Lathemtown, a small, unincorporated community in North Georgia, is the kind of place where cows outnumber streetlights, and where people grow up knowing every neighbor by name.    This is the place that shaped singer-songwriter Kurt Lee Wheeler — first as the son of a cattleman and homemaker, then as a musician who would one day return to its soil in search of the stories he left behind. When Wheeler talks about his hometown, his voice settles into an easy rhythm, the kind that comes from a lifetime of telling certain stories without ever needing to embellish them. This landscape, these people, and the quiet struggles folded into their days, form the spine of Wheeler’s new album  Lathemtown . It is his most personal work yet.   “We're about 35 miles north of Atlanta,” Wheeler says, “and this is an agricultural community for the most part. I grew up in the cattle business and hog business, and there was nothing else to do but to play football and baseball, and fish.” He estimates the community’s population at only a couple of thousand people when he was growing up. “I mean, our elementary school had 200 students in it – first through eighth grade.”   Growing up in Lathemtown also gave Wheeler the opportunity to observe the resilience of people weathering hardship with quiet dignity. The stories passed down by his parents and grandparents, the tragedies stitched into the fabric of his family, and the lessons learned by watching others endure, became the foundation for his songwriting.    “My mom and dad are still alive, and my grandparents' land just finally sold last year,” Wheeler said, noting that several generations of his family grew up in Lathemtown.    Those memories sat dormant for decades before reemerging in the form of melodies and narrative threads, sometimes in dreams, sometimes arriving all at once after days of fasting and reflection. “I do a lot of fasting,” Wheeler explains. “I'd just come out of an 11-day fast, and I think I wrote two or three of these songs one morning, sitting at the table.”   He’s been making records since the early ’90s, but  Lathemtown  marks a turning point — an album written from a deeper place, shaped by age, distance, and a sharpened sense of what matters. Wheeler’s songs feel lived-in, rooted in his decades of experience as a teacher, father, pastor, military veteran, and storyteller. He claims he did not set out to write a concept album; instead, the pieces surfaced on their own, tapping him on the shoulder until he followed.   “Every album I've ever done meant more than the last one,” he reflects. “But because of family,and home, and going back,  this  album -- beyond the shadow of a doubt -- means more to me than any other.”   New textures and depth   Wheeler’s earliest musical inspiration came from many directions, including classic southern rock, alternative rock, and college radio from the ’80s and ’90s. His first album,  Bama Motel (1992), offered hints of these influences, even while he was still finding his own voice.   “Growing up, my biggest influences would've been The Monkees, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Deep Purple, probably in that order,” he says, “and Edgar Winter’s album  Shock Treatment . I actually would like to cover some Monkees songs at some point.”   The personal depth of  Lathemtown  is also attributable to Wheeler’s experience as a father. He says that watching his son struggle, adapt, and ultimately carve out his own path provided great inspiration for the song “Portland.”   “You'd think it's about losing a lover, but it's really about a father and a son, and having to trust him with the process,” Wheeler reflects. “My son decided to move out to Portland, and I was very proud of him. That was a bold move. We packed up that Subaru and he took off across the country.”   VIDEO: Kurt Lee Wheeler, “Portland”    Wheeler’s collaborators on  Lathemtown —producer and multi-instrumentalist Jeff Partin, along with Aaron Ramsey on banjo and mando, guitarist Jake Stargel, and John Rice on fiddle—helped translate the songs into their final form. Their bluegrass acumen brought new textures and depth to Wheeler’s project.    Covers often find their way into Wheeler’s catalog, but always with intention, and this recording is no exception. His version of the Foo Fighters’ “Times Like These” grew out of the sudden death of a close friend, and the emotions that followed. His take on Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” came from long-standing admiration of the tune, and a realization that its ethereal feel aligned perfectly with his own sensibilities. Rather than imitate, he reshapes these songs into meditations that carry his own fingerprint.   “That song is haunting,” Wheeler said of the Isaak tune. “It's spiritually  otherworldly . It's almost cult-like in its ability to grab hold of my soul. It's three chords played 44 times. It violates every songwriting principle. I thought we could keep the same melody and add a D major 7, and ended up having an Alison Krauss kind of vibe to it.”   VIDEO: “Wicked Game” covered by Kurt Lee Wheeler   Whispers between the lines   The most enduring lessons come from home. Wheeler talks often about his father—a cattleman with a gift for conversation, a deep love of the earth, and a steady generosity that left a lasting imprint on an impressionable son. Those qualities continue to guide Wheeler through his life and music.   “My dad is the most gracious, generous man I've met,” he says. “He loves cattle, he loves the earth, he loves nature, he loves people. I learned how to give by watching my mom and dad give, sacrificially, sometimes out of their own deficits.”   As for what he hopes listeners take away from  Lathemtown , Wheeler speaks with quiet honesty. The album is not an attempt at grandeur, or a bid for reinvention. It is an invitation to sit with emotion—his, and perhaps our own—and find a measure of solace or recognition in the stories.   “There are things I say and whisper between the lines,” he says. “People might find  themselves  in there and go,  ‘Oh,  okay . I  get  that.’ ” He’s glad his music serves as a balm. “If listeners can find a little respite for their journey, or if they can touch loss in a way that helps them identify better with it, that's what I hope.”   Visit Kurt Lee Wheeler online at  http://www.kurtleewheelermusic.com .

Long before he was inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Jerry Douglas was a little boy surrounded by music in his hometown of Warren, Ohio.    “My father was from West Virginia and worked in the steel mills in Ohio, and he and some of his co-workers had a band (the West Virginia Travelers) that easily could have gone professional,” Jerry says. “They played in local beer joints, but their main focus was their work at the mills.”    Like many kids, Jerry says he plunked on an instrument when he was a small child. “I started playing the mandolin when I was four or five and did that for a few years before I got a Sears and Roebuck guitar,” he recalls. “It was like playing a cheese grater.”    When he heard the music of Flatt and Scruggs, a lightbulb went off in Jerry’s head. “I saw Josh Graves play Dobro with them, and I was hooked. I wanted to  be him .”    The boy asked his father to help him modify his guitar. “My dad raised the strings on my Silvertone, and I used a piece of copper pipe for my first slide,” he says. Jerry started playing Dobro with his dad’s band when he was 13 years old. “The guys in the band were great to me,” he remembers. “I learned by watching my dad play, and I practiced all the time.”    During that period, he explains, there seemed to be a lot of bluegrass on people’s minds, but there were not a lot of players. His dad took him to festivals, and when he was 13, the young musician met his idol, Josh Graves. “We were at a campground, and we were told that he was coming with Lester Flatt,” says Jerry. “When he saw me, he approached me and suggested we swap guitars before we started playing.   I remember to this day what the neck of his guitar felt like. ”   What Graves taught young Jerry that evening was a valuable lesson in musical generosity. “Now I’m an open book,” he says. “I’ve had the opportunity to teach a few times with Hot Rize. We took over an elementary school in Oregon for a few summers to teach. I love seeing people learn and watching them progress in their music careers.”    Becoming Flux   Jerry joined the Country Gentlemen in 1973 and toured with them until joining J.D. Crowe’s New South in 1975. In September of that year, he formed Boone Creek with his New South bandmate Ricky Skaggs. When Boone Creek disbanded in 1978, Jerry joined The Whites, recording several albums with Buck, Cheryl, and Sharon over the next seven years.    