Posted in Uncategorized

Anna Ling Finds Spiritual Truth In Science and Nature on Light

Anna Ling is in tune with something much bigger than herself. It’s natural, scientific, and spiritual. Carefully considered and instinctual. Anyone who listens to Light will understand that Ling has a unique connection to the world around her. She describes the human condition as being part of a mycelium, after the wide-reaching interconnected underground fungi. 

What’s remarkable is that even other creatures sense her respect and love for all that’s alive. Sitting in a barn, Ling received a visit on her shoulder from a butterfly.

“The tips of its wings had gotten caught up with cobwebs,” said Ling. “I brought the butterfly onto my hand and spent awhile just taking the cobwebs away from the butterfly’s wings and I managed to take enough of them away that they opened back up again. I took the butterfly outside and it flew away.”

It’s a serene and joyful moment. For Ling, it led to a beautiful piece on love and the interconnectedness of every being. A chance event became an opportunity for her to reflect: “I’m not really good at asking for help. I think that’s part of our hyper-individualized culture. The experience was such a huge gratitude. I felt like this butterfly had trusted me with this huge task.” 

It was Ling’s line about mycelium that really drew me in. It’s an obscure bit of knowledge that is only acquired through actively seeking more information about nature. Evolution, the Big Bang, and plenty more ideas more at home in a textbook show up on this fairly artsy folk album. 

“I love the imagery in science,”said Ling. “I love science as a creative way of understanding the world. I’m less into the nuts and bolts and more into the way these ideas make me feel.”

On “The Moon,” Ling addresses a relative so distant that she was among the first to leave the ocean: “Daughter of sea/

Grandmother tell me/Did you long for the land/What old song drew you up from the deep?”

Again, Ling starts reaching across the mycelium for connections.

“There are cultures around the world where they know the stories of their ancestors for numerable generations,” said Ling. “I don’t really know my grandparent’s grandparents. That’s kind of where the cutoff is. There’s this incredible mystery that goes all the way back to oneness.” 

She describes our one earliest ancestors as prone to kindness: “Some cell that decided to integrate its fellow cell rather than kill it.”

While most would agree that sexuality is part of the natural world, Ling writes as though the natural world is part of sex. On “Limerence,” she writes I am blood I am grit/With my thighs around your hips/I am the waves crashing cliffs/I am tectonic shifts

“Is sexual connection not one of the most intriguing and strange and wonderful part of this human experience?,” asked Ling, who said she often writes in moments of overwhelm. “Most of my most intense experiences have been romantic sexual relationships.”

A standout moment on the album compares a dead seagull tangled in plastic to Jesus Christ. One died for our sins, the other died as a result of them. The fact that we’re aware that life will eventually end is what Ling believes sets us apart from other life forms. Part of wondering about humanity and the natural world is contemplating death. 

“The structures that we’re living within will end; I can’t see how they won’t,” said Ling. “But we don’t know what’s on the other side. I feel like we’ve got everything to play for. We don’t have to necessarily nosedive into the sea.”

Ling’s spiritual beliefs, while unconventional, share a foundation with that of many other religions.

“I firmly believe that the core of this being is love and peace and light, said Ling. “We do tend to cover it up very successfully, but I have a great faith.”

Don’t let the lyrics distract you from some absolutely gorgeous sounds. Ling’s vocals range from airy to throaty on “Inevitable,” which would’ve made a sonic impression anyway its African folk instrumentation. The remaining nine songs are mostly rooted in English folk, as one might expect from a Devon artist. There’s something slower and softer about this music, though. The light Ling named this album for is not a harsh sun on a hot day, but one that illuminates and soothes. It’s gently penetrating the canopy on a walk through the forest. It’s just strong enough to see by and lasting enough to keep searching. 

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Anna Ling and the songs we discussed, starting with Butterly, which demonstrates that even nature understands Anna’s connection to nature. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Monday at 4pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://www.annaling.co.uk for more.

Posted in Uncategorized

Ross Thorn Mixes Absurdity and Profundity on Fitting In

Fitting in is not easy to do for many people. At 6’8”, Ross Thorn quite literally has trouble fitting in. Airplanes and cars are not his friends. There’s no disappearing into the crowd for a man who towers above it. Yet Thorn plays the situation for comedy before making a quick pivot to a more meaningful thought.

“There’s lots of people who have an even harder time fitting in,” said Thorn before listing a few marginalized groups. “Society doesn’t make it easy.” 

That transition in our conversation exemplifies two of the reasons Fitting In is such a beautiful work. First, Thorn is confident in his use of humor and his ability to leverage it to make a point. Second, he’s deeply empathetic, even when discussing his own problems. The third selling point of the album is Thorn’s recognition that there’s no shortcut when it comes to emotional processing.

The title track is a radical example of the self love needed to heal. Thorn steps out of his body to sing to himself, ending the song by repeating the phrase “I love you so.” 

“It’s a newer thing for me to say to myself,” said Thorn. “It feels really good to get to a place where you can say that.”

Thorn’s songwriting is certainly at its sharpest when he’s involving humor. On the song “Midwestern Goodbye,” Thorn chooses to demonstrate rather than describe a drawn out farewell. There’s even a point where the song comes to a natural end and the music stops. And yet, it continues.

“Goodbyes take forever. We’re all aware of someone who takes 45 minutes standing in the doorway,” Thorn said of his native region. “I think it’s a beautiful cultural phenomenon. I think it’s longing to connection in an area that has brutal winters.”

What starts with a joke ends with a deeper observation. There’s gentle humor like “Midwestern Goodbye” and then there’s cringe-worthy dark humor on “Pick-a-dee-day.” Grandad always said to keep your head up, the song’s logic goes, so any problem is all a perspective of attitude. Thorn goes so far as to tell an orphan to smile. By that point, the lines have even ceased to rhyme. The world view his character has been living with is causing him to crumble. 

