Along with a recent engagement to her guitarist and producer Eric Julio Carranza, St. Paul, Minn., singer-songwriter Molly Brandt shares that she and Carranza—who work famously together—have a few treats in store for their fans. For those just getting familiar with Brandt’s music, she has come a long way from writing her first songs during the COVID-19 lockdown. Since then, she has released thirteen singles and two albums, including the critically acclaimed American Saga . Taking home the American Artist of the Year Award twice at the Midwest Country Music Awards (2023–2024), Brandt swears that she never had lofty goals of “making it”—but making it she is—and that includes new music. “I think not putting pressure on myself helped when I started writing songs. Knowing that your first few songs are gonna be [rough] was helpful,” recalls Brandt. As it turned out, her first few songs not only led to her debut release, 2023’s Surrender to the Night , but also spurred a music career. “I’m working on recording another album right now, which will be called Museum of Being ,” shares the Twin City artist. “I’m taking a break in December and January to finish this record and hopefully release it in early to mid-2026.” The new album will be recorded in the couple’s home studio. “It’s not like one of the fancy studios,” explains Brandt, who is psyched about recording from the comfort of their home. “It’s working out really well so far. We are getting really good sounds out of it.” Now that the couple plans to tie the knot, Brandt says it won’t change how she and Carranza work together. “We already feel like we are married [laughs]. We work really well together. It’s been really great having a collaborator like Eric.” Carranza is helping to push musical boundaries. “He comes from a background of many different genres and styles, which include jazz, R&B, and rock 'n' roll. With our last album, American Saga , we brought in a lot more synthy sounds and gritty guitar tones.” She adds, “We’re working on having some different grooves and maybe some more electronic elements coupled with my Americana/country style.” Some music ideas don’t always work, shares Brandt. “If he shows me something that I’m not vibing with,” explains Brandt about the rare disagreement, “that’s okay—there’s lots of other avenues we can go down. I really trust his artistic instincts.” The album and title song, " Museum of Being ," came out of nowhere. “We were trying to come up with a name for our studio. I think the name " Museum of Being"  just popped into my head, which is not usually how things work with me.” An ardent reader, Brandt might have found the inspiration in a book. “I got a library card about a year ago. I’ve been reading about the history of libraries and getting interested in the Library of Alexandria. So, I was utilizing what I have read for [' Museum of Being' ].” “What the song means to me is a wide-encompassing term,” shares the songwriter. “We are all libraries of existence—all our past experiences are collections of knowledge and artifacts.” She relies more on observation as a songwriter and says the new album will differ from her previous records. “I’m using a lot of inspiration from current events, my own neighborhood and environment, as well as the books I read.” Besides building her solo career, she and Carranza plan to launch a new band. “We’re starting a new band with a songwriter, Jacob Mullis, and his wife, Amy Hager. We are naming it Brandt, Hager, Mullis & Carranza—which is kind of like Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.” The award-winning singer-songwriter shares that they have already begun working together. “We’ve been writing and recording songs together. We have some songs mastered and just did some photos together.” “Songwriting is new to me, and I feel like it’s sort of a vulnerable process,” shares Brandt about her insecurity as a songwriter. “So doing it with others requires a bit of bravery. I feel like working with Hager and Mullis has been helpful.” Brandt is looking forward to staying creative as an artist. “I’m really into pop music lately, especially girl pop music like Chappell Roan, Charli XCX. There are no rules—I want to write a pop song next—let’s go!”

“I grew up in Union, South Carolina,” she recalled, “and the first banjo I got, I was about nine. We’d only had it a month or two, and our house burned down.”   It’s the kind of memory that could have ended a childhood dream, but for Kristin Scott Benson, it simply began another story.   “The first thing that I remember well — you know, small towns can be so special. I remember how sweet the town was to us when it happened. I remember going back to school, and all these kids were bringing clothes and shoes and coats and everything, so it was that immediate, we had nothing except what we had on when we left, which was in the middle of the night.”   When you talk with Benson, she sounds exactly like the kind of person you hope a world-class musician would be: humble, thoughtful, and quietly grateful for the life she’s built around the banjo. She’s a seven-time IBMA Banjo Player of the Year, a recipient of the Steve Martin Prize for Excellence in Banjo and Bluegrass, and a 2024 inductee into the American Banjo Hall of Fame. But none of that has changed how she speaks — with honesty and warmth, grounded in her work and her faith. She’s a lightning-quick picker who’s a teacher at heart; Benson holds herself with the calm and grace of a legend who shrugs at high praise while also embracing gratitude.   It’s also that sense of kindness she experienced after the fire — people showing up when you need them most — that may reveal the reason she’s spent so much of her life giving back through teaching, passing on what she’s learned with the same generosity she once received.   “I probably played the first song on the banjo maybe two or three months after I started. And by six months, I was ready to play in jam sessions and that sort of thing. I was about 13 when I got a full-size real banjo and started playing. Once I started playing the banjo, I just became obsessed.”   Her obsession became a lifelong career. In an industry that has historically underrepresented women in instrumental roles, Benson has more than earned her place alongside today’s most outstanding performers of bluegrass. Her technical mastery rivals anyone holding a five-string today — male or female — and her command of tone and timing has become a benchmark for aspiring players. She has shattered stereotypes not by talking about them, but by playing circles around them. Additionally, she’s one of the most respected teachers in bluegrass, known for her patience, her encouragement, and her ability to meet each student where they are.   “If I’m home for the full length, I teach Monday through Thursday, anywhere 15 to 20 hours a week,” said Benson of her typical teaching time. “However, with the scheduling and the follow up work, if you teach 20 hours a week, you’re probably spending 25 hours a week on it. But that has become special to me because like any other job, you get better at it. And most people burn out teaching. They can’t sustain that for years and years. The way I’ve sustained it is by caring about these people. You want them to progress and do well, so you care about the person and then suddenly it’s a labor of love instead of just a labor.”   It’s a simple philosophy, but one that explains her endurance. She doesn’t see teaching as routine or transactional; it’s relational. Every student becomes a story, every lesson a small act of faith in someone’s potential. Conversely, everyone has a challenge to overcome, and the love of the craft has to emerge for the talent to surface.   “For my adult students, it tends to be memory,” said Benson of the common issues that arise in instruction. “That’s the toughest part. For the kids, it really just depends on them. If they’re really motivated, they can just soar right away. And I’ve had some who have done that. They’re phenomenal musicians and they’re gonna set the world on fire as they continue to age and get better. But I just say to mom and dad, can you make yourself love something? Even if the kid would like to love it, that would make their parents happy, but maybe they don’t love it. You have to trust that we can’t make  ourselves love something, or dislike something we love, so you just trust that instinct. What is the desire of their heart? Just put the energy behind that.”   As the longtime banjo player for The Grascals — one of the most awarded and beloved bands in modern bluegrass — Benson has been a cornerstone of the group’s sound since 2008. Her crisp rolls, impeccable timing, and emotional restraint define much of the band’s signature style, anchoring the music with a sense of purpose and joy. In a band filled with powerhouse players, she’s never simply “the female banjo player.” She’s the banjo player — and many of her peers would say, one of the finest working today. As for band fatigue, she said that one can start to play on autopilot if you’re not the type that improvises every night and changes the set list daily, so on those few occasions, she can reset with good old band shenanigans.   “Our set list is relatively the same with a few changes over time, but I think the elements that I respond to, the camaraderie with the guys in the band personally, that can be fun every night, because it’s different every night. Somebody messed up, and you can get a rise out of that, and take great enjoyment in their failure (laughs). That kind of fun stuff that goes on in bands where we give each other a hard time, that stuff helps it stay fresh.”   Her humor is as sharp as her timing, keeping her grounded through the endless repetition of touring life. Even in routine, she finds community.   “I’m incredibly grateful for those awards. They’re a mystery to me. They truly are a mystery to me. But I’m grateful and will very humbly give the credit to, I’m a Christian. I just really thank the Lord for those kinds of blessings in my life. But ultimately, it’s just about playing the banjo, and I am so blessed that Wayne is my husband, and we’re professional musicians. We have steady work. There’s always a steady stream of what’s next.”   That partnership has extended far beyond marriage — it’s a musical collaboration of equals. Kristin and Wayne’s acclaimed duo album Pick Your Poison  showcased their intricate interplay and shared musical intuition. Their chemistry on that record, as well as on stage, reflects both their technical precision and their deep personal connection.   “I taught lessons today,” Benson revealed. “As soon as you and I hang up I’m proofreading tabs for a book that I co-wrote with Bill Evans called 25 Great Bluegrass Banjo Solos . It’s amazing, and I think that each player gets 25 players, 25 solos, and they get about 2,500 words a piece. So this was a big endeavor that’s finally about to come out.”   Even when she’s home, she’s creating, writing and editing, but gratitude keeps her from feeling jaded, as does the look in a student’s eye when they really just want to play. She knows that look better than anyone, but more as a player than a teacher.   “Honestly, I can say this, and I’ve said it before, that I’ve never picked up the banjo and not wanted to play it. I’ve certainly not wanted to get in the car and drive all night to meet the band at four in the morning. I’ve certainly wanted to be home more or wanted to be gone more, in some stages of life. All of those things ebb and flow, but I’ve never in my life picked up the banjo and not wanted to play it.”   Her voice softens when she talks about her older students — people learning music for the joy of it, not the spotlight. For Kristin, that’s where the meaning lives: not trophies or accolades, but in the connection between players, and between player and instrument.   “The kids are special to me even at the camps I teach. I think after you become a mom, that’s just how the world works for you. You see kids with a totally different lens. But I just think they’re so precious, and when you get a kid who’s interested in banjo, there’s automatically a kinship there because it’s not a popular thing to be interested in. Also, I have a heart for the very young and the very old. I’ve had students who started playing banjo in their sixties and seventies. And I love that too, because first of all, neurologically, it’s incredibly healthy. It’s like learning a language. So rather than deciding that you’re gonna start learning German to stay sharp or doing the New York Times crossword puzzle, you can play an instrument.”   As for her legacy in this bluegrass world, Benson is, as expected, much more modest than a player as talented as she should be.   “I know where I stand musically, and I’m not the kind of generational player that’s gonna stamp the instrument indelibly, like Bela Fleck or Earl Scruggs,” she said. “I think the most important legacy I guess you would say that I might have is how I’ve been able to pour that into students, because if they can play the banjo and enjoy it, and I have a part in it that’s pretty special: just affecting people’s lives by enabling them to play this instrument that I love so much.”