VIDEOS: J.D. Crowe & The New South, “Devil In Disguise”    Boone Creek, “One Way Track”    The Whites with Jerry Douglas, “Swing Down Chariot”   Over his long career, Jerry’s work has been recognized with many awards, from the ten times he’s been recognized as the International Bluegrass Music Association’s Resophonic Guitar Player of the Year, to his induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2024... and many other honors in between, including an amazing 16 GRAMMY awards and three CMA Musician of the Year awards. (Oh, and he’s also the winner of a 2004 NEA National Heritage Fellowship.)    He’s a sought-after Nashville session musician and producer, and his distinctive sound can be heard on more than 1,500 albums. What Jimi Hendrix was to the electric guitar, Jerry Douglas is to the resonator guitar. He doesn’t just play the instruments; he transforms, elevates, and reinvents them. It’s no wonder that he is a 16-time GRAMMY winner.    Years ago, Jerry was given the nickname “Flux” by Ricky Skaggs because Skaggs thought he was fluid, with the ability to play anything, anytime, with anyone. Flux is playing now more than ever, fronting The Jerry Douglas Band and recording and touring for many other projects, including John Hiatt, The Earls of Leicester, Transatlantic Sessions, and, of course, Alison Krauss & Union Station.    VIDEOS:   The Jerry Douglas Band, “Gone To Fortingall,” DelFest 2022   The Earls of Leicester, “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down,” Salt Stage/FreshGrass Festival   Transatlantic Sessions, “Route Irish”   And 2026 started with a bang: first, there was the McCoury & Douglas Family Pickin’ Party, followed by Peter Rowan’s birthday party at the Ryman Auditorium, followed by a tour of the United Kingdom with the Transatlantic Sessions. After this month’s Suwannee Spring Reunion, he’ll go back out on tour until October, performing more than 60 shows with AKUS in concert halls and amphitheaters all over the country.      VIDEO: Alison Krauss & Union Station on reuniting and their first album in over a decade   Jerry’s fascination with different musical genres and their origins has led to a board position with the National Council for the Traditional Arts (NCTA), which produces the National Folk Festival. “I’ve been to several cities for the festival over the past several years, and I’ve played in many of them,” he says. “I love that festival because it is so educational. It exposes audiences to music they may never have heard before.”    In addition to touring and playing on his own projects, Jerry has co-produced or produced over 100 albums for major artists, including The Del McCoury Band, The Whites, John Hiatt, Molly Tuttle, Alison Krauss, Steep Canyon Rangers, Maura O’Connell, and others. He also produced The Great Dobro Sessions (winner of the GRAMMY for Best Bluegrass Album in 1995), and Southern Filibuster: The Songs of Tut Taylor, a passion project that honored the late flatpicking Dobro man.    VIDEO: The Great Dobro Sessions (complete album)   While his schedule doesn’t allow for one-on-one teaching as much as he’d like, Jerry has developed an online resonator guitar course for Modern Music Masters. This video series, described as a “guided tour towards learning and mastering the Dobro, teaches foundational skills for beginners who want a solid start, shares insights with experienced players to help fix bad habits, and offers fans of reso guitars an inside look at how the guitars are made and played. (Check it out at  https://modernmusicmasters.com/jerry-douglas-lp .)   That certainly ties in with Jerry’s musical generosity. Whether he is teaching, promoting, producing, or creating it, Jerry Douglas has made an indelible and lasting mark on bluegrass.   Visit Jerry Douglas online at  https://jerrydouglas.com .

Shelby Means is comfortable performing.    That comes from nearly eight years playing bass and singing harmony with the bands Della Mae and Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway. But now she’s center stage and in charge as she leads her own band after the release of her first album, simply called  Shelby Means .   Shelby with Della Mae: Shelby with Molly Tuttle:   “There's a lot more responsibility in fronting my own band,” says Means.  “But the more comfortable I can be on stage, the more authentic and real the music comes across.”   The eponymous album showcases Means’s personal writing (all but two of the songs are originals), and the playing of A-team artists including Jerry Douglas, Bryan Sutton, Molly Tuttle, Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, and Billy Strings. It’s only natural that this is a bluegrass album, given that Mean’s father, a banjo player, used to wake her for school by sitting at the foot of her bed playing “Cripple Creek” or “Salty Dog.” That story is told on “5 String Wake-Up Call,” perhaps the most autobiographical song on the album. Other songs tell about growing up in Wyoming, moving away from Nashville, and life on the road.   “5 String Wake-Up Call”:   “I think it's fun to mix it up like that -- to put a little bit of me and my experiences in there, and then just let my imagination run wild sometimes,” she says. “And whatever happens in that world can be fun to uncover.”   Her father’s musical influence went beyond morning banjo serenades. “He would take us to contests and music festivals when we were growing up,” Means remembers. “My brother Jacob plays the mandolin. He started playing when he was eight, and he stuck with that instrument. Unlike me -- I changed instruments. I first started on fiddle and then I switched around to viola, guitar, and then bass. But singing was really a constant for me.”   Means studied music and business at the University of Wyoming but moved to Nashville before graduating. “I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but I knew that I wasn't going to find it in Laramie. And I just wanted to be surrounded by musicians that were better than me,” she says.    A chance encounter with the guitarist Courtney Hartman, whom she’d come to know at festivals when they were growing up, led to the gig with Della Mae. And after four years with Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway, Means felt she was ready to step up her game.   “I had a duo with my husband (singer/songwriter Joel Timmons), and that gave me some experience doing stage banter and writing set lists and putting things together,” she says. “And then being in the background and watching how Molly leads a show, and learning from my bandmates Kyle Tuttle and Bronwyn... I feel like all those experiences have led me to this moment where I now get to front my own band.”    One of the covers on the album is Lady Gaga’s “Million Reasons.” Means admires the pop star’s music and stagecraft, and might be inspired by the latter, as her own bold onstage fashions go beyond the denim and gingham of her predecessors.    “Million Reasons”    “I think it's great, and maybe a way to appeal to a younger audience, and get some of the kids thinking, ‘Oh, we can wear cool clothes and be on stage and play acoustic music!’ If you want to wear a t-shirt and jeans, or if you want to wear rhinestones and high heels, it doesn't really matter at the end of the day -- as long as the music sounds good,” she explains.   Ironically, perhaps, Means started her band after having left Nashville nearly five years ago, relocating to her husband’s home in Charleston, S.C.    “It doesn’t have the pool of pickers that Nashville has by any means, but thankfully there is still some bluegrass here,” she comments. “And with my life being on the road, it turns out that it didn't really matter where I live, because when I come home, I'm just a little bit on break, you know? And Nashville is a constant hustle. When you're home, it still feels like you're working. So, coming to Charleston feels like the antidote to life on the road. And that was what I needed.”   Means pulls from a select roster of Nashville players when she’s touring, but the core of the band consists of her brother on mandolin and Timmons on guitar. Though she’s performed and recorded Americana music with her husband, she went back to her musical home on her first album.   “It’s paying homage to my roots, and I was inspired by Bronwyn and Molly putting out straight-ahead bluegrass. Or maybe not traditional bluegrass, but very much bluegrass albums,” she muses. “And I wanted to do that, too. A lot of people maybe didn't know that I could sing before I put the record out. I think it was just important for me to leave a stamp in the bluegrass world and say, ‘Hey, I love bluegrass music.’ I'm choosing to make a bluegrass record, and it's important to me, and I hope to be a part of the bluegrass scene for years to come.”   Check out Shelby online at  https://www.shelbyleemeans.com .