“It’s inspired, weirdly enough, by The Lion King. Simba’s dad gets trampled in a stampede and then he meets two whimsical characters,” Thorn recounted. He’s not a big fan of Hakuna Matata in the face of such extreme circumstances. 

“I think you should worry about that.” said Thorn. “I think that’s something to process.”

“Scripts written by generations before us like ‘man up.’ There’s dangerous things to do or pass along,” said Thorn. He recognizes the importance of a good mindset, especially in the dark stretch we’re living through, but has come to understand that grounding exercises only work if you’re using that ground as a foundation for further work. 

“It’s not going to just be breathing exercises, because holy crap, everything is terrible,” said Thorn. “But if we need to get in a good headspace and feel motivated and hopeful, sometimes we have to catch our breath in order to actually make change.”

The most impactful listen on the album is written by Thorn from the perspective of a woman (“An exercise in empathy,” he called it) but sung by The Spine Stealers. “Far Away” is about escaping a bad situation in a worse way. The character meets a man and sees him not for who he is but for the opportunity he represents: “For a fleeting moment/I could find my hope in him./He could take me far away real soon.” She soon finds herself across an ocean and once again dreaming of escape.

“It’s the same stuff because everything you carry with you is there until you face it,” said Thorn. “One of my biggest breakthroughs in therapy in recent years is to sit in discomfort and give it the space and acting with a clear head.” 

Thorn, a man who has dealt with some emotional issues and lives the sort of life that allows him to travel far and frequently, thinks the notion that we just need to find greener grass is flawed.

“It’s less escaping and more confronting,” said Thorn. “I don’t think it’s possible to just run away.” 

When it comes to the multitude of problems facing the world right now, it may literally be impossible to run away from it all. Not even the would-be trillionaire crowd has built a rocket to Mars yet, and even that would feel isolating. The solution Thorn offers is on the opposite end of the coolness spectrum. “In a world full of anger/I’ll bear a grin,” he sings.

“To be able to find a smile is really a gift,” Thorn said. “I’m able to find that joy and that’s really special.”

That joy doesn’t come from being told to feel joy. Sometimes it’s the result of dark humor at the expense of a Disney classic. Sometimes it’s the result of accidentally terrifying an old woman while dressed as a clown on the railroad tracks in an effort to shoot an album cover. Sometimes it’s even less sexy than that.

“I love you so,” Thorn repeats nine times at the end of his album. If he has to say it that many times for it to sink in, so be it. It seems more effective at helping Thorn smile than any folk wisdom about needing to do so.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Ross Thorn and the songs we discussed, starting with the title track, which may be the type of talk we all need to give ourselves. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Monday at 4pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://rossthornmusic.com for more.

Posted in On Air, Top Picks

Rebecca Porter Refuses To ‘Roll With The Punches’ Any Longer

Testimony can be a uniquely powerful thing. Rebecca Porter airs her struggles on her powerful debut album Roll With The Punches, but she’s not looking for pity. Whether Porter is outlining what not to do or expressing raw determination, she’s crafting a survival guide. It’s a portrait of someone emerging from the darkness of abuse who believes she deserves more with the zeal of a convert. It’s also a bit of a reckoning with cosmic justice: few albums have started with a more powerful first line than “God blessed the men who did me wrong too many times.”

The change in Porter’s thinking is most clear if you use “The Devil” as a starting point. 

“I kept excusing things that were happening because I had seen worse or that this isn’t something new to me,” Porter said when we spoke. This darkness included abuse inflicted on her as a child and violence inflicted on her as an adult. Somehow, she never let the darkness consume her. 

“I’ve always had this innate belief of hope,” said Porter. “Even though times could get really terrible, I just felt like on the other side of it was something better.” 

It took a long time for Porter to get from a mental health crisis to making music. Therapy, which hadn’t been much help earlier in her life, finally made a real difference. 

“I felt that I had moved on from it enough that I could use writing and music to further find my voice and keep pushing out of those cycles and away from the triggers that could easily take over an entire day or week,” said Porter. 

Porter’s transformation came in part as a result of her son. 

“Having my child and the journey that I’ve been on with him and needing to advocate for his needs has further enabled me,” said Porter. “I’m actively working to counter those experiences and trauma from my life to ensure his life is different.”

One pattern she sought to break was that of her parents, who got caught in a cycle of payday loans and bad finances. “Life grips onto two stubs in your hands/Interest running through your fingers like sand,” she sings on the album. Another situation she sought to avoid was bad religion. Exclusion and even aggression towards people who are othered is the sort of thing that’s left Porter conflicted on the topic. It led to particularly painful lines about the notion that others do not want her to exist.

“It’s very unfortunate, I was raised independent fundamental baptist. I was the only person other than my sister who looked like me in that church,” said Porter, of Pacific Islander ancestry. “It wasn’t until I went to public school that I really noticed a shift in how I was treated.”

During our conversation, she spoke most passionately when she imagined speaking to someone using their faith to discriminate. 

“What happened to you to make you so hateful and so mean that that is what you see in other humans,” asked Porter, who is non-binary. “There’s a huge demographic of people who are afraid of others because people have been demonized to them. It’s very sad to me. “If God is in control, then why does God let children get cancer? There’s this bigger reason, but queer people existing is not part of that? I just see people as who they are and who they tell me they are. It’s not for me to decide. “I don’t know if I’m in line enough with my spirituality to say if God makes mistakes, but I don’t consider people and who they are mistakes.”