Crooked Still, Punch Brothers, and Hawktail fiddle player Brittany Haas continues to push creative boundaries. Her latest is pairing with Dallas/Fort Worth native guitarist and composer Ben Garnett on his new album Kite’s Keep . Haas, who appeared on Garnett’s debut album Imitation Fields , says the pair have agreed to form a trio. “We just kind of developed a friendship,” Haas points out. “There is that moment where we thought, Shouldn’t we also play together professionally ?” She said she really liked Garnett's music and thinks it’s super creative and beautiful! "It has a lot of space in it for me to grow and also to be showcased as a fiddle player." He wanted to do something a little bit different than his first album, Haas explains. She was among the studio musicians who played on Garnett’s 2023 release. “He was thinking more along the lines of a steady band. He was starting to conceive of the idea of touring as a trio, with fiddle and bass—which is an instrumentation that I am very used to from my time in Hawktail.” Haas says that Kite’s Keep  is a mix of charts and improvisation. “Some of it was prescribed by Garnett, such as a melody part; then there are a lot of open solo sections as well,” Haas describes about her fiddle lines. “He has the form all figured out, and then he’s like, ‘Now you take a fiddle solo.’ … That’s a cool thing about his musicianship. He wants to capture a moment and for the musician to be themselves.” The songs on the album were rehearsed in front of audiences before going into the studio. “We would play some local gigs to test some stuff out,” recounts Haas. Kite’s Keep  provided another opportunity to work with an old pal and mentor, Darol Anger. “He’s my hero! I met him when I was ten years old,” remembers Haas, who plays a fiddle duet with Anger on Kite’s Keep . “Anger was around California at the time, and that is where I grew up—so I got to see him play.” Anger asked then fourteen-year-old Haas to join his band, Republic of Strings. “That was a quartet with the great bluegrass guitar player Scott Nygaard and Rushad Eggleston, who was also in Crooked Still. It was my first professional opportunity,” recalls Haas. “Getting to play twin fiddles with him was a really cool way to learn!” Turning her attention to another close friend, Haas says it was Bruce Molsky that made her want to become a fiddle player. “I was pretty obsessed with his music and learned so much from listening and being around him,” recalls Haas, who saw Molsky for the first time while attending a fiddle camp in the Santa Cruz Mountains. “We are going to play a show together at Wintergrass Festival this coming February. He is such an incredibly deep musician with a beautiful ethos around traditional music.” Haas shares that she and her sister, cellist Natalie Haas, will be recording their second album. “We’ve done a couple of gigs this summer where we were trying out new material we’ve been writing over the last year.” Although Natalie lives in Spain, most of her shows are in the U.S. “We just try to tack on a few days to work on music. We are going to record in early January.” Winner of the 2025 Eisenson Family Prize for American Roots Music, Haas says the fiddle has been a lifelong companion. “I would say it is one of the things that shaped my life the most. It brought me to so many cool places and communities. I like the fact that we are all the same—we all have the same desires and needs, and music is such a great way to connect with people." She said it is also how much of a bond it creates. "You can go halfway across the world and meet another fiddle player and sit down and play a tune. That feels so good!” Haas is featured on countless albums and describes herself as a team player. “I love being supportive; I love being part of a band. I like to make everyone else sound as good as they can. That is the fun part about it for me!”

Happy 2026!  This year marked the latest in an unbroken string of midnight countdowns that I wasn’t invited to perform on “Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve With Ryan Seacrest.” I was in good company, though, since not many Bluegrass entertainers were featured on TV specials welcoming the New Year. But maybe that’s because a good number of pickers and fans were just hours away from kicking off the first festivals of 2026. Before most of us had finished our first helping of black-eyed peas, the Jekyll Island New Year’s Bluegrass Festival was set to open at noon. Georgia’s Sea Isles hosted three days of top performers “where the ancient tones of the mountains meet the gentle roar of the emerald sea.” A highlight on that schedule was a salute to the Stanley Brothers, with Ralph Stanley II and the Clinch Mountain Boys and a slew of special guests. Clear across the continent, more music echoed from the Wig Wam Resort in Phoenix, Arizona. Del McCoury and Jerry Douglas hosted their “Picking Party” from Jan. 2-5, featuring more all-star performances, master classes, and workshops. If you’re hosting a festival that includes a songwriting workshop, we’d like to help promote it in this column of The Bluegrass Standard . Please send the information—including dates and writing workshop leaders—two months in advance of the event to DavidHaleyLauver@gmail.com .   SPBGMA Writers Workshop Scheduled Jan. 23 Looking ahead, the Society for the Preservation of Bluegrass Music in America (SPBGMA) will hold its 51 st  national convention and awards show Jan. 22-25 at the Sheraton Music City Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. SPBGMA is an extended family reunion, part Bluegrass equivalent of Nashville’s storied Fan Fair and part concert venue and awards stage. There may be more January jamming per square foot than any place else on earth. The event’s Songwriter Workshop will be held from noon to 2 p.m. on Friday, Jan. 23. Returning workshop leaders are Johnny and Jeanette Williams, award-winning writers and performers who, with Jay Shelton, perform as “Shelton and Williams.” Joining this year’s workshop panel are Kristen Bearfield, hit writer, solo artist and member of the band “High Road”; and Thomm Jutz, IBMA’s 2021 Songwriter of the Year producer, and past Grammy nominee for Best Bluegrass Album. For more information, go to spbgma.com . Big Times at the “Little House” The “Little House” Songwriting Workshop in Lebanon, Tennessee, has earned a reputation for helping aspiring writers reach the “next level” of success. For 2026, organizers have scheduled the initial sessions and made plans to take the workshop on the road. You can find more information, including tuition and registration, at littlehousesongwritingworkshop.com . The Little House Workshop is led by Jerry Salley, Donna Ulisse, and Rick Stanley—award-winning writers, recording artists and producers. Their intensive two-day sessions help newer writers expand their creativity and understanding of how to be a better songwriter. These workshops are limited to four aspiring writers each month. Each day, two-person teams are paired with a pro writer to co-write a song or two. Then there’s an opportunity to perform at a pickin’ party that includes other artists, publishers, label execs and broadcasters. And there’s great home cooking from Donna and Rick’s farm kitchen, along with delicious desserts brought by Erin Salley. While cuts aren’t guaranteed, several Little House songs have been recorded by Bluegrass and Gospel artists. These include "Bacon In My Beans" by Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers; “Lie To Me” by Jaelee Roberts; “Dancing With The Stars” by Valerie Smith; “Yesterday’s Heartache” and “Front Porch of Paradise” by Kristy Cox, “Flowers and Lace” by The Grascals; and “Heart of Rosine” by Donna Ulisse.   I’ve been fortunate to be a co-writer on several songs that have gone from the Little House to the radio. Those include “Jezebel,” my first co-write (with Donna and writer/artist Ali Shumate) to reach #1 on the charts.  And the songs that aren’t cut? For Little House alumni, they’ll be on our own recordings and on our set lists for the rest of our lives. Songwriting workshops are back at the Little House on March 25-26, April15-16, and May 12-13. But if you can’t travel to the farm in Lebanon, there will be three larger group workshops outside Middle Tennessee. Workshop leaders will critique one song that each participant brings and give feedback on songs co-written at the events by small teams of aspiring writers. The first “Little House on the Road” session is set for Feb. 27-March 1 in the Historic Gatlinburg (Tennessee) Inn, where Felice and Boudleaux Bryant wrote “Rocky Top.” The next workshop, July 23-25 at Strawberry Point, Iowa, is an extension of the Strawberry Jam Camp ( strawberryjamcamp.com .)   The Palmetto State is the site of an August 28-30 group workshop, hosted by the South Carolina Bluegrass and Traditional Music Association at Bills Pickin' Parlor in Columbia ( scbtma.com ).