Donna Ulisse spent 25 years on Music Row in Nashville, where, she says, writers were kings.    Now Donna’s in a position to make other writers feel that same sense of importance with her newly formed publishing company, Tall Oaks Music.    “When I signed with Turnberry Records, owner Keith Barnacastle told me to dream as big as I wanted to dream,” she says. “I mentioned to him that there was no publishing company under his umbrella, which is something I had always dreamed of doing. He told me to go for it.”    But for a year after that conversation, Donna dragged her feet. “I didn’t know what the  angle was,” she says. Finally, it dawned on her that Doyle Lawson was the missing link – the  angle  she had been looking for. “We have worked together for so long that we see music the same,” she says. “I’d pitch him 20 to 30 songs, and he’d pick out the ones he liked, and he’d tell me why. He had a way of making all the difference.”    Donna called Doyle to share her idea. Her first words, when Doyle answered the phone, were  “Don’t say no!”  She told him what she had in mind. After thinking about it, he called her back and said he’d partner with her in the new publishing company.    “I phoned Keith and said, ‘What if I can get you a big name?’” she recounts. “I told him it was Doyle Lawson, and Keith was delighted! He’s a big fan of Doyle’s.”    Nurturing songs and songwriters   Donna and Doyle have now joined forces with Keith to form Tall Oaks Music, building it around songwriters. “We have signed some amazing writers,” Donna says, and she’s right: the roster includes Kevin Denney (known for "That's Just Jessie," a Top 20 hit on the Billboard Hot Country chart); Darren Nicholson (formerly with Balsam Range); Tom Botkin (who penned Dailey & Vincent's "On the Other Side"); Jack Shannon (writer of Jim Hurst’s recent hit “Same Old Moon”); Dawn Kenney (co-writer of “Something About A Train,” covered by Valerie Smith & Liberty Pike); and Ali Shumate (known for  Every Bit Of Me , her 2019 album of original material).    “We also have Paul Williams on our roster,” Donna says, adding that the 90-year-old IBMA Hall of Fame member has been writing together with Doyle recently. “It’s an exciting group, with both traditional and edgier writers. We also have a few country writers. We are branching out, just like the branches on a tall oak tree.”    Excited about working with Doyle, Donna says he only knows how to approach music one way. “He sets the bar out of sight, then goes for it,” she explains. The two will share responsibilities at their new company. “My wheelhouse is editing, so I’ll handle that. We call Doyle ‘the song doctor,’ because that’s what he does best. He will also do more song pitching because he knows so many people.” Donna hopes one day to hire an in-house song plugger who can pitch Tall Oak material to musicians, record labels, and other industry professionals. “Our goal is to be a high-functioning publishing house,” she says.    Through Tall Oaks, Donna and Doyle will mainly act as song nurturers, guiding the writers as they go. “We will also nurture the writers [themselves], and make sure they get the credit they deserve.” The company has already received numerous inquiries from interested songwriters, she adds. “But we are cautious not to overburden our roster. We have a few new writers, and we want to give them all the attention they need.”    A lot of that nurturing will take place at The Little House, the cottage next to Donna’s home in Lebanon, Tennessee. “The Little House will be the songwriting headquarters for Tall Oaks Music,” she says, adding that the place was designed to be a nurturing place for songwriters. “I teach songwriting there with Jerry Salley and my husband, Rick Stanley.”    The new endeavor is an exciting one for Doyle, who often travels to The Little House from his home in Bristol, Tennessee, for songwriting sessions. “I am more than a little excited about being a part of Tall Oaks Music, working alongside Donna Ulisse and the songwriters who have agreed to write for us,” he says. “Our mission is to be the place where writers know that we will be working hard to get their songs heard and recorded, and an artist who may be looking for a particular kind of song can reach out to us.”   Donna reports that working with Tall Oaks evokes memories of when she first started in the music business. “I started coming to Nashville when I was 14 or 15,” she marvels. “Now I’m excited to be in the room with these young, on-fire writers! This makes it new for me again.”   Full disclosure: Keith Barnacastle is also the publisher of this magazine. Visit Tall Oaks Music online at  https://www.talloaksmusic.com .

At the Mentone Fall Festival last October, exuberant Bluegrass melodies floated on the mountain breeze. When not browsing the colorful artist’s booths, visitors to the festival made their way to an outdoor amphitheater with dogs and small children in tow. Three on a String was on stage, and their audience knew they were listening to something special. Few bands or friendships last fifty-four years, but this is what the talented men behind one of Alabama’s most cherished Bluegrass bands have accomplished. With each performance they deliver rousing music and boisterous jokes, and draw longtime friends from across the state, all while turning younger audience members into Bluegrass fans due to their artistry and wit.Three on a String was founded in 1971 by Jerry Ryan and Bobby Horton. Jerry sang and played guitar when he was not coaching high school basketball. Bobby was a college student who loved banjo music. The organizer of a Bluegrass festival at Horse 40, near Steele, AL, asked Jerry to help with the inaugural festival.   Interest in the Bluegrass genre had spiked due to the success of the long-running television series “The Beverly Hillbillies” and the Oscar winning film  Bonnie and Clyde , which featured the song "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" in some of the chase scenes.    “Jerry asked Bobby to join him to do a set,” explains Jerry’s son Brad. “They played about sevensongs, because that's all they had time to learn.” It was a steep learning curve as Jerry took on emceeing and playing in the first Bluegrass festival he had ever attended. “From there they added a bass player to kind of fill out the sound,” says Ryan, “and Three on a String was born.”   “They kind of had perfect on-stage chemistry,” explains Ryan. “And in those years any band that had a decent banjo player could get bookings at festivals.”     An early influence on Three on a String was The Kingston Trio, and Horton and Ryan blended their love of Bluegrass music with folk as they gravitated towards sing-along songs, which Alabama audiences enjoy. “As the years go by you kind of become your own thing, or hopefully you do,” explains Brad, who eventually became the permanent bassist. “That way you can kind of do more original stuff or take some other influences and try to make it your own and put it in your style”After the gifted multi-instrumentalist after Andy Meginniss joined the group, they ventured into more original material as well as continuing to cover standards in the Bluegrass genre such as “Rocky Top,” “Rollin My Sweet Baby’s Arms,” “Mountain Dew” and “Dueling Banjos.”   “People still love those tunes,” Brad states. “Many bands don't like to play them, but we love to.” Some of their most popular original songs are “Best of Friends,” written by Meginniss, and Horton crafted “Baroque-Down,” an instrumental piece gently pokes fun at classical musicians.    “We like to tell little stories throughout our show that folks can identify with,” Brad explains."Still Kicking,” is another audience favorite, partly due to performing for five decades. “We have reached ‘senior status’ as has a lot of our crowd,” Brian says. “So, they can identify with that song, and us,” he laughs. But they also draw young listeners with every concert.VIDEO : Three on a String performing their signature song “They seem to always come up and tell us how much they enjoyed the show, which makes us feel so good that we still connect with all generations,” Brad says. “If you move people in some kind of way, with music, stories or jokes, they appreciate it and they will come back to see you.”   Three on a String’s distinctive sound—due in part to Jerry’s choice to not attempt imitating their extremely popular contemporary Bill Monroe—has wrought some unusual audience feedback over time.“It's kind of funny but someone once said, 'Ya'll don't sing like a bluegrass band’. We think it was meant as a negative comment, but we always thought of it as a compliment,” Brad explains. “Jerry’s thinking was, ‘let's just sound like us.’”   Three on a String has either opened or performed with musical luminaries such as the Statler Brothers, Red Skelton, Barbara Mandrel, Jeff Foxworthy and Ray Stevens. “We recently did a Christmas tour throughout the south with 'Sean of the South', who has a huge following,” Brad says of the humorist and musician Sean Dietrich. A particular thrill for the band was their induction to the Alabama Music Hall of Fame in 2023. Brad says that everyone appreciated the recognition for their accomplishments over five decades in the music business. “We just walked around on cloud nine for a year or so,” he laughs. In addition to his contributions to Three on a String, Horton—who plays an astonishing twenty instruments—has collaborated with the renowned filmmaker Ken Burns. Horton’s musicianship has been featured in more than ten documentaries for PBS, including the most recent  The American Revolution. Bobby Horton performing in the Ken Burns documentary The Civil War: “Bobby's work with Ken Burns has been incredible,” Brad says. “We like to brag on that fact. He is a history nut, so he has been able to combine his love for music and his love for history into a very rewarding career.” When a band performs together for fifty-four years changes are inevitable, and Jerry Ryan’s decision to retire as leader of the band, which led to an outpouring of appreciation from devoted fans. Today, when Horton, Meginniss and Brad Ryan get together, they are just as stoked to perform at small community shows as they get excited for a large concert. “We love to perform and just be ourselves,” Brad states. “We love to see old friends and make new ones. We just feel very blessed to be able to do this. And we still appreciate every minute of it.”   Learn more about Three on a String online at  https://www.threeonastring.com/

In a world grappling with artificial intelligence and smartphones, the genre-defying Damn Tall Buildings would like to remind us that we are living, breathing human beings.   Both their latest self-produced album (released in October 2025), and its title track, “The Universe Is Hungry”— equipped with joyous harmony and front-porch playing chops — invite us to look beyond the virtual veil.   VIDEO: “The Universe Is Hungry,” Damn Tall Buildings   Injecting levity into their music, fiddle player Avery Ballotta, bassist/vocalist Sasha Dubyk, and guitarist/banjoist and vocalist Max Capistran (who is Sasha’s husband), sing about a world struggling to catch up with itself.   “We are very sarcastic!” admits Max Capistran, who writes much of the band’s material. “I am a big fan of stand-up comedy; in fact, the whole band is.”   Not surprisingly, Capistran looks to the late John Hartford for inspiration.
