email with these amazing words syllabically matching my melody. That became “Cyclone” (from 2011’s Bride of the Noisemakers), and we’ve written three more since. “Take You There” took awhile to develop. I added the “(Misty)” to the title because I came to feel like it was my Father John Misty song.

You’ve tapped into collaborations with the likes of Ricky Skaggs, Spike Lee, The Dead, and Justin Vernon, among others. How are you able to gel with such a wide variety of artists?

The four names you mentioned, which happen to be the four deepest and longest-lasting collaborative relationships in my career, have some things very much in common: They’re all extremely high-level performers and creators in their very different fields of artistic endeavor. In every case they were people for whom my music was important, and so they reached out to me. They’re all artists whose work has moved me greatly, so every time my answer was an easy “yes.”

With an extensive discography, how do decide what goes into the current show? I imagine the new album songs will require some interesting arrangements with your band.

This record, for the most part, is a bit spacier, even trippier, than a lot of my earlier records, so there is a challenge in making all of it blend well together. In some cases we’re beefing up the arrangements so they can follow some of the early work. We’re also quickly finding ways to expand on the original record blueprint with the new songs, which is always enjoyable for restless musical souls.

You’re a Virginia native and you still live here. What keeps you in the Commonwealth?

I love that my mom is still around and I’m able to visit her every few days when I’m home, and that some of my old friends from high school basketball days still live around here and we can hang out a lot. Also, being a sentimental old fool, my sons were able to go to the same elementary school I attended.


Bruce Hornsby performs with his band the Noisemakers on a shared bill with Amos Lee to benefit the Charlottesville Free Clinic on Sunday, July 21, at the Pavilion.

Categories
Arts

Blackberry Smoke expands musically on new album

Bands rarely come as well-rounded as Blackberry Smoke. For fans of open-minded Southern rock, the five-piece outfit covers all the bases—pensive highway songs, distorted, arena-ready scorchers and bluesy explorations doused in Dixie grit. The group emerged from Atlanta in the early 2000s, and, as required by independent bands since the turn of the century, hit the road relentlessly. Early favor came from jam band fans attracted to the group’s sonic kinship with the Black Crowes and Gov’t Mule (Crowes lead singer Chris Robinson named the band Blackberry Smoke), but in subsequent years, the versatile act’s stylistic leanings have been harder to pin down.

“We make the music that we make, and wherever it lands for people, that’s cool,” says frontman and lead guitarist Charlie Starr, when asked to describe his band’s sound during a recent phone interview. “From the inception of the band it’s been questioned. It’s too confusing to try and figure out where we fit; I gave up a long time ago. We used to have a T-shirt that said, ‘Too country for rock ‘n’ roll, and too rock ‘n’ roll for country.’”

Acceptance has gradually expanded as time has gone on. With little radio exposure, the band has now notched two Billboard chart-topping country albums (2015’s Holding All the Roses and 2016’s Like an Arrow), and the group’s latest, Find a Light, should only broaden its appeal. Released in April, the new record covers a wide breadth of influences—from freewheeling ’70s rock to stripped-down, front porch folk. 

“It’s way more enjoyable to make a record that’s all over the place,” says Starr. “I think it’s interesting for the listener, as well. My favorite records growing up were exactly that way—from Exile on Main Street to Physical Graffiti.”

Strains of those masterworks by the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin, respectively, can be heard in the dusty jangle of “Run Away From It All” and the bluesy muscle of opener “Flesh and Bone.”

Starr started the album in co-writing sessions with Keith Nelson of Buckcherry, then the band knocked out the recording in two weeks at an Atlanta studio. In the past, the group has worked with notable producers, including Brendan O’Brien, but this time decided to rely on its own instincts. Despite not using a producer, the band was open to collaboration on a few of the new album’s standout tracks. Nashville songstress Amanda Shires delivered sunny backing vocals in the breezy acoustic strummer “Let Me Down Easy,” and pedal steel wiz Robert Randolph worked his fleet-fingered magic on the fiery gospel rocker “I’ll Keep Ramblin’.” Randolph originally wrote the music for the latter as an instrumental, and Starr added lyrics. 