From the Blue Ridge ridgelines to the Ohio Valley and the eastern Kentucky hollers, Appalachia’s brewing scene pours history, place, and personality into every pint. The region’s mix of deep-rooted tradition and creative independence shows up in its beer, its breweries, and its people. These eight breweries illustrate how craft beer in Appalachia is rooted in land, labor, and local storytelling — each one offering a glimpse into how communities across these mountains celebrate where they’re from. Blue Mountain Brewery — Afton, Virginia Perched in the shadow of the Blue Ridge, Blue Mountain is a true farm brewery — a place where beer is grown as much as it’s brewed. The brewery cultivates its own hops on-site, creating a rare full-circle experience that few operations can match. Its barrel-aging program, centered on flagship stouts like Dark Hollow, reinforces the sense that patience and place are central to what they do. The tasting room looks out over rows of hop trellises and working farmland, giving visitors a literal window into the source of their pint. The beer list balances easy sippers, like a crisp Kölsch-style lager, with more complex barrel-aged statements that show off the brewery’s farm-to-glass philosophy. If you want mountain views with your pint — and a brewery that lives its values in every pour — this is the stop. Appalachian Mountain Brewery — Boone, North Carolina In Boone’s High Country, Appalachian Mountain Brewery has grown into a true community anchor. Known affectionately as AMB, it serves as both a local hangout and a showcase for regional flavor. Core beers like Boone Creek Blonde and Long Leaf IPA lean into a sense of place, highlighting the natural character of the area and the pride locals feel for their mountain home. But beyond what’s in the glass, the brewery is active in community partnerships and conservation work, reflecting the civic spirit that runs through so many Appalachian towns. For travelers, the taproom feels like a post-adventure refuge — the kind of place where hikers, students, and families gather after a day on the trail to swap stories over a pint. Bad Shepherd Beer Company — Charleston, West Virginia Bad Shepherd brings an experimental energy to Charleston’s downtown that blends traditional craftsmanship with playful curiosity. Its lineup ranges from clean, crisp German-style lagers to the bold barrel-aged and sour beers in its “Sour Holler” series — a fitting nod to both the region’s landscape and the brewery’s fearless creativity. The taproom, filled with reclaimed wood and industrial accents, mirrors that balance of refinement and rough edges. The result is a space — and a set of beers — that feel approachable but still adventurous. For visitors to West Virginia’s capital city, Bad Shepherd offers a taste of what happens when heritage and innovation meet. Weathered Ground Brewery — Cool Ridge, West Virginia Built on southern West Virginia farmland, Weathered Ground Brewery feels like the heart of its community. Every part of its operation leans into local sourcing, family-scale hospitality, and a steady commitment to craft. Beers like Cool Ridge Lager and a rotating lineup of small-batch ales showcase a sense of honesty and place — nothing flashy, just quality and care. The barn-like taproom, often alive with live old-time or bluegrass music, completes the experience. It’s one of those rare spots where you can sip a pint, listen to a fiddle tune, and feel entirely at home. Parkersburg Brewing Company — Parkersburg, West Virginia Parkersburg Brewing connects the dots between Appalachia’s brewing past and present. The company traces its roots to the Hebrank & Rapp Brewery, established in 1864, and has proudly revived that heritage while thriving in the modern craft scene. The brewery’s Cell Block 304 earned gold at the 2018 World Beer Cup, cementing its reputation for quality on an international stage. Inside its restored downtown taproom, historic character meets contemporary craft, and visitors get a sense of how Parkersburg’s identity — once industrial, now entrepreneurial — continues to evolve through beer. AleWerks — Williamsburg, Virginia Alewerks bridges history and innovation with ease. Operating a traditional Peter Austin brew house, the brewery leans on older English systems that lend a timeless quality to its process. Core beers like Tavern Brown Ale and Chesapeake Pale Ale reflect that same balance of heritage and drinkability. Though technically located in the lower Appalachian foothills and Tidewater transition area, Alewerks’ approach makes it a meaningful inclusion here. Its use of classic equipment and its emphasis on honoring brewing’s historical roots show how Appalachian influence extends beyond steep slopes into foothill and lowland communities — where craftsmanship and respect for tradition still guide the work. Dueling Barrels Brewery & Distillery — Pikeville, Kentucky Dueling Barrels stands out as both brewery and distillery, giving visitors a fuller picture of Appalachian spirits — literally and figuratively. Located in downtown Pikeville, it tells the story of eastern Kentucky through its dual craft operations, offering beer and house-distilled spirits under the same roof. The venue embraces local heritage, from its nods to moonshine history to live music and community gatherings. Its beers, such as Pikeville Ale and Hopfield and McCoy IPA, are approachable, flavorful, and deeply tied to their place of origin. Together with its distilled offerings, Dueling Barrels presents a well-rounded taste of Appalachian craft culture in one stop. A last pour: why these stops matter These breweries weren’t chosen for trendiness or size alone; they stand out because each connects production to place — through local ingredients, historical revival, community investment, or an enduring link to mountain culture. Across Appalachia’s 423 counties, breweries like these function as small but mighty economic engines, gathering spaces, and cultural ambassadors. They create jobs, host events, and foster pride, but they also do something quieter and more meaningful: they tell the story of a region through flavor. Drink a pint at any of these stops, and you don’t just taste great beer — you taste the land, the labor, and the lineage of Appalachia itself.

