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 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.

Posted in On Air

On “You & I Are Earth,” Anna B. Savage Finds An Unexpected Wholeness

When love is right, it feels right. Anna B. Savage had no problem being single and didn’t imagine a future like this. But it was love, and it felt right.

“This warmth, this is how it should be,” sings Savage on the lead track of her album “You & I Are Earth.” 

“It’s lovely but it’s also scary,” Savage said. “It’s been very surprising to me. I didn’t think I’d feel this way for someone ever. And I didn’t have any qualms about that. I really loved being single.”

Savage underwent a few major changes to create the experiences for this album. She moved to Ireland for grad school and decided she enjoyed it there. In “Donegal” she expresses her “vast lack of knowledge” on the subject of British Irish relations as she wonders if she’s found a home “forever.” 

“There’s a very long history of colonization and cultural and literal genocide against the Irish people,” said Savage. “It’s not really taught about in English schools so you learn about them peripherally, but they’re not peripheral at all. It was sobering to fill in some of the gaps in my knowledge about English and British history.” Still, she says, “I have been met with only loveliness and generosity.”

“Donegal” also contains a request from her mother: don’t fall in love while in Ireland.

“Obviously I failed horrifically,” said Savage, acknowledging she was much more unlikely to move back home. “I’m happily in love, but yes, my poor mom.” 

Ireland is a world Savage prefers, and finding a true love just adds to that feeling of rightness.

“Here, my understanding of nature and my experiencing of it, that barrier is much more dissolved than it is in London,” said Savage. “In London I feel I need to go out of my way to find the natural world. Even though, obviously, we are part of the natural world. Having that closeness feels good. It makes much more sense for a human existing in a body.”

“Mo Cheol Thú” details some magnificent intimate moments between the couple, as does “I Reach For You In My Sleep.” It’s not just the clearly real details that make the relationship come alive. Savage’s shock at the whole thing is somehow more touching than anything else. When she reaches for her partner in her sleep, it’s an extraordinary feeling. “That’s never happened to me,” she sings. The unexpectedness and newness make it magical, as does the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction she’s giving off. The fact that he’s just as mystified about reaching back adds to the perfection.

As a touring musician and an independent person, Savage needed to find a slightly less conventional love. “The Rest of Our Lives” covers the fact that time apart can be just as valuable as time together when finding an ideal match.

“One of the important things for this relationship is that we are both very independent,” Savage said. “That merging, sometimes it can be an assumed nice thing and then actually it turns a bit bad. It’s been nice to feel connected and together but not always merged.” 

“I love living apart sometimes/because it’s okay/there’s no rush/we’ve the rest of our lives,” she sings.

“I feel very secure, very calm,” said Savage. “Whether we miss each other or whether we’re annoyed that we’re getting under each other’s feet because we’re together for too long, it just feels manageable and calm.” 

Savage explains that the title of her album relates to the way everything about her relationship feels natural and right. It also covers her adoration for her new home. She rejects the idea of fate or soulmates, but is open to this interpretation of perfection.

“It’s a connectedness, a rootedness, a connection with everything,” said Savage. “If I’m a tree in the earth, I will see many storms and probably most of them won’t knock me over. And even if I do get knocked over, I’d become a part of the earth in another way. My body would be feasted on and become a habitat for things in other ways.” 

The album matches its title. Savage’s voice, often deep and low, matches well with earnest guitar picking and a few moments where high notes and backup singers reach toward the heavens. The warm, minimal nature of the sound is a great fit for the humbleness Savage displays in accepting love and happiness as such a pleasant surprise. 

Though it isn’t heavily addressed on the album, Savage did note the importance of self love quite beautifully during our conversation.

“It’s something I’ve been struggling to do my whole life. I think if I hadn’t had worked as hard at it as I had, I wouldn’t have found the type of love that I have now,” said Savage. “Also, it’s just nice to be nice to yourself. Why wouldn’t you?”

Above are the songs that were aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including Donegal, which finds her quite at home in Ireland. Anna has requested that the full interview not air on YouTube, but the music is there for you to engage with. 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://annabsavage.bandcamp.com/album/you-i-are-earth for more.

