Country Pocket

Leslie Jordan never knew her grandfather. Her mother barely knew her father, for that matter. He left her and his wife and wandered the West, fancying himself as a beatnik writer. When he died, Leslie’s mother was given a chance to claim some of his possessions. She chose his writings.

“The Agonist” is inspired by those writings. Jordan was allowed to read them about a decade ago and saw some of herself in the fellow artist from whom she descended. 

“I never knew him. I didn’t even know much about him when I was a kid,” said Jordan. “We got to know this man through his writing.”

In one of those writings, Robert S. Gott calls himself “The Agonist,” which is the term for a chemical agent that initiates a reaction in other substances. The album begins with an introduction of Gott and his lonely ways.

“There’s this person who on his own was a bit ineffective,” Jordan said. “But I’m hoping this album maybe brings some effectiveness to the story of his life.”

Gott had an extraordinary life. He was a sentry in the Texas desert, a poet roaming the West coast, and a lover to his brother’s wife. Gott was a man who struggled in interpersonal relationships and Jordan suspects it has to do with the one topic absent from his writings.

“I think there’s a lot to his story that was kept private and there was trauma from being a young boy drafted into the military,” said Jordan. “He went to Japan during World War II. He doesn’t write about his experience there, but I would assume that marks a man.”

Jordan has both an incredible voice and does an incredible job capturing Gott’s voice. She thoroughly transforms some of his writings into more complete stories without losing elements of the original. Gott once wrote from the perspective of a mother who was struck by her teen son and then struck him back. The specificity of the account leads Jordan to believe it was an event in Gott’s life, but she has no confirmation. Still, she tells the story well in a tense song, repeating that in every sort of relationship, people must “find the limit.” 

“I’m not saying we’ve all had these moments with our kids, but I do think there are moments when feelings and emotions are heightened and we react in ways we don’t anticipate,” Jordan said of the characters. 

Gott was often vilified by her mother’s family. They kept in touch through occasional phone calls, but things were always quite strained. Jordan is more forgiving of the solitary man after understanding a bit of what he went through.  

“He was an addict. Even when he was married to my grandmother, he spent a lot of time in jail,” said Jordan. “Back in those days, I don’t know if rehab was a thing. He just needed more help than what he was given.”

“What I choose doesn’t always make sense,” Jordan sings at one point, describing Gott as a man repeatedly drawn back to a job in the remote Texas desert.

“He did a lot of it alone because I think he saw how much he hurt the people he loved in some of the darker moments of his life,” Jordan explained.

“Sometimes, Sylvia” is certainly evidence of that. Gott’s writings revealed he had an affair with his brother’s wife but eventually cut it off after reflecting on what they were doing. The song displays those complex feelings well.

Perhaps the most beautiful lines by Gott comes from “Requiem for Bobby.” 

“Oh, all things, all things, you’ve finally learned to love,” Gott wrote in what was effectively a eulogy for him self. Jordan made the line the center of her closing track and teamed with the Milk Carton Kids for the sorts of harmonies she purposely resisted including on songs about more lonesome eras of Gott’s life.

Jordan suspects Gott knew his life hadn’t amounted to much and asked, “what if acceptance is the one thing I can show for myself?”  

“He was always trying to make right,” she added. “I hope that toward the end of my life, I can come to terms with the messy parts of my story.”

All may not be healed between Gott and his estranged family, but there’s now connection and understanding on a scale unimaginable without that box of writings. 

“Whether he did it intentionally or not, it really has become one of the greatest gifts for our family,” Jordan said. “I do know one of his deepest longings was to be a published writer, and he is now. I think and I hope that he would feel honored by that.”

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Leslie Jordan and the songs we discussed, starting with The Fight, which you can compare to Gott’s original writing when Jordan shares it in the interview. 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.lesliejordanmusic.com/ for more.

Sean McConnell is deconstructing and rebuilding on “Skin,” his latest thoughtful, spiritually influenced work. He is unlearning to learn, maturing by finding a child within, and becoming a better man by being better to himself. He explained that in addition to some habit changes like no longer drinking, the largest changes he’s made involve self talk. “The greatest lie the devil tells/is that he is someone else/and we die swinging at a ghost/instead of looking in ourselves,” McConnell sings on perhaps his best lines on the album.

“I had to look inside of myself,” said McConnell.  “I’m the narrator of a lot of these paradigms I need to break. The whole game, whatever this is, is about darkness and light and balance. I’m just trying to figure that out for myself. The more you go inward, the more it speaks to everything else as well.”

