The String

If nothing else was left behind about America in the 20th century but the lyrics to all the country songs written by the famous and the obscure, you'd have a pretty good catalog of what happened and how we worked and how we fought, how we loved each other and judged each other and murdered each other. How we socialized and danced and drank and raised families. That's no small feat for a genre of music. It's a more vivid and truthful diary of American life than the last 100 years of the New York times. And it's this granular sense for the music in all its human revelation that has sparked a rush of interest in the story of country music in the 20th century as told by Tyler Mahan Coe. Another reason it's gotten attention is that it's not a big doorstop of a book. It's a podcast. It's called Cocaine & Rhinestones. Craig sits down to learn the background and vision of this sudden hit.

Two years ago, Lydia and Laura Rogers, the Alabama siblings who harmonize together so enchantingly as The Secret Sisters, looked like they had it all figured out. They’d built a sterling reputation with critics and a strong fan base. T-Bone Burnett was their record producer and they were in demand. But behind the scenes, the artists were suffering, at times despondent and afraid all they’d built and all they wanted to do was being torn away from them. They’d been cast adrift by their label. Faced with insurmountable legal bills, they took the extreme step of declaring personal bankruptcy. But they kept that a secret, if you will, from their fans. 

But it got better. They leaned on family, faith and an ace in the hole, the friendship and mentorship of folk star Brandi Carlile. They called on their fans for what would be a make-or-break crowd-funding campaign. And they came out with a triumph, an album far more mature, revelatory and contemporary than anything they’d made before. It was the Grammy nominated You Don’t Own Me Anymore. Lydia and Laura spoke with The String before a show at the City Winery in Nashville.

Two years ago, Lydia and Laura Rogers, the Alabama siblings who harmonize together so enchantingly as The Secret Sisters, looked like they had it all figured out. They'd built a sterling reputation with critics and a strong fan base. T-Bone Burnett was their record producer and they were in demand. But behind the scenes, the artists were suffering, at times despondent and afraid all they'd built and all they wanted to do was being torn away from them. They'd been cast adrift by their label. Faced with insurmountable legal bills, they took the extreme step of declaring personal bankruptcy. But they kept that a secret, if you will, from their fans.

But it got better. They leaned on family, faith and an ace in the hole, the friendship and mentorship of folk star Brandi Carlile. They called on their fans for what would be a make-or-break crowd-funding campaign. And they came out with a triumph, an album far more mature, revelatory and contemporary than anything they'd made before. It was the Grammy nominated You Don't Own Me Anymore. Lydia and Laura spoke with The String before a show at the City Winery in Nashville.

With the aggressive acoustic bass, second-line intricate drumming and soaring brotherly harmony, the Wood Brothers have become a mainstay of roots and Americana music. What began well over a decade ago as a casual and personal initiative to spend more time together as brothers took on a life of its own and has grown steadily from listening rooms to a recent debut at the Ryman Auditorium.

It was an experiment with potent inputs. Oliver had spent years on the blues circuit, first with band leader Tinsley Ellis and then as an architect of the horn and percussion heavy band King Johnson. Chris became one of the most famous and acclaimed bass players in the world with the remarkable progressive jazz trio Medeski, Martin and Wood. Drummer Jano Rix came aboard full time about five years ago.  The Wood Brothers are aptly named - sturdy, fine grained, organic and deeply rooted. Oliver and Chris join Craig for a conversation about their history and the new album One Drop of Truth. 

With the aggressive acoustic bass, second-line intricate drumming and soaring brotherly harmony, the Wood Brothers have become a mainstay of roots and Americana music. What began well over a decade ago as a casual and personal initiative to spend more time together as brothers took on a life of its own and has grown steadily from listening rooms to a recent debut at the Ryman Auditorium.

It was an experiment with potent inputs. Oliver had spent years on the blues circuit, first with band leader Tinsley Ellis and then as an architect of the horn and percussion heavy band King Johnson. Chris became one of the most famous and acclaimed bass players in the world with the remarkable progressive jazz trio Medeski, Martin and Wood. Drummer Jano Rix came aboard full time about five years ago. The Wood Brothers are aptly named - sturdy, fine grained, organic and deeply rooted. Oliver and Chris join Craig for a conversation about their history and the new album One Drop of Truth.