Posted in On Air

Pug Johnson Goes From Hilarious Rogue to Loving Husband on El Cabron 

Pug Johnson may not be “El Cabron,” which roughly translated to bastard, but he certainly knows how to write a song as one.

“It seemed like a fun, mischievous type of a guy who would have a lot of good stories,” Johnson explained of the concept for his album. The funny stories work quite well, especially when he later adds some depth to the character.

El Cabron, at the peak of his childish antics, is not the type of guy you’d want to be around as a woman. On “Last Call,” Johnson well-worn trope in which it seems like he’s about to drop an f-bomb. Brilliantly, he flips the script again by using the cop out to get even more explicit: “Get out of your head/get into my truck/I know a nice spot where we can go suck/on some Dos Equis beer/maybe an ear or a toe.” 

“He can’t just say the expected thing,” Johnson said of his character. “He’s got to go for a little bit of a shock factor.” 

The joke works better than almost any other time it’s been used because by the end of the refrain, every listener and possibly even the woman he’s singing to wishes he would’ve just said fuck and  kept it more normal. 

“El Cabron” strikes on a few more songs including “Pipeliner Blues,” a song that leads to a double entendre about laying pipe, and “Buy Me A Bayou,” in which the title of the track is rhymed with “something worth kissing I could lie to.” Johnson identifies with the character he’s created, to an extent. 

“I was never too wild or anything, but that’s a subjective question,” said Johnson. “I’m sure my wife would say I’ve been El Cabron all the way.”

So Johnson may not be singing “Thanks to the Cathouse (I’m in the Doghouse)” from experience, but “Waxahatchie” sounds a bit more like something he could relate to. In that song, a man smokes his life away and is oblivious to the fact that his woman is growing frustrated. 

“I disappointed a lot of women,” Johnson admitted. “Patience is definitely a virtue. I’m more patient now than when I met my wife a few years ago.”  

Mindy Johnson, who serves as Pug’s manager, is an important part of this album. She was able to turn Pug’s life around both personally and professionally. Pug credits Mindy for getting him out of a rut of performing only locally and convincing him to become more professional. The two currently travel together as husband and wife, talent and manager.

“Mindy came in and believed in me more than I believed in myself,” said Johnson. “There was a point where I didn’t think I could make it as a solo act. I didn’t think I was interesting enough.”

Mindy’s belief was a powerful thing for Pug, who in turn wrote a song called “Believer” for her. “You made me a believer/you made me more than I could be,” he sings. 

It’s this love story that makes “El Cabron” much more compelling than a collection of clever and funny songs. Johnson shines perhaps even more brightly describing his evolution into a loving husband. “Believer” describes the transformative effect of love and support on someone who’s given up on themselves. It’s a relatable song delivered with conviction.

“Change Myself Today” is the emotional capstone of the album. It’s an acknowledgment of failure both emotional and professional. The slow and sweet music backing Johnson’s earnest vocals make his determination come through. 

“Being a pretty awful [man] for a while and having to live with that can be pretty good motivation,” said Johnson of his inspiration.

While the depths of his debauchery were certainly exaggerated for humor on this album, I suspect the highs of his newfound purpose are entirely real. Hilarity and sincerity make for a more than interesting enough solo act; Pug has nothing to worry about. In fact, I’d say his lines about sucking ears and toes are quite unforgettable.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Pug Johnson and the songs we discussed, starting with “Last Call,” which genuinely made me laugh out loud by inverting a cliche. 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://pugjohnson.com/ for more.

Posted in On Air, Top Picks

Lily Talmers’ It’s Cyclical, Missing You Is Sharp, Probing Poetry

Lily Talmers is a revelation on “It’s Cyclical Missing You.” In both her lyrics and performance, Talmers is intense, intelligent, and confrontational. She’s almost breathless at points. At moments, she’s scathing. Missing someone, some time, something, it’s exhausting. But Talmers shows it’s liberating, it’s revealing, it’s complicated.

We start with Talmers mourning a loss, “floating in a black ocean.” Her vocals are still relatively calm. She’s drawing her emotions from many places. 