 “Mother Mountain” features The Wood Brothers harmonizing with Starr through a halcyon folk song that exemplifies Find a Light’s consistent lyrical theme—staying optimistic while being reminded about our country’s pervasive state of political divisiveness. As Starr puts it: “Our culture is saturated with negativity daily, thanks to the media and social media. I guess I was thinking, ‘There’s nowhere to go but up.’”

Blackberry Smoke joins JJ Grey & Mofro for co-headlining dates, including a stop at the Sprint Pavilion on Saturday night, before taking on opening duties on Lynyrd Skynyrd’s farewell tour. Starr says witnessing Skynyrd fans enjoying the band live for possibly the last time has been a poignant experience. “They wrote songs that continue to move people, across generations. How many bands can say that?”

Categories
Arts

Cry Cry Cry embarks on a brief reunion tour

Cry Cry Cry is back together, but not for long. A collaboration between established folk singers Dar Williams, Richard Shindell and Lucy Kaplansky, the harmony-based trio formed two decades ago to release one album before members went their separate ways to focus on individual careers. The project mostly sat dormant until last summer, when an invitation to perform at the lauded Clearwater Festival in New York brought the three artists back together. Now they’re on a 12-show spring tour, which stops at the Jefferson Theater on Saturday night, but, according to Williams during a recent phone interview, it’s likely one of the last opportunities to see the trio combine their voices on stage.

“I don’t think we’re going to do this again,” she says. “We love performing, and we love rehearsing, but we just couldn’t commit to making a full-length album this time. It seemed like a miracle enough that we were able to come back together.”

News of the short-lived reunion will be a bummer to longtime fans who’ve been hoping for more. The group’s one album, a self-titled effort released back in 1998, is a cult favorite in folk circles. The set of mostly covers found the singers delivering some of their favorite songs by other artists with intricately layered vocal arrangements. Starting with a take on the R.E.M. hit “Fall on Me,” the album goes on to bring sophisticated harmonies, both gentle and soaring, to songs by Robert Earl Keen, Julie Miller and Greg Brown, as well as lesser-known songwriters like Canadian James Keelaghan.

During the comeback shows, the group members have been leaning on songs from their one record, as well as selections from their own solo catalogs. They’ve also found time to add some different material to the repertoire. Back in February, the trio digitally released a recently recorded emotive version of the Jump Little Children ballad “Cathedrals.”

“The first thought is, ‘Do we have anything to bring to the song?,’” Williams says, when Cry Cry Cry choses tracks to sing. “Then there’s just something about adding harmony to a song that’s beautifully written. When you add harmony you show that the song has its own beauty, apart from its original performer, that can grow. That’s an exciting thing, because you don’t know if it will work until you’re doing it. The more you sing together, the better it goes.”

Individually, all three members of Cry Cry Cry are prolific singer-songwriters. Williams has released nine full-length albums dating back to the early 1990s. Last fall she also published a book, What I Found in a Thousand Towns, about the community-driven resurgence of small cities. Kaplansky, once a staple of the New York City folk scene in Greenwich Village, has released half a dozen albums and collaborated with Shawn Colvin and Nanci Griffith. Shindell, whose tunes have been recorded by Joan Baez, is known for writing vivid story-based songs that he delivers in the first person as different characters. Williams says Shindell’s diligent work ethic deserves credit for the unique dynamics of Cry Cry Cry’s song arrangements.

“Richard will go into his studio with his guitar and emerge at the end of the day not realizing that it got dark outside,” she says. “Music is a really deep language for him, so there are a lot of subtleties that he pulls out in the way that he arranges things.”

The trio’s initial formation was spontaneous; while touring together more than two decades ago, Williams and Shindell started singing duets during sound checks. After realizing they had vocal chemistry, they decided to bring Shindell’s frequent collaborator, Kaplansky, into the mix.