David Ball is one of our best traditional country singers, a regular on the Grand Ole Opry and that rare classic indie who had big radio hits in two different decades. But before he twanged us up with Thinkin' Problem, in his well-spent youth, he was bass player and singer in Uncle Walt's Band, one of the most exceptional and under-appreciated ensembles in roots music history. The acoustic trio was made up of Champ Hood on fiddle and Walter Hyatt on guitar. All three contributed to the complex sound and stellar songwriting, but it was Walter Hyatt's peculiar energy and intellect that stamped the group with his name and personality. Uncle Walt's Band's biggest fans were some of the biggest names in their base in Austin TX, including Lyle Lovett and Marcia Ball. They were truly something, but eventually they went their separate ways. Walter Hyatt died in a plane crash in 1996. Hood died of cancer in 2001. Here, Ball talks about the band and the new Anthology of its best work out now on Omnivore Recordings.

David Ball is one of our best traditional country singers, a regular on the Grand Ole Opry and that rare classic indie who had big radio hits in two different decades. But before he twanged us up with Thinkin' Problem, in his well-spent youth, he was bass player and singer in Uncle Walt's Band, one of the most exceptional and under-appreciated ensembles in roots music history. The acoustic trio was made up of Champ Hood on fiddle and Walter Hyatt on guitar. All three contributed to the complex sound and stellar songwriting, but it was Walter Hyatt's peculiar energy and intellect that stamped the group with his name and personality. Uncle Walt's Band's biggest fans were some of the biggest names in their base in Austin TX, including Lyle Lovett and Marcia Ball. They were truly something, but eventually they went their separate ways. Walter Hyatt died in a plane crash in 1996. Hood died of cancer in 2001. Here, Ball talks about the band and the new Anthology of its best work out now on Omnivore Recordings.

Lillie Mae has lived a classic Nashville journey. She came of age on Lower Broadway, playing six nights a week with her family band as a teenager. She and her siblings were mentored and produced by the great Cowboy Jack Clement. Her band was signed to and dropped from a major country label. Then she became a side musician for Jack White and eventually, he asked her to join the roster of Third Man Records, where she made the acclaimed debut album Forever And Then Some. The 26 year old is already exceptionally experienced and in every respect on her way. Plus the roots and jazz vision of guitarist Julian Lage. 

Lillie Mae has lived a classic Nashville journey. She came of age on Lower Broadway, playing six nights a week with her family band as a teenager. She and her siblings were mentored and produced by the great Cowboy Jack Clement. Her band was signed to and dropped from a major country label. Then she became a side musician for Jack White and eventually, he asked her to join the roster of Third Man Records, where she made the acclaimed debut album Forever And Then Some. The 26 year old is already exceptionally experienced and in every respect on her way. Plus the roots and jazz vision of guitarist Julian Lage.

Delbert McClinton has two gifts that have served him well. He’s got a one in a million voice. It’s thunder and whiskey and leather and silk. It’s instantly recognizable. It’s innate and inimitable. Delbert’s other gift is a lifelong stubborn refusal to lend that voice to anything he doesn’t love, and he’s got really top drawer taste. He has released nothing for the sake of a short term hit and thus nothing that he needs to apologize for. Over 50 years.

Delbert’s the subject of a new biography, One of the Fortunate Few, which came out late last year. It’s by established Texas-based music writer Diana Finlay Hendricks. It’s a great read and it was great preparation to talk about coming of age in Ft Worth TX, lighting out for California on a whim and chasing dreams across the country living out of a bus for years. He helped establish a beach head for roots music in New York in the 70s and inspired the Blues Brothers band. He then settled in Nashville where his songwriting took new leaps forward and he made the best recordings of his career for New West Records. 

Also, a conversation with John Strohm, the new president of Rounder Records and Sugar Hill Records, two legendary roots labels that are now part of the very large but musically-focused Concord Music group.