“It’s both speaking to romantic relationships and the network of people you have one minute and is gone when you shift lifestyles,” said Talmers.“Having gone through the cycle of teaching in this really intense way and then closing it off, I’ve learned how it feels in retrospect feeling I could’ve done a better job being present with them.”

It’s when Talmers confronts her own role in these past relationships that the album is at its most emotional and compelling. Talmers directly confronts herself on some songs, always to powerful effect. On “I Missed You Today,” she’s waging war with her mental states past and present. “How I changed to earn your love./How come I did that for so long?,” Talmers asks herself. “Read my lips./You don’t miss/anyone at all,” Talmers tells herself, perhaps because it’s not quite true. The regret and the sense of loss are both real.

“You can indulge on either end,” said Talmers. “You can choose to repress the pain of memory by assuming that something was all bad, or you can idealize it and allow yourself to forget the bad parts of it. I think good writing takes responsibility in a way.”

Now when she sings “you don’t miss anyone at all,” Talmers feels she’s “extending an invitation to the audience” to join her in that freedom.

It’s in relatively few songs, “Man of Stone,” where Talmers truly explodes, though only in her mind. “I wanna shake you ’til you’re humble/I wanna sprinkle dust into your eyes/I wanna crack you til you crumble,” she sings. She actually shows him love and makes every effort to open him up, knowing it will fail and knowing she’ll have to leave. 

“How do you love someone who you feel you need to put so much work into educating how to love you back because they don’t even have the tools to even try?,” asked Talmers. “I oscillate between martyrdom and full generosity to that cause and then real anger and frustration.”

“You Can Do Whatever You Want To” is a standout moment on this album and an unexpectedly magnificent protest song. The options she offers at the beginning — a job at a factory, a demanding boss, a low grade hotel room — are less than appealing. There’s some illusion of choice, but it’s always going to involve barely staying afloat. The options she offers to the rich — malleable women, brazen destruction with no one to stop you — may sound more appealing to some while bringing out the moral horror in others. Even those living the American dream are causing someone else’s American nightmare. Between the lyrics and the strained vocals, this is the most cutting track of Talmers’.

“Being an American is a crazy thing full of wild paradoxes,” she said. “A lot of people I love really subscribe to the reasoning of the country and don’t have any grief over the way it behaves. It makes sense for me to communicate in a way that’s a little bit passive aggressive.”

In all the discussions of good and bad love and ways the world is messed up, Talmers produced a gem. “I don’t even know if I can claim to love people properly. But I think we’d be in a much better place if people thought that was a metric of importance.”

An old cliché of her father’s that states nothing is really that bad or that good makes for a sarcastic song in “The Big Idea.” Even after mocking the sentiment in song, Talmers can only manage to partially disavow it.

“Telling yourself anything that’s fundamentally true, you only half believe it,” said Talmers. “In these times especially, some things are really that bad. The song is trying to bring attention in a joking way to how things seem and really are often that bad.”

At the heart of all this missing and stressing, Talmers says there’s a question of faith.

“Do you understand that this moment is meant for you?,” Talmers asked. “Do you accept things as they are? Or are you going to try to force your reality onto it?” 

Based on the lyrics, it’s clear Talmers is still trying to decide. Toward the end of the album, she says that humans at their best are “beautiful and kind.” On the final song, she questions whether there’s truly any meaning to existence. A great, thoughtful album like this concluding with a bit of resolution and a bit of uncertainty seems like a fitting ending, if the album was meant to end at all. Including cyclical in the title of her album was no accident. Talmers intended her album to run in a circle, just like waves of grief that are only slightly more processed.

“Things don’t go away, but they’re going to be different on their next turn,”  said Talmers.

Perhaps this time, Talmers won’t try as hard to change others. Perhaps she’ll manage to change herself. Or, perhaps, she’ll do everything right just to wind up back again at track one. There are stages to this grief thing, after all.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Lily Talmers and the songs we discussed, starting with I Missed You Today, which explores the complicated grief that comes with missing someone who wasn’t particularly good for you. 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.lilytalmers.com for more.

Posted in On Air

Barry Oreck Mines Nature and History For Lessons On We Were Wood

Barry Oreck is grateful to be a part of the New York City folk community. The lower East side was once the center of the American folk movement and though Oreck spent most of his career as a dancer, he’s familiar with the tradition he’s carrying on.