For a 20-year-old, old-time banjoist, Nora Brown already has quite the resume.   She’s toured the United States, Japan, and Europe. She’s recorded four albums. She’s appeared at the Newport Folk Festival, on NPR’s All Songs Considered , and has performed on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert . Twice.   Oh, and she’s a full-time college student, where, among other things, she’s an American Studies major and leads a Slavic choir.   “It's a little bit difficult to coordinate, but I mostly play shows when I have breaks,” Brown explains. “I'm not a working musician at this point in my life. Over the summer and on my break is when I'm really working and doing music stuff. There are conflicts that can be tricky to figure out.”   The Brooklyn neighborhood of Crown Heights isn’t particularly known as an incubator for clawhammer banjo players, but that’s where Brown, as a six-year-old ukulele student, was introduced to old-time music by her teacher, the late Shlomo Pestco.   “A whole new world kind of opened up for me in terms of music. Not that I had a lot of worlds going already at six, but that was how I was exposed to old-time music and traditional music from different parts of the world.   “I also met a lot of great friends through the music, and I think that that helped maintain my interest in it because lots of people around me were playing, and it was a real community, and that really encouraged my continued participation.   “Shlomo’s house was full of instruments, and we would sit encircled by them. He had them all on stands, and there were two chairs in the middle, so I was always seeing all of these different instruments. Sometimes, at the end of the lesson, I would pick different ones up and then try them. I ended up playing the banjo ukulele for a while, which is like a hybrid instrument, and I got really used to the sound in the projection of the instrument, and I think I just kind of liked the tone.”   Brown attended the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts, a high school in Queens.   “I was singing a lot of classical songs and that really helped me understand my own voice, but still, I wasn't as intrigued by the theory behind it, which is a big part of music education.”   What intrigued her was the music of Eastern Kentucky.   “When I was a kid, I learned a lot of music in Whitesburg, Ky., at the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School,” Brown explains. “I also visited a few real old masters of the music when I was younger, and that was an influential period of time where I was very focused specifically on Eastern Kentucky banjo music.   “I also learned a lot when I was about 12 from John Haywood. He’s a very legit Eastern Kentucky player, and he really plays in that specific regional style.”   Brown’s banjo playing incorporates many sounds and textures. Her clawhammer playing can be both brash and subtle. It can evoke the rawness of old-time music and the sophistication of a thoughtful, introspective artist.   “I'm generally drawn towards the more mellow, warmer-sounding tones that the banjo can produce,” Brown says. “Usually, there’s a lot of brightness with the banjo. But the banjo can also make really nice, warm, mellow sounds, and I'm really attracted to that.”   Brown’s playing is often punctuated with harmonics, a chime-like sound created by barely touching the string above the fret. This technique is often used in the Eastern Kentucky style of playing.   “I also do a lot of two-finger playing. People play two-finger banjo style in a lot of places, but it is especially prevalent in Eastern Kentucky, and that's where I was introduced to it.”   In addition to performing and recording on her own, Brown is an enthusiastic musical collaborator. In 2023, Brown recorded Lady of the Lake  with fiddler Stephanie Coleman, a frequent colleague in the studio and at shows.   “Stephanie and I have just always gotten along really well. We've been great friends for a really long time. We have similar values in what we think is good and what we think is important. It's great playing with Stephanie.”   Brown and Coleman have recently completed a tour of the United Kingdom. She says the audience is interested in her music.   “It's not too different from America in a lot of ways. There's a heavy connection between the British Isles folk music and American folk. People often put them in the same bucket.”   The new year will bring a new semester for Brown. And she’s got plenty going on in addition to her studies.   “I'll be touring in California at the beginning of the year, and I will also be doing some recording in January. I'll have some projects coming out in the following months, so January is going to be a big time for me.”

