Sound Biscuit: Producing Great Music While Soppin’ Up the Meal of Life

The label/studio name came to him one hungry morning.

“I was eating a biscuit for breakfast, and then I thought, what about Sound Biscuit?” explained Sound Biscuit label/studio founder Dave Maggard.  “For some reason, it just stuck,” he said. Later, he discovered that biscuit was also slang in the vinyl era for the pucks used to press records.

“Making a record was making a biscuit,” Maggard added. “It worked out well. I’ve had so many people that I’ve given shirts or hats, and they come to me, and they say, ‘What’s a Sound Biscuit?’” Maggard said, usually answering the question at least four times a day.

“I’ve got an old ’55 panel truck with Sound Biscuit written on the side, and people will literally pull up beside me, roll down their window and want to know what a sound biscuit is.”

A name that was once a spur-of-the-moment idea has created a titan in Bluegrass recording. Just off a winding stretch in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, nestled near the wooded hush of the Smoky Mountains, sits a recording studio where songs are crafted with grit, warmth, and a little magic. This place is Sound Biscuit—a Grammy-nominated recording studio and record label that doesn’t merely record music. It cultivates, nurtures, and sends it out into the world wrapped in heart and purpose.

At the heart of it all is Dave Maggard, a man whose roots run deep in mountain soil and musical tradition. He’s not the guy who followed a business plan—he followed a calling—one that started decades ago when bluegrass legends were just neighbors stopping by for breakfast.

“I have loved music my whole life,” Maggard said. “As I was growing up, I went to see J.D. Crowe play at the Great Midwestern, Louisville, Kentucky, in 1975. I had to sneak in. I wasn’t old enough to drink beer.”

Maggard grew up in a scene where Ralph Stanley, Ricky Skaggs, and Keith Whitley weren’t icons yet—they were just guys trying to catch a meal and a break. “They were nobody back then. They were just old bluegrass musicians trying to get fed, trying to get to the next show,” he said.

After years of making music for beer money on the sidewalks of Gatlinburg, Maggard detoured into woodcarving, traveling as a sculptor and artist. But in his fifties, he circled back to the sound that never left his bones.

“I went back to school at the Recording Workshop in Ohio. I wasn’t looking for another career, I just wanted to understand the process,” he said. “When I got out, I thought, I gotta do something with this knowledge.”

That knowledge fueled the early incarnation—one room and an ISO booth—and evolved into a top-tier facility capable of everything from basic tracking to full album production, post-production mixing, ADR, voiceover, and audiobook work. Not to be limited, Sound Biscuit has partnered with Warner Bros. Studios for real-time voiceover and ADR recording. That alone would be enough to set Sound Biscuit apart, but the technology is only a tool here. The real power lies in how Maggard uses it—to create moments, to guide careers, and to make music that matters.

The label's turning point came in 2018 when a few members of The Po' Ramblin' Boys showed up at Sound Biscuit to borrow mic stands. “They wanted to do a gospel album, so I said why don’t you do it on a label? Let me start a label, let’s do Sound Biscuit,” Maggard said. That album, God’s Love Is So Divine, was deeply personal and beautifully crafted. Their next project, Toil, Tears & Trouble, landed a Grammy nomination. “That trajectory to a Grammy was so outside my thought pattern,” he said. “That was a real ‘wow’ moment.”

What followed was a string of collaborations with some of the most respected names in bluegrass and country, including Doyle Lawson, Dale Ann Bradley, and Bobby Osborne. “Getting to work with Doyle Lawson doing his final album – what a privilege to be able to do that,” Maggard said.

Maggard’s approach to talent—whether rising or seasoned—is the same: respect the story, support the soul. He has a particular fondness for working with newcomers. “I love working with someone who doesn’t have a clue what they’re doing and helping them understand what they need to do,” he said. “They’ll either walk outta here and go, ‘I don’t want to do this for a living,’ or ‘this is a challenge, and I really want to go for it.”

To meet the needs of these emerging voices, Sound Biscuit is preparing to launch Gravy Records, an imprint designed to guide young artists through the maze of copyrights, studio processes, and artistic development. “We’re laying the groundwork for a new leg of Sound Biscuit specifically designed to work with emerging artists… people that need that next step of help,” Maggard said. “We’ve already signed four stellar artists. Killer. We’re so excited.”

Despite its roots in bluegrass, Sound Biscuit doesn’t limit itself to one sound. The studio has recorded in nearly all genres. “We don’t just do bluegrass. We’ve worked with didgeridoos and bagpipes,” he said. “Bluegrass picked me with The Po' Ramblin' Boys. It wasn’t like I went out and solicited bluegrass. It just came to me and I went with the flow.”

Maggard's belief in music as community is baked into everything Sound Biscuit does, from Kids on Bluegrass sponsorships to establishing a scholarship at East Tennessee State University. “That’s one of our main emphases,” he said. “We auctioned off a guitar last year to help raise funds.” And it doesn’t stop with donations, he’s always ready to open the studio doors when a young player needs a leg up. That generosity of spirit extends into sessions that become legends. One day, Doyle Lawson, Phil and Matt Ledbetter, Tim Stafford, Barry Abernathy, Jason Moore, and Jim Van Cleve came together to record “Resurrection Morning” for the family of the late Steve Gulley.

“We recorded Resurrection Morning here, which Vince Gill was on,” Maggard said. “We did the base here. And all these people, all of them, loved Steve.”

With every passing year, Sound Biscuit’s catalog grows, but the intention behind each note defines the label. “What I do with the label is really give them a resume and an opportunity,” Maggard said. “It’s not about me making money for the company.”

For Maggard, it’s about legacy and creating something lasting for the people around him. He doesn’t advertise or chase clients. Instead, Sound Biscuit attracts people by simply being a place they want to be.

“I want to create something that is interesting and so attractive that people want to be a part of it,” he said. “I want to work with people who want to be here.

Maggard’s focus is clear: create an environment where his team—and the artists they serve—can live full, meaningful lives doing what they love. And Dave doesn’t waste a second. He pours that time into building Sound Biscuit not just as a studio or label, but as a platform for others to thrive.

His life philosophy came into sharp focus during a conversation where a colleague demonstrated a perspective he had concerning, well, life.

“I was getting ready to make a big investment,” he said. “I'm looking at this investment, and the guy looks at me and says, ‘Let me show you something.’ He took out a measuring tape, held one end, and then handed it to me. ‘Now go to 76 [inch mark on the tape].’ I went to 76 and he said, ‘Now, the average life expectancy of a male in the United States is 76. Okay, where's your number?’ And I'm looking at 68 and it's like, right there, close to me, and I look at where he's standing [at zero]. And you realize where you've been and what you've enjoyed, and then you look at what you've got left.”

“I want to create something that’s going to outlive me,” he said. “That’s going to provide Shane, Keith... and whoever we hire... the opportunity to do what they love. But also, if Shane’s got his kid’s soccer game, I think you need to go be there. Priorities should be their families and their lives. The happiness of being with family, that’s important.”

And that’s what makes Sound Biscuit a living, breathing testament to the idea that making music and making a life can—and should—go hand in hand. In a world full of noise, Dave Maggard has built a place where sound has meaning, and every moment counts. The great songwriting icon Warren Zevon, in his last days, was noted to say, “Enjoy every sandwich.” To that end, Sound Biscuit fills the belly, the ear, and the heart.