“It’s just amazing to me, the breadth of it, the new music and old music,” said Oreck of the folk scene here. “Thankfully it has some young blood. There is a really building of a multigenerational community there, where I think for a while it was a bunch of us gray hairs talking about how great we did in the 60s.”

In many ways, We Were Wood feels like a work out of that time. For those who grew up on similar folk albums, the sounds and left-of-center themes will be comforting. The histories Oreck presents, whether it be the exploits of Robert Moses, the collateral damage of the Norris Dam, or tailors from Scotland, would’ve been fresher from a chronological standpoint in the 60s as well. 

There’s a reason we learn about history, however. In “Build Me A City,” Oreck sings of Moses: “He never was elected/how was he selected/to say what would be destroyed and what would be protected?” 

Sound familiar, anyone? 

Robert Moses might have taken the expression “move fast and break things” more literally with his demolition of neighborhoods, but Elon Musk seems to be doing very much the same thing with government agencies. 

“He definitely was a precursor of the Trump playbook and he did it excellently,” said Oreck. “He had the newspapers in his pocket, the bankers, they were all enjoying the largesse.”

Much of what Moses created is still being dealt with today. The glut of cars, underutilization of public transit, the paved over neighborhoods and farmland, and the very presence of Long Island’s endless suburbs. 

Some of it inarguably contributed to New York City being the largest urban center in America today. Many of the buildings that were knocked down would not be considered up to our standard of living today. And yet, there was a darkness to Moses’ vision. He had a knack for destroying majority minority neighborhoods.

Long Island mansions were spared even if the highways had to take a sharp turn to cover land owned by small farmers. Even public utilities like Jones Beach had a way of being exclusionary. 

“He designed the overpasses too low for city buses so you needed a private car,” said Oreck, noting the reasons behind that decision were well known even in Moses’ time.

The architects of the New Deal also draw Oreck’s ire for their creation of “The Norris Dam,” which was at the center of the Tennessee Valley Authority. Here too, Oreck talks about those left behind by progress and environmental destruction. 

“Snake Bones” is one song that finds anxiety in modern issues. Climates both political and meteorological are mentioned for their worsening. In this world, it pays to adapt. 

“Snakes are survivors,” said Oreck. “They find their way over and under and around. They have such meaning in terms of how to live on this planet. Finding solutions is a circuitous path; there’s no straight lines.” 

Oreck’s insights into the politics of our time are a bit different than mine. While I’ve spent my adult life adjusted to the idea of polarization and bitterness, Oreck remembers a time when things were different. 

“When the crisis comes we seem less likely to work together these days instead of go further into our tribes,” said Oreck. “In the 60’s I really believed that people could come together and solve it. Now the idea seems very distant to me.”

As always with these albums that address societal ills, a few songs that present a more positive vision go a long way. The title track describes natural decay in a way that reminds us of the value of change, recycling, and well balanced systems. “The Crabbit Wee Tailors of Forfar” focuses on the benefits of recycling and reuse and a culture that promotes those values. Oreck has a brother-in-law who comes from the Scottish region who often creates art from items like toilet paper rolls.

“He seemed like a perfect symbol of that,” said Oreck. “The Scots in general are known as frugal or thrifty or you could call it cheap. I felt like they were a perfect group to highlight what we need to do. We can’t keep throwing everything away. We need to reuse and repair.”  

On an island largely designed by Robert Moses, it might be hard to imagine a more organic way of life. Yet it may ultimately prove more painful not to adapt.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Barry Oreck and the songs we discussed, starting with Build Me A City, which tells the story of Robert Moses, the controversial power broker of mid century New York. 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://barryoreckmusic.com for more.

Posted in On Air, Top Picks

The Delines Find Hope And Pain Through Characters on the Margins on Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom

Sean Baker recently won four Oscars and the Palme D’Or for Anora, a tragicomic love story between a stripper and a wealthy Russian heir. He’s gained a cult following over the years for making films about people on the margins and finally broke into the mainstream with his finest work yet.