Porters voice is clearest on the title track. She describes how much abuse and pain she swallowed, warning that she “almost died.” 

“Just holding onto the trauma and the cycles of abuse and swallowing everything that’s been handed your way will inevitably consume who are. It’s probably impossible for your self talk to be anything but negative and hateful,” said Porter. She credits therapy with a major change in her thinking. “There are times when I still have negative talk, but I understand that’s not how I should speak to myself. That was a learned narrative. I still have times when I have to remind myself that I am worthy of good things. I don’t have to do anything extra to prove that I am worthy to exist.”

Therapy has even allowed her to react to the blessings men who abused her have received. 

“If I’m focusing on their blessings and all of the good things happening for them, I might be missing things that could be happening for me or things that I could be working on to get out of the situation,” said Porter. “I spent so much of my life wanting an apology or wanting an acknowledgement from those men in my life. I learned that with many of them, that was not going to happen.”

Moving forward, Porter is ready to hold people to standards similarly high to those to which she holds herself.

“Safety is something that is a concern for me, it’s a concern for people I play with,” said Porter. “I’m not willing to chance my own safety or people who play in my band or family’s safety because I ignored those signs.” 

Rolling with the punches has meant Porter knows from which direction they come.

“You’ve been here before. You’ve heard these words from someone before,” said Porter. “Where did this lead in the past? I don’t have to just accept what they’re willing to give me.”

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Rebecca Porter and the songs we discussed, starting with Shadow of Doubt, which shows Rebecca emerging from a mindset in which she accepted poor treatment. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Monday at 4pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://www.rebeccaportermusic.com for more.

Posted in On Air, Uncategorized

Marina Florance Captures Stormy Emotions In Serene Songs

In a world where everyone shouts and attempts to dominate through law and violence, Marina Florance gets her point across calmly. There’s tremendous purpose behind that style. Whether it’s a spoken word piece that sounds like it’s delivered by a gentle English granny – an accurate assessment – or a quiet folk song, Florance’s music lets her lyrics do the speaking loudly. Speaking up, or even more literally speaking, become repeated topics on the album. Florance sympathizes with the voicesless, whether they’re emotionally unable to express themselves or simply swallowed up by the harsh realities of our political culture.

On “A Few Days In May,” Florance tells the story of a woman in the hospital pointing to a “nil by mouth” sign to justify not speaking. Anyone who goes through such a serious illness certainly has a right to feel overwhelmed. 

“The withdrawal of their voice is still power,” Florance said. “It still gives them something they’ve got control over.” 

Florance finds a lot wrong with communication these days. On the one hand, everyone has the power to post on social media or, say, to a folk music blog. On the other, it seems like those in power are only interested in hearing the most extreme voices. She views conflicts as situations that can be improved in a way that preserves the dignity of all weather than pick a side. There’s nuance in issues like that, but absolute conviction in how human beings should be valued. The climate as it currently exists is not great for voices like hers.

“It doesn’t matter how hard you shout or what the reasoning is, it makes no difference,” said Florance. “I think a lot of us shut down to the extent where we say nothing.” 

She’s worried that people are actively rejecting the notions of compromise and democracy.

“I’m always trying to placate, but no one wants it anymore; they just want conflict,” said Florance. “And I’m not sure that talking in a world that just wants conflict really helps. So I write stuff down. I’m quite old. We’ve seen this thing so many times. And to be coming around this block again, it’s exasperating, it really is.”

The best sung track on the album, “Shadows,” is an intimate description of mental illness that could truly only be authored by someone with a good understanding of it.

“You just wake up one morning and there it is. It doesn’t matter if it’s sunny outside. This shadow comes over you and you have to find your way through it. It could last a day. For some people it lasts forever,” explained Florance. “It feels like you’re never going to see the light again. You can come out again at the other end of it, but you don’t always come out completely.”

The song explores the fact that while in the throws of depression, people may not want to have a talk about it at all times. “I don’t answer/No I don’t say a word/I turn/I look away,” Florance sings, describing a scene in which a loved one tries talking to her about her situation. She’s simply not able to discuss it at the time.

“Mental health issues are so complex. You need support. You need good people around you,” said Florance. “To have 24/7 news showing the struggles of other people can really impact how you feel as well. I can feel it inside. It’s hard because we don’t really have any control. We only have our voices, if we choose to use them.”

In order to improve her mental condition, Florance said she wished she could adjust a knob of some sort to turn her empathy down a little. Because she can’t, she lets it out in searing tracks like “Blue Skies.” “Birds fly across their blue skies/missiles fly across yours,” Florance sings about what could be several sets of leaders of countries, though she remains ambiguous purposely. 

“As soon as you place your stake in the ground, people will not listen to it the same way,” Florance explained of her decision. “The message is the same for any conflict. It has to be across the board. I’ve never lived in a time where it’s as bad as it is now.” 

Florance has certainly not lost her hope in humanity; when it comes to the average person, the opposite is true. 

“I think the human race is successful because the majority of people are helpful,” said Florance, “The worst of human behavior is what you see on TV. “I’m on the side of an ordinary person to just enjoy their life. They’re not very long, really. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, is it?”

Florance has only recently added her soul-penetrating spoken word songs to her repertoire. She explained that songs can switch from simple poetry to a full musical arrangement during their development. Sometimes she finds room to do both: she’s written children’s books and recorded herself singing them. She decided to go with spoken word and eerie music on “Blue Skies” for the sake of making the blunt track’s powerful statement seem measured, a powerful contrast to how most other folks are handling modern life. 