“Hartford is a huge influence of ours, and we have been vocal about that for a long time,” the songwriter says. “He had a great way of talking about heavy topics while making you smile, and having a little laugh.”   VIDEO: “Steam Powered Aereoplane" by John Hartford   Driven by humanity   As a 21 st  century songwriter, Capistran is acutely aware of the dangers of media. “We are surrounded by crises that can feel like a weight pushing down,” he cautions. “It’s the constant knowing all the worst things happening around the world that are always on your cell phone.”   He is convinced that real human interaction can help. “I think a good initiative for everyone is if we would say to ourselves, ‘Ya know, I need to talk to at least one stranger today,’” he observes. “It doesn’t have to be a big conversation -- just a connection. The more that happens in day-to-day life, the better.”   Capistran speaks from experience. 
 “I have these little moments with the band on the road, and as an individual in New York,” shares the Brooklynite, “all these tiny interactions with strangers where [we] make each other smile, whether it’s a cashier in a restaurant or someone on the street. That gives me hope in humanity.”   Though the title track from the new album has a theme that could have been inspired by science fiction, it’s actually driven by humanity. “Whatever is taking hold of us in terms of technology and the internet is a powerful, mysterious thing. I think that is the metaphor behind ‘The Universe is Hungry,’” explains Capistran.   Not all songs, however, have the same message. “There is a thread that ties the album together; I wrote them in a chunk of time,” reveals Capistran, the band’s chief songwriter, whose lyrics on the songs “Simulator” and “Can’t Slow Down” combine with “The Universe Is Hungry.” The project also includes material from other artists, like Roy Orbison’s “Blue Bayou,” Bill Monroe’s “Big Ball in Brooklyn,” and a cover of an Ethiopian song called “Legesse Abdi.”   VIDEO S:   Damn Tall Buildings, “Big Ball In Brooklyn,” LIVE The band’s adventures aren’t restricted to music. In September, Damn Tall Buildings wrapped up a thrilling week-long visit to Saudi Arabia, as part of the U.S. State Department’s Cultural Exchange Program. The visit included both performances and workshops. “Learning from each other promotes peace and a better discourse between countries,” shares Capistran. “It is so important, and we feel honored to have been a part of it. It’s something we wanted to do for a long time.”   During a highlight of that tour, Saudi composer Majed Mohammed performed with Damn Tall Buildings at Jeddah arts complex Hayy Jameel. “Collaboration is essential, and it is truly amazing. Experiences like this, where Arabic music connects with other cultures, help share our art with the community and broaden our understanding,” Mohammed told Arab News . “For me as a composer, working with them has been inspiring and has pushed me to explore new creative directions.”   Diverse backgrounds, positive vibes   Tracing Damn Tall Buildings’ roots to Boston’s Newbury Street, where the band did plenty of busking in its early days, Capistran says each member brings something unique to the table.    “Our sound has a lot to do with our different backgrounds,” explains the writer, who says his wife Sasha grew up with jazz and theater. “Her grandmother was a Copacabana dancer, so there was a lot of art and music in her family, including an aunt who played bluegrass.”   And according to Capistran, many fans have no idea that Avery Ballotta is a classically trained violinist. “He’s also a composer, so he has great ideas when it comes to motifs, and he has a very percussive way of playing.” (By the way, fiddle legend Darol Anger was Ballotta’s teacher and mentor at Berklee College of Music, which is also the alma mater of Capistran and Dubyk. No wonder Damn Tall Buildings makes such damn great music!)   Capistran himself grew up listening to blues and rock music. “I thought I was going to be a blues guitar player!” he says. “I also like Bob Dylan and Modest Mouse. I think you can hear a lot of that stuff in my playing and songwriting.”   This is obviously a trio that encourages its listeners to make their own music --  and to seek out plenty of human interaction. About a year and a half ago, Dubyk and Capistran opened the Brooklyn doors of their Crown Heights Music School, which now has 160 students. “It’s been really cool working with people who are trying to connect to music,” Capistran says.     He believes he can explain why Damn Tall Buildings has such a positive vibe. “We started this band as friends,” he offers. “It’s like a relationship; it laid so much groundwork for us.” That groundwork, Capistran says, led to his marriage to Sasha. “The band has its little quarrels and hissing matches,” he laughs, “but we love each other.”   Whatever holds up these Damn Tall Buildings, this is good, solid stuff – damn fine music made by real human beings.   Visit the band online at https://www.damntallbuildings.com .

It’s late in Oak City, Utah, and Jake Workman’s house is quiet. His kids are asleep. The room hums faintly from the last ring of an open-G chord. Guitars lean against the wall, their finish dulled by fingerprints and years of work. Workman is still at it — six, sometimes eight hours a day — chasing sound, chasing feel, chasing that invisible thing that makes one note matter more than another.   “Oh, thank you,” he says when told his playing “Rawhide” with Ricky Skaggs in a YouTube video is jaw-dropping. He’s humble, matter-of-fact. But when he starts to talk about the journey that brought him here, it’s clear there’s nothing casual about Jake Workman.   “I started on the guitar when I was 13,” Workman said. “But at the time, I didn’t even know what bluegrass music was. That would have been 2001, and at the time, I was into classic rock. Like my dad loved the Beatles, so I listen to the Beatles. And then I got into Boston and eventually Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, some of the harder eighties bands. And then a year and a half after I started playing guitar.”   “My parents got me a banjo and I thought it was a joke – what am I gonna do with this?” he laughed. “I don’t play bluegrass; I have no connection to bluegrass. I didn’t grow up picking with my grandpa, like a lot of people do, or whatever, and I didn’t have that. My family was a bunch of note-bound piano players, and they’re great, but classical music and whatnot, and everything they do is reading sheet music. I have no problem with that, but I was the odd one for sure. I also grew up out west, where I wasn’t really around bluegrass, so it was weird that I got a banjo, but my parents thought, ‘You took off on the guitar, what the heck?’ And then that was the gateway drug to bluegrass music.”   That gateway drug changed everything.   “I still play the banjo. I still teach it and would do more gigs on it if they ever came to me, but I’m not known for my banjo playing. I don’t play it and practice it as hard as I did at one time.”   What keeps him coming back to the banjo is the raw, physical joy of it. “I love the power that I have at that point. Like, the sheer volume, and the ability to have picks on separate three fingers versus one piece of plastic [for guitar]. That’s nice for speed and just being able to hang with a tune. The speed and the sheer volume and power, you don’t have to play as hard to still be heard. I love that…but if I’m playing by myself, I’d much rather be on a guitar.”   “The cool thing about bluegrass music is it’s so physically demanding and teaches you so much about how to attack an acoustic instrument, but also how to play against chord changes and whatnot. And I use everything that I’ve learned in bluegrass, in all these other genres, and it only helps. It only helps.”   From that discipline came the kind of clarity that would make him stand out in any lineup. In 2015, Ricky Skaggs called. Jake joined Kentucky Thunder, where every night was a master class.   “I was aware of things like rhythm that Ricky either did like about what I was doing –  he always let me know when he’s enjoying the groove – but also, and especially in the beginning, he would let me know a few things that I was doing that he wouldn’t prefer to be going on. And of course, he’s the boss, and I’m happy to also just study from his experience. My groove and my rhythm, just my rhythm awareness. … I became a better listener. And yeah, I became better by being around great musicians, and hearing the ‘isms’ of each instrument at the very top level. You pick up things.”   