Willy Vlautin of The Delines was quite touched when I compared his work to Baker’s. Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom is an award-worthy masterpiece that represents the pinnacle of Vlautin’s career. Lead singer Amy Boone takes on the Mikey Madison role as the star giving that makes it all work. She also pushed Vlautin to write a few happier songs, something that made this project particularly special. All tragedy all the time is not as enjoyable to listen to, nor is it the most accurate representation of even most harder lives.

“I want a love story once in a while, I want a song where nothing bad happens,” Vlautin recalls Boone saying. 

In the form of the title track, he delivers. Like most Vlautin characters, Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom have their scars. Unlike many others, they’re treated to copious amounts of sex and happily ever after. 

“I guess it fell apart from there,” Vlautin admits. There are some fantastic love songs on the rest of the album, but always with a tragic edge. And there are songs with happy endings, but the characters have to go through hell to get there. But all the stories feel plausible and lived in. Aside from the villains, all these rough and tumble characters are written with love and respect. They’re meant to be rooted for.

“Her Ponyboy” stands out as the saddest song on the record for just those reasons. The two lovers are given a long, winding back story and a determination to travel together that seems more grand than foolish in Vlautin’s telling. So when one of them passes from an overdose, especially following that happy love song, it’s a gut check.

“A lot of the imagery comes from Portland,” Vlautin said. “Portland has an immense amount of young people living on the streets. You can’t help but to have that soak in to what you’re working on.”

The length and complexity of his characters stories are exceptional even in the world of roots music.

“I write novels for a living,” said Vlautin, who has several books to his name. “Amy will want to throw me out of a window half the time. Heck, my old band Richmond Fontaine practically did throw me out a window for writing such long story songs.”  

Songs like that may not be particularly commercially viable, but neither is country-tinged soul. If The Delines are going to produce a niche sound, they might as well aim for high art in their lyrics. Not many lyricists are more capable.

Vlautin’s devotion to his subject matter comes from personal experience. Many of his friends and the people he worked with in his youth either once were homeless, became homeless, or both. 

“I grew up in Reno,” Vlautin said. “At the time it was a town with a big segment of drifters, a lot of folks living out of motels. It was never lost on me how close it was from where I was living to maybe ending up in a motel. I’ve always written out of both romanticism and fear. I could’ve ended up like any of these characters. I possibly still could.” 

Part of what makes Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom such an enjoyable record is the hard won victories many of its women achieve. In “Left Hook Like Frazier,” a woman who’s survived a lot gives advice to younger women on the types of men to avoid. “JP and Me” shows a relationship that slowly soured, but the woman manages to get away and he begins showing signs of instability.“Nancy and the Pensacola Pimp” puts Nancy through a lot, but she certainly has her revenge. Same with the main character in “Sitting on the Curb.” “Maureen’s Gone Missing,” a song in which Maureen would certainly be in mortal danger, comes across as comparatively lighthearted and fun.

“I did that for Amy,” said Vlautin. “We both grew up with grifter movies. There’s a lot of grifters in this record. She said ‘Can’t a woman just get away with the money? Like really get away. And don’t kill her.’”

Vlautin did a great job not killing the women of Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom, but he was right not to listen to Boone too much about those happy endings. One character gets two songs and a story that’s less exciting than unjust. Somehow, it hits the hardest.

The tone of “Don’t Miss Your Bus Lorraine” doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the album. Oddly, this is a good thing. It’s the one song where the empathy and straight up storytelling Vlautin has shown himself to be capable of vanishes. In its place is the voice of society treating a released felon harshly. It’s telling her she can’t or shouldn’t make it. It’s emphasizing the pressure of every little action for a person on parole. In speaking to Lorraine that way, Vlautin gives his listeners the chance to be spoken to that way. It’s a completely brilliant detour that generates sympathy from a lack of showing it. And somehow the track also shows the life of a marijuana convict coming out to discover the world has had a complete change in attitude toward the drug but not her.

A few tracks later, when it comes time to close the album, The Delines revisit Lorraine’s story. “Don’t go into that house Lorraine” are the only lyrics. The music is slow and forbodding. Boone’s voice is exhausted and hopeless. After a few stories where the woman comes out unscathed, Vlautin throws us back into the harsh realities of life on the margins. 