The album does end on a hopeful but realistic note. “Every Color of Your Rainbow” implores the listener to feel joy, get things done, and express themselves in the good times, recognizing that the opposite could be around the corner. On most albums, this would be a light and insignificant song. On an album full of depression and a terrifying picture of our world leaders, it’s a guide to finding time and space for happiness. Times may be bad, but they don’t have to be devoid of any positive feeling.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Marina Florance and the songs we discussed, starting with A Few Days In May, which is both whimsical and profound. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Monday at 4pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://www.marinaflorance.com for more.

Posted in On Air, Top Picks

Coltt Winter Lepley Builds Community By Describing ‘Universal Human Experiences’

On my radio program, I’m always looking for songs that can lead to a good conversation. Rarely have I met an artist who seems to value that aspect of their own songwriting quite like Coltt Winter Lepley. He writes intelligent folk songs that bestow dignity on blue collar characters and understanding to those suffering. A self-described member of the Woody Guthrie/Pete Seeger camp of songwriting, Lepley wants to create change through his music, though on a different scale. He repeatedly mentioned that he felt his job was to capture some sort of “universal human experience” and ease barriers to conversation.

When Lepley saw a good friend’s mugshot on Facebook for a drug-related offense, he decided to write a heartbreaking song about it. I got the sense that the minute he saw the photo, he began to consider a world without his friend.

“I think it’s a very human reaction to start the process of mourning. You try to protect yourself from those things,” said Lepley. “A number of folks I’ve graduated with have passed away from overdoses. I lost a cousin to fentanyl. I think addiction is super common and we should have a base level empathy for folks.”

The Rust Belt-based singer isn’t overtly political in his writing or public speaking, but he’s certainly active in combating addiction. It’s a problem all across America, but especially common in the depressed factory towns of his region. He carries Narcan and helped organize a conference at his college that drew participation from addicts, doctors, and politicians from both sides of the aisle. 

“I don’t know if they finally warmed up to the information or there’s been so many people addicted that you just can’t ignore the problem, but I do think things have shifted,” he said of the elected officials. “They showed up, and that was more than I expected, to be honest.”

Music fits neatly into Lepley’s brand of community building. His songs tell emotional, often personal stories and elicit strong reactions from listeners. Without knowing this, I wound up telling Lepley a bit about the way addiction touched my family. 

“If those songs inspire people to talk about things in a comfortable way, I think that’s the coolest thing in the world,” said Lepley.

Another track he said often leads to quality discussions is “Toilet Wizard,” a tribute to his plumber father.

“If a million people hear Toilet Wizard, dozens of blue collar father/children relationships will be healed,” Lepley theorized. 

The track celebrates his father’s work ethic and willingness to help a customer in distress no matter when he was called. There are hints that they didn’t always get along, but this song is all love.

“I got to see the trope of what a blue collar worker is,” said Lepley. “You go whether you want to or not. You put your nose down and work hard in spite of all those things. My dad was gone a lot of Christmases working on calls. I think my dad is the epitome of what a modern folk hero could be, with the problematic things too. He didn’t like the song at first, but now he comes to shows when I’m close and he asks for ‘Toilet Wizard.’”

The respect Lepley has for his father and his fellow ‘pisser wizard Merlins’ seems to be growing in an age where AI is replacing white collar jobs and making blue collar employment more secure and respectable. “It’s not so bad being a plumber,” Lepley sings.

“It feels like the respect is catching up in a way that’s important. I’m a big proponent of worker’s rights and the blue collar guys,” said Lepley. “Every worker deserves dignity. Every person deserves dignity.”

Lepley is certainly a student of folk music history. As we discussed the reality of AI, he cited the mythical folk hero John Henry and a song from the 1800s about a shoemaker facing competition from a machine. In certain professions, like his father’s, Lepley believes humans will continue to have a place.

“I think it’s going to be really hard to program a robot to diagnose a furnace and then fix it and deal with the customer on what quite often is their worst day,” said Lepley.

Though only six tracks long, Lepley’s debut EP runs nearly a half hour and features high quality songwriting. “I’ll miss the way your laugh was like fine music/conducted by a songbird driven mad,” Lepley sings on “A Tear Addressed To You,” a standout song about love lost. “Bandito should have the most radio potential and tells a dark outlaw story in a way that’s compelling and fun. “Doves and Pine Boxes” proves he knows how to handle a banjo and “Sunflower Creek” is a moment of relaxation on an otherwise intense collection of songs.

Lepley is truly an artist to watch. The songwriting talent is undeniable, and he genuinely seems driven to participate in music for the right reasons. Throughout our discussion, he consistently came back to the theme of providing a service of sorts to his audience. In this time of division, Lepley celebrates the fact that people in his community are still willing to help each other. He clearly enjoys the fact that his shows are a small part of that.

“I’m certain that there’s a lot of folks from both sides that come to shows, and they get along really well and sing together,” said Lepley. “Let’s retain that unity.” 

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Coltt Winter Lepley and the songs we discussed, starting with Toilet Wizard, a profane and loving tribute to Lepley’s father. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Monday at 4pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://www.colttwinterlepley.com for more.

Photo by Adam Parshall

Posted in On Air, Top Picks

Profound, Direct, and Shocking, Brittany Davis’ Black Thunder Is A Strange, Free-flowing Masterpiece.

Brittany Davis explores the concepts of sightlessness, beauty, race, and history on her new album Black Thunder from a curious, bold, and blunt perspective: the singer, who was born without eyes, repeats the phrase “you get what you get, don’t throw a fit” often on the first track. 

While it also explores other subjects, “Amid the Blackout of the Night” spends time wondering about the world Davis can’t see. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s really a sky,” she sings on the track. The track, like others on the album, features a rhythmic piano that stays in the background while Davis launches into a magnificently long ramble that sounds almost like she hadn’t planned any of it ahead of time. This works so perfectly on this track. The questions come out so naturally, remain unanswered, and are then compounded by the next observation of moment of wonder.