Heaven is covered in skin, McConnell theorizes. Much like the devil, peace and love can be found within. It’s that beautiful idea that forms the basis of the rest of an album of searching and reconstruction. 

The journey begins on “Demolition Day.” It’s a song about exorcizing demons and rising from the grave and breaking curses. Despite those phrases, the song is uplifting and a celebration of newfound freedom. 

“The West Is Never Won” starts to explain what exactly comes after. “Make God a good and a bad guy/just so they always wonder,” he sings, rebuking the way certain strains of religion asks you to fear the embodiment of love itself. Classical education corrupts natural instincts, McConnell feels, urging the listener to keep their heart wild.

“I started writing that song to my daughter, and I think of her every time I sing it, but almost equally I came to find out I was singing to my inner child,” said McConnell. “Our naked soul born into this world is the untamed west and people and systems and ideas and self talk will try to tame you and suppress you. But we can tap into that. Your soul tells you right and wrong. It’s beautiful and untarnished.”

Not all souls tend toward the good, but the best word of McConnell’s idea is conscience. When kids are young enough, they’re unbothered by such things as peer pressure. As adults grow up, they may be able to follow their moral compass a bit more. The in between, the time when we’re both being molded to and trying to fit into some role in society, that can be a bit more murky.

“Southside of Forever” and “Older Now” are the most interesting mid-album songs. The former addresses a “contradiction” in McConnells material: many people living miserable and self-destructive lives will never change. That even McConnell can’t imagine a happy ending for these people — if not in this life but the next — speaks to a groundedness that many spiritual thinkers and bleeding hearts lack. The latter track is a pleasure because it sees McConnell imagining a full life of maturing and improving. It’s an understanding that love in your 20s is both more intense and less profound than anything you’ll feel in your 40s. 

The album ends on a delirious high note. “New Sons And Daughters” imagines a world without something similar to the concept of original sin. When McConnell sings the word “free,” he’s putting tremendous emotion behind it. There’s a sense of peace and yearning that’s hard to come by in almost any kind of media. McConnell described the recording session as being magical for him. He knew he nailed it. 

“There’s so much energy behind that word that has a lot to do with wanting it so badly and sometimes experiencing it but not enough,” said McConnell. It’s really hoping that’s true or trusting that’s true with the flickers of what you get to experience. [The] That song is sifting through this haze of all of the baggage — religion, things people said, ways I was raised — and asks at the bottom of that, is it love and benevolence and freedom? And I think it is.”

Modern society conditions us to be self-interested and overprotective. Generations before us have passed on some beautiful spiritual traditions, but they’ve also left us with cycles of war, deep inequalities, and 

McConnell describes himself as a spiritual dabbler, always looking for answers. 

“For better or for worse, it’s been an obsession of mine since I was a kid,” said McConnell. “It’s always in my music and it’s normally what I’m reading. It’s part of who I am. That search is insatiable and constant.” 

His explanation for what’s out there is unique and gorgeous. It’s a theme shared by many religions, one that perhaps touches on afterlife. A place we come from and a place we will one day find peace in again.

“When I go inward, I have some sort of trust or hope that as bad as the wave can be, we all return to the ocean,” said McConnell. “It doesn’t make the wave any less scary and fucked up and weird and unknowable, I just have faith that whatever that ocean is, that we get back there.”

For those who think intensely about the world, the notion that humanity could break its destructive patterns and live peacefully is just about the best dream we could ever live. For five minutes and 24 seconds, McConnell allows us to bask in the beauty of that notion with him. I’ve never been so glad a songwriter has freed a few tears from my eyes.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Sean McConnell and the songs we discussed, starting with Skin, which serves as a title track and thesis statement for 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.seanmcconnell.com for more.

Few songwriters are truly at expressing strong emotions with powerful and specific words. Few singers in roots music can sell those lines with the flare of a rockstar and the sincerity of an actor. Jett Holden seems born to do both.

The fact that we even have The Phoenix is a bit of a miracle. Holden had stepped away from music before deciding to give it one last serious try.

“I didn’t want to, but at the same time I knew I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t take the chance at least,” said Holden. “I’m grateful. I’ve gained a lot of community over the last four years since Black Opry was incepted.”