“You’re not sure if she’s going to go in or not,” said Vlautin. “Amy’s voice kind of hints at what’s going to happen. She’s like an actress in a way. But it leaves that hope.” 

At that point, Vlautin started speaking to his character: “Lorraine I know it’s hard, just don’t miss your bus. Maybe you’ll get a raise, maybe you’ll get a better job, maybe you won’t end up living by a freeway your entire life.”

Despite having written the album, Vlautin insists he’s not sure of the outcome.

“You don’t know if the women in any of these situations make it through,” said Vlautin. “Half the characters will give in and will go into that house, you’re just not sure which ones.”

Ultimately, for Vlautin and his characters, it’s not clear whether it’s life imitating art or vice versa. 

“If she makes it, I’ll make it,” Vlautin said of Lorraine. “And if she doesn’t make it, then that means I’m not doing so good in my personal life.”

Vlautin thinks it’s quite possible Lorraine will walk into that house but immediately realize that it’s not the right place for her. Perhaps Boone isn’t the only one in the band hoping for the Hollywood ending. Together, they’re worthy of the Oscar.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Willy Vlautin and the songs we discussed, starting with Her Ponyboy, which Vlautin picked as his favorite on the album. 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.thedelines.com for more.

Posted in On Air

Country/Comedy Hybrid Band The Doohickeys Are A Surprisingly Thoughtful Riot

They made their way to Los Angeles to study comedy. They accidentally formed a country band. Haley Spence Brown and Jack Hackett of The Doohickeys have proven to be quite gifted in both realms.

The Doohickeys perform real country music while taking shots at tropes of the genre and pains of rural living. But they do it in a way that’s often loving and always healthy. Unbelievably, a song discussing ‘truck size’ turns into an opportunity to promote male body positivity and healthy sexual goals. It’s bold, unique, and funny. And it allows men to be satisfied with their appearance “as long as my lady gets to where she is going.”

“When we wrote it, we weren’t even really a band. We wrote it for sketch comedy,” said Hackett. “People have this machismo manly persona in country music. Very rarely do we talk about our insecurities.”

Shockingly, they originally planned for “I Wish My Truck Was Bigger” to be a slower song. It could’ve been ugly.

“You can’t do a real sad song about that,” Hackett added. “You have to laugh at it. I’m shocked at the number of deep dives there have been on this song. I thought people would just glaze over it but I’m happy about it.” 

There’s an important line in the song “This Town Sucks” that sums up their gentle touch: “I know I say I hate it here/but it made me who I am/so I can say it’s crap/but don’t think that means you can.” 

A few targets — an aggressive man at the bar, televangelists, and faux populist politicians — take a direct hit. But for the most part, The Doohickeys are laughing at themselves and celebrating things like Jack’s beat up truck and Haley’s hero of a father.

Hackett is from the Atlanta area while Brown comes from the rural Liberty, Missouri. 

“I think every mainstream country artist has a song about their small town and this is ours,” Brown said. 

While they aren’t aiming for mainstream country success, there’s plenty of commentary and discussion with the genre. One of the characters they take a less than kind view on in the title track is a country star from Seattle who fakes a Southern drawl. 

“I would argue that the vast majority of people from where I’m from are tired of musicians who pretend to be country,” said Brown. “They’re tired of politicians who pretend to be populists.”

Brown’s solution to the problem is hilarious and, considering her background in comedy, shockingly brilliant. 

“Have Congress work as a jury pool where we just randomly pull people to serve for two years,” Brown explained. “Cause it can’t be crazier than it is now.”

The pair were shocked how much love their song has gotten on both sides of the aisle, even as it took aim at mostly conservative leaning figures. 

“If you’re a televangelist, maybe just let us know what your net worth is, Hackett said. “Or maybe be taxed.”

What’s shocking is how good and meaningful one of their less comedic songs is. It tells the true story of Brown’s father, a lawyer who defends farmers against any governmental body looking to exercise eminent domain.

“My dad’s awesome,” Brown said. “I wanted to sit down and write a song that was authentically me but inspired by Dolly Parton.”