The notion of cosmetic beauty, one Davis naturally has less experience taking in than most, is particularly of interest on the track. 

“We’re willing to take the initiative to change ourselves, to fit a mold that never existed, to perfect our bodies, our situations, our image, even to the degree of environmental harm,” Davis said. “We’re willing to commit genocide on certain groups of people just because they don’t look or don’t act or don’t function in the way that we see fit.”

Davis does not exclude herself from the criticism:

“There’s many things that I do that can harm the environment myself just so I can look cool and sound dope.”

While Davis never seems to engage in self-pity, she acknowledges that her life is a good deal different than others’. 

“I get treated like somebody that deserves less because I have two organs left than the average man,” Davis said. Still, her goal isn’t to reject beauty. “Image is not bad. To see things that are attractive to you are is not bad… If we can’t see the beauty of our mother’s smile or a friend’s laugh, then the stars will just be little dots of light… It’s how we handle the processing and the intellect that goes into who is or what is or isn’t attractive. That’s how we lose grip with reality because you don’t have this figure or that smile.”

A particularly fascinating concept Davis explores is that of “Mirrors.” Her inability to see may be most profoundly difficult when it becomes her inability to see herself.

“As a blind person, the entirety of how I see myself comes from other people,” said Davis. “For me it’s like a funhouse mirror. No matter what mirror you look in, you never see the same image. Some people will give me glowing reviews and some people will say you’re too fat, you’re too thin, you’re too black. Now my mental image and my spiritual image, and my emotional intelligence, that stuff, that I can work with.”

Davis, a deep thinker and profoundly curious, wonders if most people are also missing access to one of their senses. In this case, it’s one they should be able to find.

“It’s painful to see the depth of perspective that’s missing in modern society sometimes, at least on the surface,” said Davis. “I think all of us know better, but we don’t want to admit it because then a big piece of us would have to change.”

“Sarah’s Song” is a jaw-dropping, painful description of life as a slave that is explicit and over the top. It’s meant to be. Davis changes the way she speaks in the song to a style that’s much less refined. She’s officially stepped away from the microphone; Sarah is performing now.

“I was surprised at what she had to say,” said Davis. “For so many black bodies, minds, and spirits that were broken beyond our imagining, we had something to say in that studio.” 

She explains the change in presentation as both historically accurate and necessary to hear the perspective of someone deprived of a proper education. 

“Ancestrally, we were not given the power to speak in those ways,” said Davis. “We had to be dignified and polished even in our activism. We couldn’t fight if they get rough with us. But there was a need to deliver energy to the brokenness. I’ve never seen slavery in person, but it’s just baked in. Her story is a part of my story.”

Despite everything discussed in that song, and everything she’s hearing and having to comprehend now, Davis has a kind message for our country: “I love you America, and I hope that you learn to see yourself. I hope that you learn to love yourself despite the atrocities you’ve caused.”

“My bible tells me to love my neighbor as I love myself,” said Davis. “America is my neighbor. Despite all of her flaws, I love her and I see her because I know what it means to feel desperate.”

As matter of fact as Davis is about her lack of eyes, she’s just as sentimental about our nation. Of the two, the latter winds up being the more inspiring. If Davis can love and wish well on America, others should certainly be able to. She might not be able to take in the purple mountains majesty or amber waves of grain, but Davis can truly see our country. And she can see hope.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Brittany Davis and the songs we discussed, starting with “Amid the Blackout of the Night,” which wonders and indicts. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Tuesday at 12pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://brittanydavismusic.net for more.

Posted in Uncategorized

On Golden Hour In The House Of Lugosi, Kate Vargas Is A Vintage Hollywood Icon.

It’s not a coincidence that Kate Vargas uses the word ‘vintage’ in the first sentence of her glittering new album Golden Hour In The House Of Lugosi. There’s a punch and pizzaz to her sound that screams of yesteryear while her lyrics are modern, subversive and intelligent. Her emotional performances, each suited to the subject matter of the song, make each of these energetic character studies all the better. 

“Nothing Turns My Lock” exemplifies the bold energy of this album. The imagery is quite explicitly sexual, though that may be nothing new for jazz.

“There are some old jazz singers who go really far,” Vargas explained. “They just didn’t necessarily make the albums. Definitely will make you blush.”

The increasingly liberated character explores her identity and sets her boundaries. Her relationship is open, but it’s committed. It’s just that one person can’t quite satisfy every need she has. 

“We have this idea that our partner should be everything,” Vargas said. “I think it’s unrealistic and unfair.”

The lyrics throughout the album are significantly more modern than the sound. “Nothing Turns My Lock” was perhaps the most conscious application of that effect. Vargas described the song writing session as looking to push new bounds.

“We all grew up playing jazz music,” said Vargas. “We were talking about lyrical themes in those standards and how [they haven’t been] updated for current times. They tend to be romantic and heterosexual and monogamous. We felt like it needed an update.”

The best song on the album, and one of the best so far this year, is “I Once Was A Contender.” Vargas inhabits someone who thought she could’ve made something of her life. Instead she’s dealing with depression and madness. Much like the character feels she could’ve made it as a big screen actress, Vargas gives an Oscar worthy performance selling the mood. The questions of identity and expectations are the theme Vargas constructed the album around. Here, she feels sympathy for a character who doesn’t recognize her current worth.

“What I want for her is to realize that her value is great whether she’s on the big screen or whether she’s in small town New Mexico and never left,” said Vargas. 