The mission of the group has always been to shine a new light on songs the members mutually admire through three-part harmonies, and Williams believes the singers have a special connection that can be hard to find. One of her favorite memories is getting the group to sing Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind,” the first song she ever learned on guitar.

“Live performance of music is so much of what my life is about, and I’ve had career high points on stage with Richard and Lucy,” Williams says. “We can be singing together without looking at each other with the exact same timing and the exact same phrasing. During the tightrope walk of trying to find those things together, we’ve had magic moments where everything lines up perfectly.”

Because the landscape of the music industry is much different now than it was when the group made its debut, pursuing a second album was deemed unfeasible. They’re planning to release a few more songs from some recent short recording sessions and tour though the middle of the month.

Although Williams seems pretty certain this is the end, she won’t entirely close the door on Cry Cry Cry. “Nothing teaches you never say never like coming together 20 years later, but this is it for the foreseeable future.”

Categories
Arts

A quick chat with Phil Lesh: Grateful Dead bassist talks Lockn’ return and missing Jerry

At 77, Grateful Dead bassist Phil Lesh is mostly done touring, but that doesn’t mean he’s done playing music. Besides some semi-regular gigs in and around New York City, Lesh can mostly be found these days on stage at Terrapin Crossroads, the Dead-themed club he opened in 2012 near his home in Marin County, California. Fortunately, for Deadheads in Virginia and surrounding states, Lesh never misses the Lockn’ Festival. In fact, in the last four years he’s been a part of some of the event’s most interesting collaborations. Last year he went acoustic and played Dead songs with bluegrass aces The Infamous Stringdusters and members of Phish, and in 2015 he put together a special lineup of his Phil Lesh and Friends that included Carlos Santana.

Lesh returns to Lockn’ this weekend, where he’ll play two sets on Friday with his Terrapin Family Band. The second will reunite the bassist with his former bandmate Bob Weir, who joins the group to play the Dead’s 1977 album, Terrapin Station, in its entirety. Lesh will also join upstate New York jam band moe. for a collaborative set on Sunday. Ahead of the festival, Lesh took a quick call from C-VILLE Weekly.

 

C-VILLE: You’re mostly off the road, but you never miss a Lockn’. What keeps you coming back?

Phil Lesh: Essentially, it’s the combinations of artists that [Lockn’ promoter] Pete [Shapiro] puts together for the festival. He has a knack for that sort of thing, and it’s always stimulating to play with different people. The set with moe. was Pete’s idea. [moe. guitarist] Al [Schnier] has sat in with my bands, so this will flip the coin and give me a chance to play with them. For me, that’s a welcome opportunity.

You’re performing Terrapin Station with Bob Weir to honor the album’s 40th anniversary. What do you remember about recording the album?

The studio is always a blur; same old, same old, day in, day out. There’s nothing that really stands out.

The Terrapin Family Band has become your main outlet. How has that band developed in the past few years?

It’s basically made up of the stable of young musicians that we have at Terrapin Crossroads. That’s where I’ve been focusing my energy for the last five years, and this band grew out of that. I chose the most compatible musicians from that community to form this band, including my son Grahame and one of our cousins, Alex Kofford. We play really well together, and as we’ve been able to play more often, we’ve created some really great chemistry.

You mentioned Terrapin Crossroads. How do you feel the space is moving the Grateful Dead’s music forward?

It’s developed beyond my wildest dreams. My favorite part is playing for free in the park on a summer afternoon. Right up there, too, is reading stories and singing songs for kids on Sundays.

As an innovator on the bass, is there another bassist that you particularly admire?

I love Jack Casady’s playing. Jack Bruce was a gas. Then, of course, there’s [Charles] Mingus. There are many that definitely inspire me.

We’re speaking on the 22nd anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s death. Did you have a specific thought about him today?

Just the same thought I have everyday: “Damn, I miss this guy.”