Some photographers frame shots. Laci Mack frames moments — and in bluegrass, that’s the difference between a picture and a piece of history. You can spot her in the shadows at the Grand Ole Opry, in the corner at the Ryman, or tucked against a wall at the Station Inn, silent as a prayer until the shutter cracks like a snare hit. Then she’s gone again, already hunting the next frame.   “Patience is everything,” she says, and you believe it, because in her photos you can see the patience baked into every angle — the waiting, the watching, the exact millisecond when the bow arcs across the strings and the crowd leans in, breath held.   She didn’t learn this from a book or from a classroom. Laci grew up around music, the daughter of East Tennessee’s bluegrass and old-time scene. She didn’t just listen, she played. She was on stage with her band, feeling the lights, the nerves, and the energy rising in waves.   “Playing bluegrass growing up and getting to be on stage with my own band  definitely  set the tone for how I see my shots,” she says. “Being in that  moment, feeling the energy, plus watching us just lose ourselves in the music, stuck with me. So, when I started shooting full-time, I wanted to bring that same feeling into my photos. I want you to feel like you’re right there on stage with the band, plus I enjoy focusing on each member separately for what they bring to each group. I go for a lot of tight shots, weird angles, and little moments that make it feel real, because that’s how it feels when you’re actually living it.”   That’s the root of her work: not the perfection of the pose, but the imperfection of reality, the kind that breathes. It’s the sideways glance between bandmates, the bead of sweat that clings to a fiddle player’s temple, the instant when the bass player’s foot stamps just as the crowd claps. Laci has learned that to catch these, patience is the key. And that philosophy doesn’t change whether she’s at a dusty festival in July or inside the sacred wood of the Opry stage.   “Especially in legendary venues like the Opry, the Ryman, or the Station Inn, where the history is so powerful,” she explains. “When working with bands, I do a lot of prep. I learn the set list and the breakdown of each song, I walk the venues and really try to feel out the vibe of the area. It’s about knowing when to step in and when to let the moment breathe. Not just at iconic venues, but anywhere a band plays, patience for the band, for the crowd, and for the shot is key. I like to quietly observe and be ready. My goal is to add to the comfort of the situation. Be patient, be discreet, and let the moments happen naturally. Sometimes I’m right up front in full view of hundreds of people, other times you’ll never even spot me, but either way I’m doing my best to capture the real energy without disrupting it.”   Last year (2024), her work got a nod from the highest level when she was nominated for the IBMA’s first Photographer of the Year award, validating that her work is not just decoration, but documentation.   “First off, I was super stoked to hear that a Photographer of the Year category was even coming out, along with the other new categories through IBMA,” she says. “To be nominated alongside my fellow nominees in the very first running was incredibly humbling. Overall, I was happiest to see photography being officially recognized as part of bluegrass history. It’s more than just pictures; it’s the archive of our music. Growing up and traveling to festivals, I was obsessed with old photos I’d see. One-off artists collaborating, backstage moments, people just shooting the breeze and doing what they loved. That’s why that first nomination means so much to me. I feel blessed to be nominated again this year (2025). If I ever needed recognition, it would be enough to know that in 50 or 60 years, people will look back at my photos and remember the good times the same way I did with the ones that inspired me.”   Today, her camera lens is also pointed toward something new: Little Sugar Creek Farm (LSCF) in Thorntown, Indiana. Forty acres of Boone County earth, first worked in the 19th century, now getting a second life as a hub for bluegrass music, events, and even a new record label. Laci is their official photographer.   “It’s exciting and nerve-racking—but in the best way,” she says. “I still get to do things as I’ve always done as Laci Mack, Photographer, but now I’ve got an incredible company supporting me. LSCF has many phases in place to grow over the next few years. I’ve been tasked with their Hopeless Holler Trading Company. This is their new merch company that just launched in August of this year (2025), providing bluegrass merch to bands, festivals, music lovers, and everyone in between. They are currently sponsoring with the Grascals and the Po Ramblin’ Boys, so I’m sure you’ll see a lot more about Hopeless Holler on their social media."   She isn’t walking away from her bread-and-butter work — the live music, the stills for albums, the posters that show up taped to light poles before a show. She still loves it all.   “I honestly love every project I’m part of, but there’s something about wrapping up a job that just feels good,” she says. “Part of it is being proud of what we pulled off, and part is being fired up to jump into the next one. I started with a focus on festivals and live music, and that’s still where I feel most at home. I find it to be the perfect mix of bluegrass life, good people, and catching those little moments you can’t plan for.”   And maybe that’s what makes her photos feel different — they’re not just about what the audience saw but about what being there felt like. And if you’re in the audience and you catch her in your peripheral vision, quiet and steady, you might want to hold still. You’re about to become part of the archive.

“Christmas Time’s A-Comin’” says the granddaddy of Bluegrass holiday songs. And it seems to be a-comin’ sooner each year. As I write this, the first carol hasn’t fa-la-la-ed on the radio. But stores already have hauled out the holly, trimmed the trees, and tempted us with seasonal samples of fruitcake and candy. That’s put me in the mood to track down stories behind a few of my favorite Bluegrass Christmas songs. I once thought some of the more familiar tunes could be traced back to frontier days, but many were created in the mid-20 th century.   “Christmas Time’s A-Comin,’” originally recorded by Bill Monroe in 1951, was written by Benjamin “Tex” Logan, a Texas fiddler with a side gig at Bell Labs. That’s “Doctor Logan,” who earned his Ph.D. in electrical engineering from Columbia University and did research in digital audio. I’m relieved that his level of “day job” achievement isn’t a requirement to be a Yuletide tunesmith. Another favorite Christmas song is “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem.” Surely the Wise Men were humming that one on their way to the manger! Nope, again it’s a 20 th  century creation—with a barn rather than a stable in its backstory. Robert Fisher Boyce, a Middle Tennessee dairy farmer, was also a songwriter and shape-note singer. A house full of children wasn’t the best place to concentrate, so he headed to his barn to write “Beautiful Star” in 1938. The Stanley Brothers were the first to record what’s still one of the most popular Bluegrass carols. Stories Old and New The holiday season is a time for memories of home and family. Bluegrass Hall of Fame writer Paul Williams put a lot of those images into “Old Fashioned Christmas.” He told me that he’d just gotten out of the service in 1957 when Jimmy Martin invited him to spend Christmas with the Martin family in Sneedville, Tennessee. After the holidays, on a snowy car ride to Detroit, Paul wrote what became his first song as a member of Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys. Joe Mullens and the Radio Ramblers released their own version in 2022, featuring Paul Williams doing the recitation. The Nativity naturally inspires memorable songs of the season. Donna Ulisse released “All The Way To Bethlehem” in 2012, a concept album that’s led to annual live performances across the country. She and husband Rick Stanley and other co-writers created each song from the viewpoint of a different character in the Christmas story. Donna says her favorite is probably the title cut, a conversation between Mary and Joseph that Donna wrote with Kerry and Lynn Chater. During the nine days of a brutal trip on the back of a donkey, Donna says, Mary’s faith never wavered that they’d make it “All The Way to Bethlehem.” What’s going on in songwriters’ lives can put a personal stamp on even the most familiar story. In a writing session with Sue C. Smith and Lee Black, Jerry Salley mentioned to his co-writers that his daughter was expecting her first child. The writers then focused on other parents who were preparing to welcome a newborn more than 2000 years ago. The song “Getting Ready for a Baby” was recorded by the Oak Ridge Boys in 2012 and by Bluegrass group Volume Five as well as Jerry Salley. War and Peace on Earth Some of the most moving Christmas tunes contrast happy holiday memories with wartime loneliness and hardship. That explains why “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” recorded in 1943 by Bing Crosby, was the most requested song at USO shows in World War II. It remains a standard that’s been covered by many Bluegrass artists. Bluegrass writers also have tapped into the theme of conflict in what’s meant to be the season of peace on earth. In Tony Trischka’s “Christmas Cheer (This Weary Year”), Civil War soldiers try to keep the spirit alive during a break in the fighting. There are games, better rations, and even a stocking gift for the drummer boy. But soon, “a battle looms, the war resumes.” It’s a reminder that “Christmas cheer this weary year’s not like the last, you know. But hopefully by next we’ll be united with our families back home.” Paula Breedlove and Mark “Brink” Brinkman look at the same war through civilian eyes in “Christmas in Savannah,” recorded by Dale Ann Bradley. At the end of Sherman’s March to the Sea in 1864, the Union General tells President Lincoln that he’s “presenting as a Christmas gift the City of Savannah.” Understandably, starving local citizens weren’t in a festive mood. The siege had cut off supplies to the war-torn town until “Yankee Santas” from Michigan “came round with food and fresh provisions on wagons that were pulled . . . by little Christmas reindeer that looked a lot like mules.” At an IBMA song circle, I heard Dawn Kenney and David Morris sing their “Bells of Home,” which was recorded by the group Circa Blue. This new-to-me song is set “somewhere in Belgium” during World War II. On a snowy Christmas Eve during the Battle of the Bulge, a soldier dreams of holidays spent with family. Though he believes “some things are worth fighting for . . . like every soldier in this foxhole tonight, I miss the Bells of Home.” That song connects with me because it could have been the story of my father-in-law, Bill Scarbrough, who fought in that battle. Not long after, he was badly wounded and triaged with the dead. Then a passing medic noticed some slight movement and saved his life. I’d like to think that Tennessee farm boy soldier was called back by the Bells of Home.

Dig Deep is a unique and powerful force in the roots world with a hard-edged sound far beyond bluegrass. All the band members come from a punk music background, but band spokesman Alex Dalnodar says he got into bluegrass when he walked into a tavern and heard the 357 String Band. “Joseph Huber in 357 is an endless well of inspiration. We would not exist as a band if they had never existed.” The Stevens Point, Wisconsin-based band formed in 2015. “Stevens Point has a vibrant music scene. We bonded over the shared inspiration of traditional bluegrass and the love of rock n’ roll,” says Alex. “We have combined decades of hard gigging in the punk/metal scene.” The members of Dig Deep all left a cow punk band called The Ditchrunners. “We played a lot of country cover stuff. But we became a unit and started writing together.” The members re-formed, and the only change was the bass player. They adopted the name Dig Deep, and now they play regionally, in roadhouses, local bars, and festivals, but they have done a coast-to-coast tour and have been talking about playing abroad. “We did a tour with Steve'n Seagulls, who did AC/DC covers. We would really like to do more stuff like that.” Attending a Dig Deep show is an energizing experience. Much more than a string band show, Dig Deep is known for its boisterous performances. The Milwaukee Record described them as “the bluegrass equivalent to a ‘dogs playing poker’ painting. It’s casual, but still professional and friendly, but also very metal,” and “foot-stomping rhythm, sing-along harmonies, and infectious mandolin and banjo picking.” Members of the band include Alex (guitar/vocals), Oscar Noetzel (banjo), Aaron von Barron (bass), and Bob Weigandt (mandolin). The release of their album, Heavy Heart, coincided with the COVID pandemic, which trashed their plans for a tour. Other albums include Live in Denver(11.121.24), Lair of Hodag (2024), and Dig Deep (2015). The Lotta Morgan is an album released on vinyl in September 2017. The songs on the album chronicle the murder of a beloved film actress in Hurley, Wisconsin, during the great Northwoods mining boom. A description of the album on discogs.com says, “with characteristic vision, craft, and clout, the four-piece group firmly establishes their ground outside the realm of conventional Americana while exploring sonic and literary territory that plumbs the depths of power and weight.” Alex says, “It’s a noteworthy release.” According to Alex, 75% of what they play are original tunes. They dropped two albums last year, so touring has been a priority this year. “We definitely have some songs brewing,” says Alex. “We may try to get into the studio this winter. The plan is to finish a new album in the spring and release it next summer.” The band hosts a music festival in Stevens Point each February called Tip-Up Pike Jam. “My family does it, and yes, it is an outdoor festival in Wisconsin,” says Alex, “It has an ice fishing tournament, live music, and more, and a lot of people from the bluegrass community turn out. We raise money for a local non-profit called Jessie’s Wish.” The festival celebrated its seventh year this year. Check the Tip-Up Pike Jam Facebook Page for the 2026 festival dates. To get a taste of Dig Deep, click here  for a video of their tune, “Heavy Heart,” the title song from their 2020 album.