He learned to honor what he calls “the Kentucky Thunder code.”    “For the Jake era of Kentucky Thunder, I wish we had a record to prove it. We got plenty of YouTube, but we never cut a record. I wish we did, but this is the Jake era. I don’t wanna sound like Brian [Sutton]. I don’t wanna sound like Cody [Kilby]. I love them to death, but I wanna sound like me.”   His time with Skaggs deepened not just his chops but his ear. “He always plays songs, not major, not minor, they’re in that modal in between Mountain minor kind of sounds where you have a major one chord, but you don’t always play the three, you don’t always make it obvious. And then the five chord is often minor, like a minor five chord, which you get in a mix of the Lydian world. And he’s not thinking deep like that. He’s just trusting his heart and his ears.”   That trust — intellect and instinct shaking hands — defines Workman’s philosophy. “Know your theory, but play from the gut,” he says later. It could be his credo.   “I don’t like to plan a record and say, I need tunes, so I’m gonna hurry and write ’ em. That’s just a recipe for cutting corners and not getting your best stuff out there. … If you allow that slow simmer, like from the writing to even the album artwork, don’t rush any piece of it so that it’s truly great and then you can release something epic that you’re proud of.”   That’s how Landmark  came to be, and that’s how the next record — still uncut, but written — will arrive. “If you liked Landmark, you’ll like this one. I think my writing is even better.”   “The writing is deeper. I do think that my ears hear new things. I feel like the core progressions are a little cooler. I’ve got some cool arrangement ideas that aren’t just ‘oh, I’ll play A B B, and we’ll just trade solos the whole song. So far, the 10 tunes or so that I’ve got are all, I’m covering a wide range of keys, and I’m not using a capo on a single one of them.”   That challenge keeps him alive as a player. “Every key kind of gives me a vibe, so to speak. Open D can be really pretty, or it can be very bluesy. It depends, but I’ve written a couple in D — one of them’s more of the bluesy thing, one’s more of the pretty thing.” Jazz, for him, sharpened the edges without forgetting the heart. “I had a lot of self-driven desire to understand music theory. So I showed up to school knowing a lot of things. I don’t care for ‘math music’ personally, but I think in general, jazz has a similar mindset as bluegrass, where you’re not wanting to be tethered to paper. You don’t wanna be tethered to sheet music or tab or anything. You want it to be in here and in the heart.”   And the groove, he says, is sacred. “We’re also trying to find this balance of tension and release. That’s the tension in jazz might be more extreme, and the release might still be a semi-colorful note in jazz. … In bluegrass, it’s the same concept of tension release.”   When talk turns to the modern jam-band scene, his response is honest and unfiltered. “I’m not into it, I don’t care for the Grateful Dead personally. I’ve never dug them. … I personally like traditional bluegrass. I don’t mind if guys are up there in suits around one mic. And singing from the Heart Vocal, three-part harmonies. Like I just, I love the Bluegrass, the true bluegrass thing.”   He pauses, then softens. “Billy Strings, for example, is a good friend and a great player, great musician, and I love what he’s doing. ’Cause I think he’s being true to himself. … If you can see that and feel that it’s good.”   Still, he warns, “I think there’s a lot of fakeness out there and a lot of seeking cheap thrills. … A light show and fog machine — if the music isn’t good first, I don’t care.”   These days, Jake is home more often, teaching from his studio in Utah. “Teaching, I love the interaction with people. I find a lot of joy in seeing people get excited about learning something. … Me teaching this stuff just makes me a better player. But I also think it’s just joyful, and I get to do it from right here.”   He’s found freedom in stability. “I can sit here and hold instruments that I would be holding anyway. Talk and think about stuff I would want to talk and think about anyway. It’s just a good gig.”   And like his name suggests, he works. “Yeah. I get after it, and if I get too much downtime, it stresses me out. [laughs] I’ve been practicing hard for so many years that fire lit when I was really young, and then it never went out. I’ll hold a guitar for six to eight hours a day, even to this day, if you let me and I have the time to do it.”   He laughs when told he’s got the perfect name for a blue-collar picker, like a character straight out of a Roger Miller song.    “Yeah,” he says, “it’s a good name for the spot that I’ve landed in.”   So, in a quiet Utah town, Jake Workman still put in the work — a scholar of sound, a craftsman of groove, a stickler for authenticity, and a man who never quite puts the guitar down. But then, I mean, why would he? ************************ Jake Workman’s Bluegrass-to-Plain-English Glossary   1. Modal / Mode A “mode” is a kind of musical scale that gives a tune its unique emotional flavor — bright, dark, or somewhere in between. When Jake says something is “modal,”  he means it doesn’t sound completely major (happy) or minor (sad). It lives in that old-world, Appalachian in-between that makes bluegrass sound both ancient and alive.   2. Mixolydian A mode often used in bluegrass, country, and rock. It sounds mostly major but has one lowered note — the flat seventh  — which gives it that earthy, mountain tone. When Jake mentions “the Mixolydian world,” he’s talking about that raw, rootsy sound you hear in songs like “Old Joe Clark” or “Salt Creek.”   3. Lydian A mode where one note (the fourth) is raised higher than in a standard major scale. It creates an open, floating, almost “glowing” sound. When Jake says “a mix of the Lydian world,”  he means he hears hints of that airy, lifted feeling in some bluegrass melodies — particularly in Ricky Skaggs’ mountain-style tunes.   4. Flat Third / Flat Fifth / Flat Seventh These describe notes that are slightly lower than in the major scale: Flat third = gives a bluesy or melancholy tone. Flat fifth = creates tension or grit. Flat seventh = adds a folk or mountain feel. When Jake lists these, he’s showing how bluegrass players create emotion through subtle dissonance — coloring the music rather than keeping it polished.   5. Tension and Release The back-and-forth motion that gives music life. Tension occurs when the notes sound as if they need  to resolve; release occurs when they finally do. Jake compares this to breathing — both bluegrass and jazz build emotion by moving between pressure and relief.   6. In Front of the Beat / Lying Back These describe where  a musician plays in time. Front of the beat = slightly ahead, creating that driven, urgent bluegrass energy. Lying back = slightly behind, giving a more relaxed or jazzy feel. Jake switches between these depending on the song’s personality.   7. Open Tuning / Open Key When the guitar’s strings, played without fretting, form a chord by themselves — like G or D. Open tunings let the guitar ring out more fully, giving specific keys a distinct mood. Jake experiments with open keys to find fresh sounds and ideas. 8. Flatpicking A bluegrass guitar technique using a single pick to play fast, melodic lines. It’s precise and percussive, blending rhythm and melody at once. Jake is one of today’s leading flatpickers — a direct descendant of players like Tony Rice and Doc Watson.   9. Mountain Minor A traditional Appalachian sound where melodies fall somewhere between major and minor. It gives songs a haunting, lonesome feel — part folk, part Celtic, entirely bluegrass. Jake calls it that “in-between mountain minor sound” that’s neither happy nor sad, just human.   12. Modal Run A quick musical phrase that uses one of those alternate scales (modes) instead of the standard major scale. It adds spice and movement to a solo, like taking a familiar road with a few scenic turns.   13. Modal Keys (Open A, D, E, etc.) When Jake says he’s writing tunes in open A , open D , or open E , he means he’s using the natural tuning of those keys — no capo — so each has its own color and ring. To him, every key has a “vibe” and a mood, just like a room has its own light.