“Serrated Knife” shows the extent to which Vargas can create a mood. The music changes tempos. Her vocals are blunt and frustrated when they need to be. In describing the difficulties of cohabiting, she figures out that her complaints might not be all that well founded. 

“Inevitably I’ll realize that I’m the problem,” Vargas said of her real life. “I will say I’m not an easy person to live with.”

The choice of weapon here is crucial. Serrated knives don’t exactly slice through cleanly.

“It is a very specific kind of knife,” said Vargas. “It’s really sharp in most parts, but over time it’s something you saw with.[In a relationship] you can have those beautiful moments of total elation and have these aspects grinding away.”

The choice of using legendary horror actor Bela Lugosi’s name in the title of the album feels random at first, but he winds up representing the sort of exploration of identity that each song represents.

“Talk about being put into a role,” Vargas said of the actor famous for playing Dracula and other early film icons. 

For her part, Vargas does not feel type cast. 

“I definitely have never felt restricted in my creative output by anyone outside of myself and I think that’s very important,” said Vargas. “For us to be able to express all aspects of ourselves is to be able to hold all parts of ourselves.”  

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Kate Vargas and the songs we discussed, starting with “I Once Was A Contender,” which is a dynamic portrait of someone who is quite stuck. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Tuesday at 12pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://katevargas.com for more.

Posted in Uncategorized

For Lael Neale, Society Is Becoming Altogether Stranger

Most people would have to agree that American society is going through a major upheaval at the moment. That started Lael Neale asking questions and she hasn’t stopped at recent history. “It’s just a little lonely/without the ground below me,” she sings on Tell Me How To Be Here, one of several tracks on the album that sound like a surreal lullaby and pack a tremendous lyrical punch.

“We are often born into sterile hospitals and taken from our moms and have things injected into us. It’s a crazy way to come into the world,” Neale said when we spoke. “I see society as insane now and completely unnatural.”

Los Angeles exemplified her disconnect from the modern world. The sights are emotional and the sounds cause sensory overload. When she lists features of modern society on “All Good Things Will Come To Pass,” she intentionally includes symbols of inequality and things we really don’t need. The music and pace intensify as she reveals the damage we’ve done to each other and the planet may be more lasting than the things we intentionally created.

“You’re always faced with some kind of sadness or pain or disturbance,” said Neale, describing “constant human activity that’s impinging on our mental space.”

Social media means fewer chances to escape from the suffering she observed on the city streets. Left wing feeds regularly display images of Gaza while those on the right focus on crimes committed in cities or by immigrants. In this particularly unpleasant moment it seems the whole spectrum is sharing conspiracy theories about Jeffrey Epstein. The pain is everywhere.

“Either people are in denial of that, or are hyper focusing on it and letting it rule and destroy their lives,” Neale said. “It’s a strange time to be navigating all of these things.”

The notion that we look to others for instructions is difficult for Neale to grasp. She’s a fierce individualist who sees schools as often crushing something vital in young people. At the same time, she asks Google for advice.

“I’m often looking to other people and outsourcing my own power because I don’t want to go through the trouble of knowing how to be in the world,” said Neale.

She’s fairly optimistic about the future of individualism, though not without acknowledging some worries.

“Arguably we’re the most free we’ve ever been now. There have been way more authoritarian times in human history. Maybe we’re heading more in the direction of individualism,” Neale said, hopeful that recent policy changes are not long lasting. “I think it’s a reaction to progress. You take a bunch of steps forward and the pendulum swings back.”

The conflict between the way things should be and the way things are is personified as a rebellious human teen wrecking the house while God isn’t watching.

“We are smarter. We have a better idea,” Neale said humans act like they believe. She disagrees. “We’ve completely gone off the rails. Are things going to line up or are we just going to go down that path of self destruction?” 

On “All Is Never Lost,” Neale argues that we still have a chance to get right with nature. “There’s still a light inside of us,” she sings, describing modern conveniences as having a cost, or “the weight of what we want.”

Neale credits producer and instrumentalist Guy Blakeslee with the discordant nature of many of her songs. She says his input has helped her overcome a major insecurity about sounding too sweet on songs about serious topics.

“He brings a counterbalance to something that could be more sweet and lulling,” said Neale. “I appreciate that, I feel like the songs need a riptide to pull it back in.”

Altogether Stranger ends with “There From Here,” a song set in an airport. Neale describes a surreal experience of duty free liquor and portals and security checks, but also a hope of moving on. Despite her lyrics, she revealed she’s a fan of most aspects of the airport.

“I like people watching and eavesdropping on people’s conversations. You’re always facing your own mortality when you get in a giant metal thing that’s flying through the sky. I sometimes think that makes people nicer to each other at the airport,” said Neale, adding that the scent of the perfume sales counter is a bit nightmarish. “It’s a perfect microcosm of our society. All the goodness in people and blatant capitalism and the authoritarianism of the airport attendees.” 

Neale’s own story of discomfort with the city ends with a trip to the airport. She left LA for her family’s farm in Virginia. 

“For me the most medicinal thing has been being in nature and being much more in control of what I’ve been taking in every day,” said Neale.

The airport is an unexpectedly profound symbol as well. It’s not always easy to change your location or your frame of mind. There are people acting as metaphorical security preventing you from moving forward and challenges at least as daunting as the shops with perfume.

“I’m constantly trying to move from one state of being to another and having this kind of angst propelling me,” Neale said. “But you can’t get a positive place from a state of mind of depression or anxiety. You have to step into the there that you want to go to before you get there.” 

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Lael Neale and the songs we discussed, starting with Tell Me How To Be Here, which sadly only partially mocks the notion of asking for advice on how to live from strangers on the internet. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Tuesday at 12pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://www.subpop.com/artists/lael_neale for more.