Holden’s debut album is a display of powerful, emotional songwriting on both the political and the personal. It features the unapologetic perspective of a queer Black man from the American South. It deals with both trauma and inspiration. He rhymes corpses and forceps. It even has lines like “if you think karma is a bitch then the truth is you may be a bitch yourself.”

When we spoke, Holden was pleased that I zeroed in on so many of his lyrics, describing them as his favorite part of the songwriting experience. He spoke as though sharing intense feelings and trauma was an easy thing for him.

“Writing’s the way I got through so much of my life,” said Holden. “Sharing it helps me feel like I’m helping someone else.”

The album can be divided between the fun and the intensely personal. “Karma,” featuring one of Nashville’s most visible allies in Cassadee Pope, is catty pop perfection. “Necromancer” and “Scarecrow,” which has fun with Wizard of Oz characters at an opportune time, get a serious point across but are more clever than impactful.

Then there are the tracks that hit like a truck.

Holden chooses to lead the album with “Taxidermy,” one of the most defiant political anthems in recent history. He calls out racism, police brutality, homophobia, and the empty posts of so-called allies before a pivoting to a third act sung directly to the sorts of people who are impacted by the hurricane that is American culture in the Trump era. 

“There was a lot of talk,” Holden said of our social media feeds in 2020. “There were a lot of faces on Facebook walls, but there wasn’t a lot of action behind those words.” 

He went on to explain that many people who posted a black square for a profile picture went on to vote for someone determined to stamp out Black history. 

“It felt like it could’ve been me at any moment,” Holden said of “Taxidermy.” “I was living in Northeast Tennessee at the time, which isn’t always the best to queer people or people of color. There was like one gay bar I could go to and I would hear the n-word out the window just trying to walk to the grocery store.”

The words of inspiration at the end of the song and the verse about a queer teen committing suicide are painful reminders that it’s not only the bigots who need to be convinced that other groups deserve to exist. 

“It’s kind of heavy handed, but it felt appropriate,” said Holden. “It felt like a cool opportunity to say something, but also leave people with a hopeful message at the end.”                                                                        

There are songs that go to even darker places. And yet, they’re all strangely hopeful.

“Perfect Storm” is Holden’s description of being in an abusive relationship and needing to get out before it ended in violence. He describes being struck with fists and discovering a gun. Incredibly, he admits contemplating an act of violence himself. “I am not a lamb to the slaughter/I have heard the banshees cry his name,” he sings.

“I had been in a controlling relationship and I feared for myself a lot,” Holden said. “It was the first time I saw what it was that kept people in abusive relationships and I was the person who couldn’t escape it. That song was me trying to pull myself out of that mindset.”  

As painful as the experiences in “Perfect Storm” are, it could be vital for someone else in the situation to hear how Holden managed to escape.

The song became a rock-laced piano ballad that saw Holden’s most powerful vocal performance. When it comes to emotional performances, Holden is as sincere as they come. 

“A lot of these songs are lived experiences,” said Holden. “It’s not difficult to pull from that in that sense. It’s more so about getting comfortable on stage. That was the difficult part.”

“When I’m Gone,” featuring Emily Scott Robinson in another stellar backing vocal performance, also came into existence for a tragic reason: Holden lost a friend to suicide and decided to write the note that she hadn’t. Holden experienced depression himself, so this had to be a difficult song to write. The result is almost unimaginably comforting for the reader of the note. “I know you believe in Heaven/but I believe in souls/they all have to go somewhere/and mine’s tethered to yours,” wrote Holden. Graces like a happy hereafter and a continuing love story are extended to the dead and their partner. It’s no happy ending, but anything that can dull the pain at that point is welcome.

The last truly spectacular song on the album is the title track of sorts. “West Virginia Sky” literally tells the story of the sun and a dying phoenix, but it’s truly about a husband losing his wife. The natural imagery is stunning and Holden’s soaring vocals match the moment. My only criticism is that it’s almost too gorgeous to register as the only truly bleak song on the record.

“I used to help my mom take care of my grandma,” said Holden. “She has Alzheimer’s and I watched that process. People deal with that all the time being caregivers for their family.”

It’s the perspective of the husband that makes the song so difficult to stomach. He’s watching his wife fade. He’s watching his relationships with his children fade.

“Soon he’ll reach supernova and his time will come, but what will be left of everything after he’s gone,” Holden asked. “A lot of times people say life is short, but life feels so long sometimes. Especially when they’re dealing with trauma or loss.” 

If one phoenix is the dying wife, and another is the title of the album, Holden admits to feeling like a third. His return to music was more than a career choice. 