The monumental Hillberry Bluegrass festival recently reached a milestone decade year, offering a five-day bluegrass festival at The Farm, just a few miles outside of historic Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Each year's atmosphere creates a unique persona of welcome, relaxation, and the indulgent appreciation of a grassroots movement that has been entertaining audiences for years. 'Happy Hillberry' was uttered on multiple occasions. It was almost as if this five-day bluegrass festival, with loyal concertgoers, campers, craft distributors, vendors, and newcomers, had morphed into a nationally recognized holiday.  Jon Walker, Deadhead Productions Manager and The Farm Campground Events owner, said this of Hillberry Harvest Moon Festival 2025: "We have produced 33 music festivals over the past 14 years. This year, I feel like we finally accomplished what we set out to do. The community came together and supported us on our 10-year anniversary of the Hillberry Music Festival. It was the highest attendance to date, yet the smoothest run event we have ever produced. We had some of the nicest people on the planet who traveled long distances to be here. We work hard to provide great production and great staff, but the people are truly what make our event special. The energy, gratitude, and love expressed by our attendees are what continue to push us forward. We are proud that we built this organically and that our intentions are driven by our love of music. We are beyond grateful to our community for their years of support in helping us build something so special that is the Hillberry Music Festival." The Farm is a large plot of rolling hills and autumn-changing trees that serves as a host for many local and far-reaching roots musicians, not to mention the hundreds of fans who show up, year after year, to enjoy their favorite bands and taste new and rising future bluegrass artists.  Hillberry 2025: The Harvest Moon Festival is a family-friendly event catering to all ages, from the youngest to the oldest, offering something special for everyone at this fall outdoor music lover's paradise in the heart of the Ozarks. While evening is when the heavy-hitting bands and solo artists put on their grand shows, daytime at Hillberry is full of a wide array of entertainment all its own. From human wheelbarrow races in the circus-striped media tent to multiple afternoon parades led by children of all ages, there is never a dull moment at this bluegrass oasis in the hills. Jon Walker of Deadhead Productions and owner of The Farm Campground and Events at 1 Blue Heron Lane in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, invited his soon-to-be 85-year-old mother to the Hillberry Harvest Moon Festival this year. "This was her first music festival. I have always tried to explain what I do, but I felt that she needed to see it with her own eyes, because it's hard to describe to someone what a festival is all about. She loved it!" shared Walker. On the other end of the age spectrum, proving that Hillberry has something to offer for every age, Adams Collins, Arkansauce banjo player, gave a touching shout-out to his four-month-old daughter, who also experienced her first Hillberry. You gotta start 'em young! (Something tells me, with her dad's mad string pickin' and vocal skills, this will not be his daughter's last Hillberry. She may even take center stage in the next few years, giving her ole man a run for his money). Tom Anderson, the stand-up bass player for Arkansauce, wished his wife, Holly, a Happy 10th anniversary while performing live in front of hundreds. Arkansauce is familiar with Hillberry, having performed at the festival since its inception. A local band from Fayetteville, Arkansas, these four bandmates, now with a complete brass and percussion section, have really put the state of Arkansas on the map as a bluegrass hot spot. The band is scheduled to record a new album in Nashville, Tennessee, in the near future.   Presented by Railroad Earth and Deadhead Productions, the intent behind this five-day annual festival is to provide a warm and welcoming environment for bluegrass music lovers to 'get away from it all' and experience tried and true favorites, as well as newly discovered talent. This year's lineup included such artists as Railroad Earth, Greensky Bluegrass, The Infamous Stringdusters, Yonder Mountain String Band, Arkansauce, Crescent City Combo, The Steppers, Taylor Smith, and many more. (See full lineup here: https://hillberryfestival.com/#lineup ). If roughing it for five days isn't your thing, there are many other ways to experience Hillberry. From basic tent camping to the glamping experience of an RV, a mini home on wheels, some festival goers pick a day or two and choose to stay in historic and romantic Eureka Springs. Some come and go to the festival at their leisure, based on the year's lineup of performances. Each year, there are the fan-favorite familiar vendors, with a sprinkling of new artisans proudly selling their wares, making the festival a prime locale for those who love handmade jewelry, vintage clothing, and everything from leather accessories to custom-made pottery. The festival offers breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with an extensive array of food and beverage trucks to suit every fanciful palate. Many choose to bring their own food and tailgate with friends and family while enjoying the atmospheric backdrop of popular pickin' and grinnin' in the distance. The merchandise tents are always available with each band, artist, or general Hillberry attire. This year's showcase was a large knit throw with the Hillberry insignia and lineup printed on the front. A true work of art, and a valuable keepsake for those cool fall evenings when the music knows no time limit. In addition to shopping, Hillberry offers daily craft workshops, refreshing showers, and a wide array of breakout sessions to cater to the diverse interests of its bluegrass-loving crowd. Deadhead Productions, named after the iconic rock band, The Grateful Dead, shared that the current state of affairs in our society feels heavy. They aim to create a relaxing and entertaining space that fosters solitude and freedom of expression. A place where guests can truly escape the hustle, bustle, and everyday stress of life to enjoy a beautiful natural backdrop accompanied by the soothing sounds of music, along with the fast-paced, melodic, toe-tapping and full-on dancing to the beat of each individual drum.  Plans for a festival of this magnitude are made months in advance. The promoters and management team are already looking forward to the 11th annual Hillberry in October 2026. You can find the lineup and ticket information here: https://hillberryfestival.com/ . Fully describing this yearly fall music festival in the heart of the Ozarks is a monumental task. You must personally experience it to truly appreciate the chill vibe, friendly atmosphere, and enjoyable music performed each year.