The song sounds quite a bit like Parton wrote and performed it. And compared to the subjects of “All Hat, No Cattle,” it’s a reminder of what a real populist hero looks like. It’s a man who left a job foreclosing on farms to defend the little guy who just wants to remain in his home.

“He saw what they were doing,” Brown explained. “He really wanted to get an inside view on their operations.”

Brown’s love for Parton runs deep. She received viral acclaim for an online audition to play Parton in a musical production. It just so happened she recorded it as the band fled Los Angeles during the recent wildfires. Brown doesn’t look much like Parton, but she absolutely has the voice and soul to perform her music. 

“It was a really nice positive moment in a really scary week,” she said.

There are some unhinged moments on the album that deliver on the promise of comedy. “Please Tell Me You’re Sleepin’” truly goes in an unexpected and hilarious direction. “Too Ugly To Hitchhike” is a good concept but perhaps a few decades too late. 

But most of the laughs come on songs like “I Don’t Give A Damn About Football.” A little comic exaggeration on a common but under discussed problem among country music fans — in this case a man more focused on football than his wife — and a couple of lines of observational humor, and you have a Doohickeys song. It’s solid blue collar humor that doesn’t resort to cruelty. Somehow, this occasionally raunchy album is one of the more unique and wholesome things you’ll hear in 2025. It’s just a beautiful thing that this project exists.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Haley and Jack and the songs we discussed, starting with This Town Sucks, which both roasts and stands up for small town living. 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.thedoohickeysband.com for more.

Posted in On Air

Mallory Chipman Sends Out A Mournful, Loving Prayer On “Songs To A Wild God”

Mallory Chipman would love for you to come see the gorgeous wild plains of her homeland of Alberta. 

“Part of me has always thought that if folks could see it with their own eyes, they would feel the same way I do about this place being sacred and worth protecting,” said Chipman. “We as humans are part of this nature. We as humans are nature protecting itself when we take action.” 

On Songs To A Wild God, Chipman expands on her activism and spiritual connection to nature to create one of the more moving albums focused on environmentalism. The plea she makes is beautiful, multifaceted, and dire. It also regularly mentions waking up to the fact that there’s a problem. Recent summers have done that for Chipman, as wildfire smoke from British Colombia or even a national park in Alberta have made her skies hazy. One of her friends even became a climate refugee after losing her home and instruments to a wildfire.

“Most folks have work life balance and daily patterns they need to uphold just to get by. It can be really easy to let some of these collective responsibilities fall to the side, which I have a lot of empathy for,” said Chipman. “Until we have seen the destruction, we often don’t realize we’re capable of it. Sometimes we’re reminded that things are more dire than we think.”

“Saltwater Tears” underlines that urgency and hints at the album’s title with an encounter with a street preacher. He is predicting the end of the world and Chipman agrees, though not for the religious reasons he’d expect. “We’ve been praying to the wrong God the whole damn time,” she sings.

“Old Man River” hints at this conversion. In describing a decaying ecosystem, Chipman sings “I ask myself why didn’t I care until now,” hinting strongly that it’s too late in this case. 

Chipman benefits from a clear voice with a range that reaches to the skies. Though she’s tended toward indie rock thus far in her career, she’s a natural fit for folk music like this. The high notes she hits on tracks like “Sing Me Home” are impressive and sound a bit like birdsong. That, of course, feels right at home on an album like this.

“Mystic Time” is the one song on the album not rooted in nature and tells an extraordinary story of Chipman first discovering her heritage. Her father, who was adopted, did not discover where he came from until later in his life. Chipman sings of familiarizing herself with a culture and the hole in her history that was suddenly filled. On an album that serves as a warning call, a happy story is welcome. 

“Same Hands” is a standout both for its dreamy sound and the loss of innocence story it tells. It follows a young Chipman exploring her natural surroundings, picking lilies and bringing frogs home from the creek.

“I’ve always found a lot of kinship with these creatures. It was this innocent perspective of looking for friendship. Unfortunately, the next day they were belly up in their aquarium,” said Chipman. “I realized I can do as much damage as I can do good. As adults, that’s still true.” 

Chipman acknowledges that in an age of short attention spans, helping the environment can be a difficult concept to grasp. She points to her work removing invasive species near her home as an example of one of the speedier ways to make progress.