Photo by Seven Ruck

Posted in Uncategorized

Jack Barksdale Forges A Fragile Peace With Humanity and Oblivion on Voices

At only 17, Jack Barksdale is the youngest guest I’ve yet to have on my show. That does not seem to have stopped him from having an existential crisis.

“There’s a pie in the sky idea that someday we could advance enough to where we could move humans away from Earth. If we could actually move somewhere else, would it even be worth it?” said Barksdale when we spoke. 

After pressing him a bit, he relented that the concept of his song “The Cost” may be a bit harsh. 

“I’m using that as a way to point out that humanity is kind of messed up,” said Barksdale.

It’s concepts like this one that make Voices compelling and unique. Most professional teen musicians are either instrumental prodigies or singing about broken hearts. Barksdale is able to pinpoint the moment in the sun’s expansion that will render the Earth uninhabitable and use that knowledge as a springboard to ask a question as profound as whether humans as a species have earned the right to get a second chance on another world. He also has the wisdom and objectivity to know we probably wouldn’t do much better somewhere in space. Humans are “weaponized, glorified Homo Erectus” “just running from the grips of society and Father Time.” 

“Science is a lot more integral to philosophy than people think,” said Barksdale, noting that he’s constantly looking to learn from credible sources and differing views. His pandemic rabbit holes were healthier and more grounded than most, but no less life changing.

“Information is a powerful thing. It’s what the brain runs on,” said Barksdale.

“The End of Days,” which Barksdale described as being addressed to a more ‘common listener’ is blunt about things like the inevitability of death but much kinder about the situation. “We’ll have our fun/then we’ll make our day/to that sweet decay” he sings, softening the blow that not much matters.

There are truly different approaches to examining human existence. “A Funny Song” seems to take in the wonder of it all. On “Entropy,” Barksdale sings “we need to understand we’re not meant to be here and we’ll be leaving soon.” There is absolute despair in a song that ends in the words “I’m tired of rhyming.”

Another thread that runs through Voices is that of the oversized ego. “21st Century Savior” and “The Man, The Myth, The Legend,” both satirize those who see themselves as great. The latter takes aim at those who want to be great without deserving it. The former is absolutely sacrilegious in the most profound way: “Daddy put you here/and he can take you back,” Barksdale sings, seemingly as Jesus.

If there’s a song that gets at Barksdale’s personal emotions, it’s “A Song of the Artist.” The world is not ending in this one, but it shows the frustration with being a serious, passionate artist in this or any era.

“I think Van Gogh very well could go unrecognized today,” Barksdale said of an artist who also went unrecognized in his own time. “Especially with the serious songwriting, there’s not a ton of infrastructure for that to succeed. There’s never been a ton of infrastructure for it, but it has gone into the mainstream at times like in the 60s and 70s.”

He sees some hope in the internet reaching the right audience, but struggles with notions of what it takes to succeed even without industry middlemen. 

If you don’t fit what the algorithm wants, you’re going to have less opportunity and also there’s such volume of people that have the same platform, so it becomes saturated,” said Barksdale.

Still, the chants of “art defines me/art enshrines me” at the end of the song reveals a frustration with it all. Barksdale is right to suspect that algorithms won’t deliver his music on a large scale. Albums like Voices are for a very narrow audience, but the depth of thought and despair here along with some brilliant moments of provocation make it an extremely rewarding listen for those seeking a deeper cut.

At only 17, Jack Barksdale is the youngest guest I’ve yet to have on my show. That does not seem to have stopped him from having an existential crisis.

“There’s a pie in the sky idea that someday we could advance enough to where we could move humans away from Earth. If we could actually move somewhere else, would it even be worth it?” said Barksdale when we spoke. 

After pressing him a bit, he relented that the concept of his song “The Cost” may be a bit harsh. 

“I’m using that as a way to point out that humanity is kind of messed up,” said Barksdale.

It’s concepts like this one that make Voices compelling and unique. Most professional teen musicians are either instrumental prodigies or singing about broken hearts. Barksdale is able to pinpoint the moment in the sun’s expansion that will render the Earth uninhabitable and use that knowledge as a springboard to ask a question as profound as whether humans as a species have earned the right to get a second chance on another world. He also has the wisdom and objectivity to know we probably wouldn’t do much better somewhere in space. Humans are “weaponized, glorified Homo Erectus” “just running from the grips of society and Father Time.” 

“Science is a lot more integral to philosophy than people think,” said Barksdale, noting that he’s constantly looking to learn from credible sources and differing views. His pandemic rabbit holes were healthier and more grounded than most, but no less life changing.

“Information is a powerful thing. It’s what the brain runs on,” said Barksdale.

“The End of Days,” which Barksdale described as being addressed to a more ‘common listener’ is blunt about things like the inevitability of death but much kinder about the situation. “We’ll have our fun/then we’ll make our day/to that sweet decay” he sings, softening the blow that not much matters.

There are truly different approaches to examining human existence. “A Funny Song” seems to take in the wonder of it all. On “Entropy,” Barksdale sings “we need to understand we’re not meant to be here and we’ll be leaving soon.” There is absolute despair in a song that ends in the words “I’m tired of rhyming.”

Another thread that runs through Voices is that of the oversized ego. “21st Century Savior” and “The Man, The Myth, The Legend,” both satirize those who see themselves as great. The latter takes aim at those who want to be great without deserving it. The former is absolutely sacrilegious in the most profound way: “Daddy put you here/and he can take you back,” Barksdale sings, seemingly as Jesus.

If there’s a song that gets at Barksdale’s personal emotions, it’s “A Song of the Artist.” The world is not ending in this one, but it shows the frustration with being a serious, passionate artist in this or any era.