There's something deeply satisfying about a life that turns craft into a calling. For songwriter Rick Lang, that's precisely how faith found its shape—through wood, words, and work. Fulfilling a 52-year career in the hardwood lumber business, Lang has spent decades refining two trades that require equal measures of patience and reverence. Whether he's carefully planning Curly Hard Maple or shaping melody, the goal is the same: make something solid, true, and lasting.   Lang didn't come up through the Sunday service or the Nashville circuit. His road to gospel music began far from both, in Exeter, New Hampshire, where he grew up in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He was just a kid who loved the radio, a fan before he was ever a believer.   I remember the first music that resonated with me was listening to the Everly Brothers on the radio," Lang said. "I think my first 45 I picked up was the Everly Brothers' 'Wake Up Little Susie.' Then over time I fell in love with Motown music and soul, and later with the folk scene—Tom Rush, Gordon Lightfoot, Simon & Garfunkel, and Bob Dylan. But when the late sixties came along, the music changed, and I just wasn't feeling it anymore."   For a while, Lang drifted away from music. Then one night in the mid-1980s, he stumbled upon a bluegrass show near home—and his life snapped into focus.   "Bluegrass music was something I didn't know much about or had never heard much about," he said. "I was just blown away by what I heard. The instrumentation and the singing and the harmonies – I'd never heard anything like it, so I started following bluegrass, buying records, learning how to play bluegrass rhythm. The more I listened, the more I loved it."   Soon, he was running a regional bluegrass band, but he found himself drawn to taking pen to paper rather than stepping up to the mic.   "I realized I wasn't really meant to be a singer in a bluegrass band," Lang said. "I was more captivated by the songs. I started studying them, figuring out who wrote them, and discovered writers like Pete Goble and Randall Hylton. I just got the bug. I said, Man, I would love to write songs like this."   He kept at it, writing on his own, with no roadmap and no mentor. Then in 1990, he sent one of his songs—a gospel number called "Listen to the Word of God"—to the Lonesome River Band. He didn't expect to hear back. What he got instead was validation from the highest level.   "Much to my surprise, Lonesome River Band recorded 'Listen to the Word of God.' It was released on their award-winning album Carrying the Tradition , and that was the catalyst. I thought, gosh, if I work hard, maybe I can become a songwriter.   That single cut was the spark, but the true fire of faith came years later. Lang found himself at a personal low point in 2008, and what saved him wasn't a hit or a handout—it was prayer.   "I was struggling at many levels," Lang admitted. "I got in this deep hole I couldn't get out of, and I started praying. I said, Dear Lord, if you can pull me out of this hole I'm in, and help bring me back to the good place I was before, I'll commit the rest of my life to serving you and writing songs of praise."   From that promise came Look to the Light,  Lang's first all-original gospel project. It served as a personal journal in song form, filled with redemption and gratitude. Thus began his long collaboration with producer and songwriter Jerry Salley, who helped turn Lang's quietly powerful writing into recordings that found an audience for his heartfelt compositions.   "That was my redemption," Lang said. "That changed my whole life—writing gospel songs and living a life of gratitude. That was it right there."   The success of Look to the Light led to another project with Salley, Gonna Sing, Gonna Shout,  which became an award-winning release on Billy Blue Records. Featuring a who 's-who of bluegrass voices—Claire Lynch, The Whites, Marty Raybon, and Bradley Walker among them—the album hit #1 twice, won an IBMA Award, and earned Lang his first Grammy nomination. But it also gave him a new phrase for what he was creating.   "It was during that experience I realized we had created something a bit different, our own unique spin on Gospel music," Lang said. "We deemed it 'Blue Collar Gospel.' It represents a particular style of gospel songs about ordinary people and their faith—about everyday hard-working folks, their struggles, failures, triumphs, and relationship with God."   Lang saw that his writing could reach beyond the church walls—songs that hid their sermons in real life, that preached through empathy more than instruction. His lyrics felt like conversations with neighbors, not proclamations from pulpits.   When the pandemic hit and the world shut down, Lang refused to stop creating. Instead, he turned to technology and faith.   "I had never done any remote writing by FaceTime, Skype, or Zoom, but I decided to give it a shot," he said. "Before I knew it, I was writing every day of the week. By the time the pandemic was over, I had built a catalog of dozens of brand new gospel songs that would become the foundation for our Blue Collar Gospel project."   Released in 2024, the Blue Collar Gospel album celebrates everyday believers, sung by a diverse lineup that includes more female voices than his previous releases. Finding grace in the small details of life seems to be a recurring theme in this collection,  whether in work, family, or quiet moments of faith.   As for Lang's songwriting process, it begins before sunrise. Each morning, he and his wife Wendy take a long walk, and that's where most of his songs are born.   "When I'm out walking, I pray and I ask God to send these song ideas," he said, "and every time, I come home with a new song idea or two.  They appear out of nowhere. I keep my mind open, and I just feel like I'm an empty vessel with all the ideas of the universe just flowing through me. It controls me, and I don't control it."   That surrender—trusting that inspiration is a divine gift—is what guides him now. Lang doesn't see himself as a performer or even a writer in the traditional sense. He sees himself as a messenger, a conduit for something higher.   "I truly believe that writing gospel music is my calling, the Good Lord's plan for me," he said. "I've been told that spreading God's Holy Word through my songwriting and music is a form of ministry. I believe that to be true. It is my hope that each song touches the heart, stirs the soul, and brings others closer to their faith."   Through Blue Collar Gospel, Lang found the sweet spot where faith meets real life—a sound that's humble, human, and full of light. "There are people who have faith in their lives, but they don't formalize it by going to church," he explains. "Even people who don't go to church, when they need God's help, they pray and reach out. I wanted to write songs not only for true believers but for people who could use faith in their lives—songs about everyday experiences where faith interweaves with people's lives."   Those stories—of fishermen, factory men, and quiet redemption—remind listeners that spirituality doesn't have to sound solemn. Sometimes it sounds like a laugh in the middle of hard work, or like music on the radio just when you need it most.   "If you want to be a real good Christian and follower, live your faith. Don't just talk about it. Live it. Live your faith every day."   His songs do exactly that—living, breathing proof of a life rebuilt through grace and work. Each lyric feels hand-carved, worn smooth by prayer and perseverance. And just like his lumberyard days, the quality is in the grain: strong, honest, and built to last.   SIDEBAR: What's Next for Rick Lang   After releasing Blue Collar Gospel on Billy Blue Records, Lang continues to write every day, often collaborating remotely with Nashville's top songwriters. He's now working on his first non-gospel studio album for Billy Blue, once again produced by GRAMMY Award-winning producer Jerry Salley.   "I'm not doing any of this for me," Lang said. "Everything I'm doing is to serve God and to serve others."   And as dawn breaks over the treetops, Rick Lang will take his daily walk, open his heart, and wait for the next song to arrive.

High River has always been comprised of a group of friends who get together to play bluegrass music. The band got its beginning in 2022 when the Campbellton Bluegrass Festival in New Brunswick, southeastern Canada, needed a band to fill a last-minute spot. “I made a few calls to some jamming buddies, and just like that — High River was born,” says Jason Guimond, who plays banjo and vocals for the band. The ad hoc band sounded great, and they were well received by the audience. “We had so much fun that weekend, we decided to keep it going.”  The band is made up of Jason, along with Thomas Leblanc on guitar and vocals, Marcel Allain on bass and vocals, Marc Landry on dobro, guitar, and vocals, and Lawrence Martin on mandolin and vocals.  The playing part came easily to the band members. The next step was to brand themselves with a name for the band. “The name High River just felt right for our sound and where we come from. It’s got that natural, rolling feel to it — kind of like our music. There’s no one story behind it, but it’s grown to represent the flow and drive we bring to bluegrass.” While the band members all have day jobs, bluegrass is a huge part of their lives. “We spend a lot of our free time rehearsing, recording, or out on the road playing festivals,” says Jason. “It’s definitely more than just a hobby for us.” Perhaps it’s because of the location near the northern foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Whatever the reason, the bluegrass scene is very active in New Brunswick. “You’ll rarely see a weekend where there isn’t a jam going on in someone’s house,” Jason says. “It’s a close-knit scene full of people who just love the music. We split our time pretty evenly between festivals and a certain lounge we’d like to plug — Le Paysan in Saint-Antoine, New Brunswick. It’s become a great spot for live bluegrass and good company.” High River has been described as “embodying the spirit of bluegrass while pushing boundaries and exploring new musical territories,” with a nod to traditional bluegrass music with a modern twist. “That’s a nice way to put it,” says Jason. “We all love traditional, hard-driving bluegrass bands like Lonesome River Band, Blue Highway, and Dan Tyminski are big influences — and we’ve also been shaped by where we come from. We all grew up around kitchen parties where the music never really stopped, and we’ve been inspired by local musicians who’ve kept the music alive here in the Maritimes. We like songs that tell honest stories, whether they’re originals or covers, but we don’t mind putting our own spin on things.” Most of the songs High River plays are covers. “They are the songs we love and enjoy putting our own touch on,” states Jason. “That said, we have another recording project coming up in the near future, and we plan on releasing a couple of originals of our own.” Their first record, a self-titled LP, dropped on September 5. “We’re really proud of it. It’s a mix of original songs and some of our favorite covers, recorded with that traditional bluegrass drive we love. We wanted it to capture the energy of our live shows. We hope people feel something real when they hear our songs. Whether it’s joy, heartache, or just the urge to tap their foot — as long as it connects with them, that’s what matters.” Since that unplanned beginning back in 2022, the band has grown tighter musically and closer as friends. “The more we play together, the more natural it feels. Everyone’s found their spot in the band, and our sound has really come into its own.” Jason says for now they plan to keep the momentum going — playing more shows, writing new songs, and hopefully getting back in the studio before long. “We’ve had a great response to the album, and we’re excited to see where the road takes us next.”