“It was not just about giving up on dreams,” said Holden. “It was about not giving up on yourself. Your life is precious. The best thing you could do is fight for yourself and fight for other people following in your shoes.”

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with Jett Holden and the songs we discussed, starting with “Taxidermy,” which is both a scathing protest song and a love letter to the marginalized. 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.missingpiecegroup.com/jett-holden for more.

Photo credit Kai Lendzion.

Progressive bluegrass is a genre all its own. The arrangements and movements are dazzling, complex, and imaginative. The lyrics, on many songs, feel like an afterthought. 

John Depew has the movements and the picking talent required to swim in the deep waters of the genre. He also has existential questions and hard won convictions about a few simple things that are important in life. His racing mind and the busy instrumentation swirl together on Bell of Hope. The result is strange and beautiful. It’s an album that features dozens on questions and maybe a handful of answers that somehow manages to satisfy. Phones ring. Eons pass. The natural world reveals its secrets. 

Put simply, Depew’s first full album is a magnificent high point in a genre that’s been too long stagnant and in awe of Chris Thile and jam bands. Depew’s voice sounds a lot like Thile’s, and the mandolin work isn’t quite at that level, but he thinks so much more deeply. 

“I’m maybe pathologically philosophical,” Depew explained when we spoke.

His first track, “Whale,” is about diving deep into his art as a way of life and a means of him supporting himself. He described the biblical imagery as familiar in his midwestern surroundings and said that while he tried to get on the phone with God in the song, his spiritual beliefs are more complex than the lyrics would suggest.

“When I use the word God, I’m talking about something quite a bit vaguer. I’m talking about whatever the creative force in the universe that makes everything happen,” said Depew. “There’s a certain idea in Christianity of God being this bearded dude. This person in the sky looking down on us with human-like thoughts going through his head. That’s not really what I mean, but I don’t really know what I mean.”

Regardless of who answered, Depew decided to climb inside the metaphorical whale. 

“It’s kinda freaking terrifying to leave a stable life and try to be a musician instead,” said Depew. “It’s a stupid thing to do. There’s a huge unknown, but I feel like I have to do this thing. There’s a place for me in this world, but I’m going to have to throw myself into it.”

Depew’s theory of life slowly becomes more apparent throughout the album. Nature is a source of inspiration and grounding, while natural history is proof of a greater plan.

“Anywhere you are in nature you can have a spiritual experience just by looking around,” said Depew. “I think it’s really important to recognize that although in a lot of cases it doesn’t always feel like it, humans 1000% are part of nature.” 

Birds in particular symbolize something important. He borrowed a concept from a Mary Oliver poem when he sang “They claim ownership of nothing/that’s the reason they can fly” on “Lesson.” 

“It’s very difficult for me to relinquish the concept of ownership as a white midwestern man from an agricultural society,” said Depew. “I really liked that idea when I read that in her poetry. The idea that freedom comes from letting go of the baggage that is our dominion over the world and letting ourselves exist.”

The swarming questions fade in the title track as some kind of answer emerges. Over the course of 12 minutes, Depew takes us through the history of the universe from the Big Bang to the emergence of human life. In the face of such a massive backstory, Depew feels as though ringing the “Bell of Hope” is all humankind can do. That can take several forms.

“The only thing I think I can really do is treat my wife and my kids with reverence and make meaningful connections with other people,” Depew said. “I think sitting in my bedroom thinking on these questions isn’t really going to do anything.” 

And yet in my case, it was all that questioning that sparked the connection. Depew saw our 40 minute conversation on topics ranging from the fabric of the universe to the strange rationals for genocide as another ring of that bell. 

“I could’ve written a 12 minute song about chasing tail in the bar and we wouldn’t have had this conversation,” said Depew. “In some ways ringing the bell of hope is just getting up every morning and trying to be a nice person.”

The last track, a celebration of good roots music, is a fitting way to close an album like this. “Joyful Sound” remarks on the way music can help us through hard times. Times are hard, but art like this is a powerful medicine. And the way Depew arrives at fairly traditional values through complex questioning of the world around him is decidedly refreshing. Even for radically different minds, time with loved ones is a common salve.

Above is the full episode as aired on WUSB’s Country Pocket, including both my interview with John Depew and the songs we discussed, starting with Whale, which is one of many songs on which John respectfully uses Christian imagery despite having more complicated beliefs. 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://johndepewmusic.wordpress.com for more.