“I think Van Gogh very well could go unrecognized today,” Barksdale said of an artist who also went unrecognized in his own time. “Especially with the serious songwriting, there’s not a ton of infrastructure for that to succeed. There’s never been a ton of infrastructure for it, but it has gone into the mainstream at times like in the 60s and 70s.”

He sees some hope in the internet reaching the right audience, but struggles with notions of what it takes to succeed even without industry middlemen. 

If you don’t fit what the algorithm wants, you’re going to have less opportunity and also there’s such volume of people that have the same platform, so it becomes saturated,” said Barksdale.

Still, the chants of “art defines me/art enshrines me” at the end of the song reveals a frustration with it all. Barksdale is right to suspect that algorithms won’t deliver his music on a large scale. Albums like Voices are for a very narrow audience, but the depth of thought and despair here along with some brilliant moments of provocation make it an extremely rewarding listen for those seeking a deeper understanding.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Jack Barksdale and the songs we discussed, starting with The Cost, which puts on full display Barksdale’s connection between science and philosophy. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Tuesday at 12pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://jackbarksdale.com for more.

Posted in On Air

On Larry McCray’s “Heartbreak City,” A Good Man Sings The Blues

Larry McCray has undoubtably witnessed a lot of change in his life. He grew up in rural Arkansas with no electricity or running water. He went to school during desegregation and at one point was nervous to mingle with white musicians. He survived a devastating divorce that went public due to his ex wife’s financial crimes. He’s facing back surgery after decades of touring have taken their toll. Yet, his love for music remains the same.

“My body’s not the same, but I’m still very enthusiastic about going on the road,” McCray said when we spoke. “The music tastes as good as it always has.”

On Heartbreak City, McCray benefits from years of wisdom, a new life and songwriting partner in Peggy Smith, and production and financial backing from blues superstar Joe Bonamassa. 

Still, it was a 25-year-old lead track in “Try To Be A Good Man” that caught my attention and set the stage for his grounded, relatable “Heartbreak City.” This isn’t a blues of exaggerated pain or raging libido; McCray excels as a man doing his best to handle modern life.

On “Try To Be A Good Man,” McCray advises the listener that they don’t have to be perfect in order to do their best at being a good partner. You may not have to “work two jobs,” but you probably should “give her all the love you can.” 

“It’s not a perfect world, but I thought that was a very good way to give each alternative,” McCray explained. “You have an option to do the right thing.” 

The song reminds us that the all moments of slight weakness we all experience — perhaps looking in the direction of another woman — don’t have to define our self image if they don’t define our actions. “You know what’s right/you know what’s wrong/late at night, you know where you belong,” he sings.

As relatable as this message may be for men, Smith wasn’t impressed. 

“Why do you have to try?” McCray recalled her asking him. “Why can’t you just do it?”

All joking aside, the partnership has been transformative. 

“Peggy changed my whole life,” McCray said. “Long story short, I had a very unpleasant and tumultuous marriage. But when she came into my life it was the best thing that ever happened to me and my relationship with women.”

It doesn’t hurt that she’s a great lyricist.

“She just says all these things and it’s easy for me to put music to it,” said McCray.

McCray is quite an optimist considering the genre he represents, and that comes through on this album. “Bye Bye Blues” and “Keep On Loving My Baby” are straight up happy songs, but “Bright Side” captures the determination with which he handles difficult situations. “Instead of counting the tears that you cry/take a look on the bright side,” he sings on a song that could very much be describing his divorce.

“The only thing to keep you going is life itself,” McCray said of his tenacity. “Until your life ends, you have to live. I look at it as not having a choice. What ever it is, that obstacle, you have to believe you can conquer it.” 

He explained his optimism has come from witnessing so much progress in his life. Growing up in the segregated South with few luxuries or modern conveniences amazingly set him up to have such a healthy attitude now.

“It was like living close to 100 years behind your time,” said McCray. “Coming from an environment like that really gave me a lot of grit. When you are forced to live in a less favorable environment, you have a lot of appreciation for the positives in life.”

Unfortunately the progress McCray has witnessed, he said, is showing signs of faltering in the last decade. Songs like “Hangman” capture a bit of that anxiety and pain. The scene in which a man interrogates a preacher on the pulpit about the loss he experienced is about as raw as the album gets. It also wades into political territory when describing fears of police violence. In the end, there’s not much to be done when the hangman swings his rope.

“I’m not a real political person, but sometimes you can say in a song what you can’t say in conversation,” said McCray. “It goes from a direct application to a thought in general.” 

Yet, he remains an optimist. There are certainly messed up people in this world, but a story from his youth reminded him that hope arises anew with each generation. When he saw his white school friends in public, they weren’t allowed to acknowledge each other. But back in class, they were excited and happy about the encounter. 

“The children didn’t have a problem with each other but a lot of the old ways the parents were teaching them had to be overcome,” said McCray. “I think the majority of people are past all this stuff.”

McCray would like to see progress be made again, yet he’s still able to appreciate how far we’ve come.

“I’m grateful for the fact that at some point in my life there was an acknowledgment and people were moving in the right direction,” said McCray. “It just proves that given a chance, people don’t have a problem with people. I’m so happy that I don’t live a segregated life anymore. That’s what life is all about, the exchange of culture. So many people are afraid of what’s different than themselves. It ain’t really that they hate somebody.” 

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Larry McCray and the songs we discussed, starting with Try To Be A Good Man, which maintains both realistic standards and accountability. The interview begins with the second video in the playlist. You can hear the show live every Tuesday at 12pm on WUSB 90.1 FM or check the blog to watch it as a YouTube playlist. Visit http://www.WUSB.fm and https://larrymccrayofficial.com for more.