They began gathering under a water tower in Portland, Oregon, high school kids who were into punk. Twenty years later, after busking bluegrass at freeway off-ramps, overcoming addiction, and navigating Los Angeles' vibrant music scene, the band Water Tower is connecting with audiences of all ages through electrifying performances.   Last summer, the band played the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. It became the first bluegrass band to play the Vans Warped Tour, one of the largest events in the punk music world.   "We did Telluride and we did the Vans Warped Tour in the same week, so it was a career highlight," says co-founder, fiddler, guitarist, and singer Kenny Feinstein. "There's no higher you can go in the punk scene, and the same with bluegrass. They're both at the very top. It's pretty crazy for some punk rock bluegrassers from the freeway off-ramp."   Though the band has punk roots, bluegrass is in its blood, from the traditional songs included in the setlist to the dark suits and bolo ties they wear on stage. One of their earliest influences was an acoustic string band that they instantly related to.   "The thing that turned us over was seeing Foghorn Stringband at a square dance, and they had this kind of punk rock energy in their fiddle tune playing. We just really dug that," Feinstein explains.   The band literally took to the streets to learn bluegrass after moving to Los Angeles and busking at freeway off-ramps.   "That's how we paid the rent for the last ten to fifteen years," says Feinstein. "It was a way that we could rehearse and have shows every day and connect with fans, and also polish the fiddle tunes and polish the music. It's a great way to test out 30-second clips on people, and just learn how to perform and be humble and really live in gratitude."   The freeway busking also helped Water Tower learn to connect with people of all ages and backgrounds. Whether they're covering a song by Blink-182 or playing a traditional breakdown, there's something for everyone.   "A lot of people say we've got the tradition of bluegrass, the attitude of punk rock, and the culture of hip-hop," says Feinstein.   He also says there was a fundamental benefit to the busking.   "Playing at the freeway off-ramps helped us kind of find our sobriety again, so sobriety is a big part of what we write about in our music."   Water Tower's focus is larger than addiction and sobriety and goes beyond the members of the band. Foremost, they say, is the welfare of the community that follows them. They're called "owls."   "The owls are atop the water tower to make sure that no adulterants get added to the water supply," says Feinstein. "Owls are wise, and they watch over the group and make sure everybody is safe, and that's what our fans are. It's a community where we look after each other. It's not a fan base. It's an actual friendship group and a place to keep people safe. We want to contribute to the lessening of suffering, and we want everyone to be included in our music.   Water Tower is for the people."   The band usually performs with five core members, but old friends, former members, and audience members are often called up to the stage during energetic, improvised sets. One of Water Tower's unique characteristics is the use of two banjos in the band, which Feinstein says is kind of a punk rock thing.   "I always hear people saying that two banjos might be too many for the jam or whatever. Well, two of my best friends are the best banjo players I know, and I want them to play banjo in the band because their talents are so amazing. They have such different styles that they complement each other. Jessie Blue Eads is kind of a crazy prodigy. And Tommy Drinkard is more of a classic chainsaw Earl Scruggs player. Mixing them together is beautiful. Of course, it offends people when they see it, but once they hear the different styles, people fall in love with it."   Two banjos might be the least of the surprises at a Water Tower show.   "Our genre is punk rock bluegrass--not bluegrass punk rock. We do bluegrass traditionally with a punk rock attitude, so the order is important," says Feinstein, who also runs a marketing agency. "I'll do a Snoop Dogg rap, and we will do punk rock songs, and so moving from Bill Monroe to Tupac is a jarring change for certain people. Plus, we dance, and the show is never very planned out, so crazy stuff could happen."   In early 2026, Water Tower will continue to introduce bluegrass to new audiences when it opens for Nick Hexum, the lead vocalist for the multi-platinum alternative rock band 311. But Feinstein says the band will still work the off-ramps.   "We used to go out seven days a week, sometimes four to seven hours a day, just to make ends meet. But now we're lucky if we'll get out there a couple of times a month. People are receptive. They're grateful that we're bringing music to them in traffic. They're super stoked on it, generally."

After a six-year hiatus, The Unfaithful Servants has released Fallen Angels , the sophomore album from the Americana band. Their new record is lovingly crafted by a quartet consisting of Jesse Cobb (mandolin), Singer-songwriter Dylan Stone, Quin Etheridge-Pedden (fiddle) and bassist Mark Johnson. Hailing from Vancouver Island in British Columbia, the band was described as “Canada’s most exciting Newgrass band”   after their performance at California’s Seaside Music Festival and has been nominated for a Canadian Folk Music Award. When asked what sets The Unfaithful Servants apart from other bands in Canada, Jesse Cobb is happy to explain what makes his band unique, stressing the members’ combined instrumental prowess, love of tight three-part harmonies from the bluegrass genre, and the shared commitment to making each song “as epic and memorable as possible.” Jesse said that the band grew out of “a chance meeting at a local jam.” Soon after moving to Victoria, British Columbia, Jesse met Dylan Stone, who complimented his mandolin playing. As the two men began to play together in small local venues, Miriam Sonstenes and Dennis Siemens joined them. It was Stone who christened the band The Unfaithful Servants, after a song by the late Canadian musician Robbie Robertson. Influences on the band’s sound include Robertson’s own group, The Band, as well as modern instrumental music, newgrass revival, and old-school country. “The old-time way of folks just sitting down and coming up with music as a pastime has been the driving factor of the old-time influence,” Jesse explained. “When someone brings a song, much like learning old-time tunes, we may sit and play the song for hours, getting to know the melody and catching the right feel.” As one learns more about The Unfaithful Servants and their dedication to storytelling and emotional substance, the fact of the six-year gap between the two albums is no longer a surprise. Both the careful curation of their material and their thoughtful craftsmanship have ensured that Fallen Angel is more than worth the long wait. Grammy recipient Steve Smith produced the band’s first album in 2019. Despite the catastrophic hard freeze and the COVID-19 pandemic imposed on the music world, The Unfaithful Servants survived both the fluctuations of the post-pandemic concert scene and changes in band membership. The six years it took to rebuild the band “after the Covid times” and the additions of Mark Johnson and Quin Etheridge-Pedden brought revitalizing “capabilities, tools, and ideas,” Jesse said. Their songwriting has grown in depth and honesty. “I believe the songs on Fallen Angel have come from pushing to record material that can be engaging instrumentally, while surrounding and supporting lyrics that are personal and raw,” Jesse said, further adding that the rhythmic ideas and lead lines from Johnson and Etheridge-Pedden have moved the band into exciting new territory. Last September, when the band announced their first single, “Fallen Angel,” they expressed their excitement in an Instagram post about journeying into the world of bluegrass music. They described their sophomore album as carrying “the sound of the old world into a new light.” It is an unusual but apt description of all that The Unfaithful Servants offers in their new album. Their lyrical musings on mortality and the best and worst of human interactions today, the mournfulness in some songs serves to make the buoyant joy of their music all the brighter for the contrast. Leading up to the album’s release in October, the band’s social media followers were treated to waterfront views of Canada’s many lakes and islands, evocative promotional photographs taken with a tintype camera, and more casual photos of band members with their dogs and a fierce-looking rooster. The band is eagerly awaiting their upcoming tour stops, where they will play alongside Canadian folk singer Shari Ulrich, whom Jesse describes as “an icon.” It is a long way from Vancouver Island, in the westernmost province of Canada, to the most popular American music destinations, such as Nashville. The band’s enthusiasm appears to override any nervousness about their future and the very long journeys ahead. “We are excited to begin some touring in the US in the coming years,” Jesse said. “As a Canadian acoustic band, we are in a smaller niche community that exists in a more consistent, larger way in the States.” “Negativity” is one of the last tracks on Fallen Angel , and one of the most deceptively simple. Without using clinical words such as depression or rumination, the lyrics accurately describe the destructive cycle of self-doubt. “All this negativity has defeated you and me for the last time,” Stone’s plaintive voice rings out: “I hope before you die you realize you’ve been on the wrong track.” By the time the listener finishes the album and has basked in the “new light” of its memorable songs, they have heard enough to know that The Unfaithful Servants is without question on the right track.