“You’re able to very quickly see when you come back the next summer how much more room there is for native plants. Even that, when I say it’s a shorter term thing, that’s a year away,” said Chipman.“We’re so used to instant gratification. The results are going to look different than that. Hopefully that’s not too discouraging.”

The album ends with an appreciative song about time spend in the wild and that invitation to Alberta. There are dire warnings on this album, but Chipman preferred to end it on notes of joyful reverence. It’s a leap of faith that people could be inspired to truly change, but for Chipman, the natural world and faith are quite intertwined

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Mallory Chipman and the songs we discussed, starting with Saltwater Tears, which deals with themes as heavy as the end times and Earth crying. 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.mallorychipmanmusic.com for more.

Posted in On Air

Hannah Juanita Sings About Her Passion For Music Like A Tennessee Songbird

“Whether we listen or not, the songbird sings,” goes the refrain on the title track of Hannah Juanita’s Tennessee Songbird. They’re words the singer understands: her sophomore album is a true love letter to music and performance and a recognition that they form the core of her identity. Her earnest words stand out even among the thousands of artists I’ve listened to for the show. When she chose to cover “Mother Country Music,” it was because of a sincere gratitude to the genre.

“It was very consoling and really changed my life and gave me a lot direction and peace that I hadn’t had before,” Juanita said.

Her song original song, “Peace of Mind,” celebrates that living a hard life on the road has given her a sense of wholeness that she wouldn’t trade for all the creature comforts of a stable home life. 

“I don’t know what else I would do anyway,” Juanita said. “It comes with the struggles but so does everything. A lot of this record is me coming to terms with that this is what I’m doing and accepting the challenges.”

Her decision to stick to a traditional country sound and forgo attempts at making waves in Nashville is just part of that inner peace. 

“I don’t feel like I’m trying to make it big,” Juanita said, emphasizing her commitment to the music. “I want to have a long career and I want to be financially viable and keep the show going.”

The financial and logistical struggles didn’t bear much mentioning to Juanita, but she does find social media uncomfortable and balance tough to find.

“You are supposed to be putting yourself out there constantly, daily,” she said. It’s not like it used to be where people did radio interviews and shows. It’s constant. “The type of person that’s an artist, you need to go inward and you need to close off to the world to recharge and get inspired and make your art and hone your craft.”

There might not be a solution there, but she found a truly beautiful one to avoiding the alcoholism and unbalanced lifestyle of the road.

“I bring my dog when I can,” Juanita said. “That forces us to plan ahead and get to the park or get to the lake and run around or go swimming. That’s build in outside time. It keeps me grounded.” 

Not every song talks about passion for music, but every song shows it. “Blue Moon” and “Loose Caboose” feel like tributes to classic country, though very different varieties. But it’s the much more original “Granny’s Cutlass Supreme” that feels like a classic. 

The song tells the story of an older woman with a nice car and a few bad habits. In an inexplicable stroke of genius, Juanita chose to duet with Riley Downing and his distinct, nearly impossibly low voice. Her and the Deslondes performer make a unique pair, but there’s no way this song was meant to be conventional. In a genre of tight jeans and dirt roads and trucks, a grandma in a bikini with a classic car is a fresh spin that gently pokes fun at cliches while somehow receiving the benefit of featuring those cultural touchstones.

“Granny is a wild woman,” Juanita said. “She has country livin’ wisdom that she wants to share with the world. People often get overlooked in their older age, but I think it’s cool that granny is still kicking it.”

Personally, I think this particular woman would be hard to overlook. Still, the standout song on the album is “Fortune.” Juanita portrays the concept of fortune as an ex who rightfully left her. 

It’s about “looking back over your life and decisions and choices and feeling like at one point you had fortune on your side and maybe it doesn’t feel that way anymore,” Juanita explained. 

The execution is gorgeous as are the female harmonies. Out of all the tracks on this album, it sounds the most like it’s performed by songbirds. Anyone who can write and sing like this, much like Granny, should not be overlooked.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Hannah Juanita and the songs we discussed, starting with Fortune, which is a like a breakup song, but with a concept. 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://hannahjuanita.com for more. Photo Credit Emily Danielle Jones.