Just a few years out of Berklee College of Music, brother and sister Elisha and Aila Wildman, performing as The Wildmans, seem like fresh new faces on the roots music scene. But owing to the vibrant, legendary old-time music scene around Floyd, Va., where they grew up, fiddling, singing, and strumming have always been part of their DNA.   “We grew up kind of going to the Floyd Country store every Friday night for a really long time,” says Aila. “They do the Friday night jamboree where all the old timer musicians kind of come out and play. That was definitely what got us into playing music.”   “The other aspect of the old-time music scene in Floyd is all these fiddle conventions that are unique to this region,” Eli explains. “I remember going to the Galax Fiddlers Convention--Aila must have been five years old and I was seven--and that was the first time we saw a mandolin in person. And we continued going to other conventions like Fries, Elk Creek, Mount Airy, and Clifftop. And that was hugely inspiring to us. So it's a kind of community that we got to know, and also gave us something to work towards, to learn a song and be able to play it in front of a bunch of people on stage.”   Rather than preserving the traditional sounds of their native region on their new album, Longtime Friend , The Wildmans instead imaginatively combine their acoustic roots and their Berklee College experiences to create music that defies limits and labels. Aila’s vibrant, authentic fiddling combines electric guitar, evocative percussion, and the siblings’ blood harmonies on compelling original songs, old fiddle tunes, and striking covers, including two Graham Parsons numbers. It’s a different sound from their first album, which more closely reflected their traditional music upbringing.   “This one feels like a huge growth and representation of ourselves musically coming from all our time at Berklee and just kind of growing,” says Eli. “And channeling out more of our inspirations from our early years as well as now.”   The variety of material on the album is striking. “Autumn 1941” is a chilling account, based on a true story, of an Appalachian mother protecting her daughter from outsiders. “Luxury Liner” is a rollicking rendition of Graham Parsons’s classic that showcases Aila’s singing. “Old Cumberland” and “The Route” are fiddle tunes that soar in unique arrangements with electric guitar and drums.   “I think that's something that just happened naturally from playing with (producer and percussionist) Nick Falk,” says Eli. “And then Sam Leslie learned the tunes on electric guitar. We kind of just put him on this little tiny amp far away in this huge room we were playing in, so we could all hear the guitar at the volume of our acoustic instruments. It’s almost referencing the banjo, and it almost sounds like it has an African influence to me.”   Eli’s guitar and mandolin playing and Aila’s fiddling are products of their old-time roots. But they are accomplished vocalists as well. Aila’s lead singing allows the duo to take on practically any song that intrigues them.   “I can remember singing for as long as I can remember," Aila says. “I just always wanted to sing.”    “Our parents were always playing us Bonnie Raitt and Canned Heat and Stevie Ray Vaughn--all these incredible vocalists,” Eli adds. “A lot of blues, a lot of that 60s, 70s music, and a lot of folk revival music. So we always had that influence of the vocal aspect. And for me, I think Doc Watson was one of my early singing influences. And we loved Nickel Creek growing up. They were a huge influence.”   Aila, who finished at Berklee a year and a half ago, has returned to Floyd, which, for now, The Wildmans call home when they are not touring.   “Right now, it makes sense when we're thinking about saving money,” Eli explains. “But we have a lot of friends on the New York City scene. One of our best audiences is when we go to play in New York City, and we have an audience full of twenty-something-year-olds, which is pretty cool to see. We've had people tell us, ‘I don't know what that fiddle's doing, but it makes me want to dance!’ And that's awesome. But right now, Floyd's working out well, so we're really fortunate to have a beautiful place to be where our parents live and where we grew up.   “The goal is to be self-sufficient and play music on the road. Sell some tickets, record some records, and have the time to write songs. We’ve both been juggling jobs outside of music to be able to do our music when we can, and just keep up with living expenses and all that. So I think we're both really looking forward to not having to work when we're not on the road.”

Some bands begin with ambition. Ruby Joyful began with love. Dan Rubinoff had played in small local bands most of his life, but he says, "I never wrote a good song until I was 50 years old. Joyce and I met eight and a half years ago. It opened up the creative pathways and all of a sudden I was writing good music." That spark led to more than just a few songs. It led to a new life. Ruby Joyful, the band Dan co-founded with partner and bassist Joice Moore, came together in Paonia, Colorado. Their relationship quickly evolved into a creative partnership. “We fell in love immediately. We are still in love, like crazy. Every day is like a honeymoon for us. It never changes.” Joice had never played music before, but Dan, a longtime musician, encouraged her. “We got her to play the bass, which is what all good boyfriends do,” he laughs. Ruby Joyful played local gigs—what they affectionately called "wheelbarrow shows" at the neighborhood brewery, because they literally wheeled their equipment over. “We didn’t have a name ‘cause we kept switching people all the time,” Dan says. “This guy had just come back from hiking a mountain over in Crested Butte called Oh Be Joyful. He said, ‘You’re Rubin, ’ & she’s Joice, so let’s call you Ruby Joyful.’ It was just totally quick, and the name has stuck ever since.” But the hobby turned into something more when Dan invited longtime friend Drew Emmitt to sit in on a show for Colorado congressional candidate Adam Frisch. Emmitt agreed, and that evening changed their fate. “We had dinner with Drew after the show, and I told him about the recording experience. I was like, man, it’s fun, but it just doesn’t sound good. Nobody’s gonna think it sounds good. And I said, 'Hey, would you consider playing a couple of licks on it?' And he looked up and said, 'Sure, absolutely.'” Drew opened the floodgates. He helped connect Dan to Nashville engineer Mark Mirro, who had just taken over Snowmass Creek Studios, initially built by Glenn Frey. Before long, Dan and Joice were recording with some incredible talents. “Before we know it, little Joyce and I from little Paonia, Colorado, are in the studio with Drew Emmitt and Andy Thorn on banjo and Eli Emmitt, Drew’s son.” From there, the project snowballed. Stewart Duncan joined the recording in Nashville. “I paid him to do two tracks. And while we were in the studio with the engineers, we all looked at each other, we’re like, we gotta keep him going. So he ended up doing six tracks.” Dan called up Rob Ickes to join a short tour. “I said, ‘I know you don’t know me or anything, but I’m playing a few shows in Colorado with Drew and Andy, would you consider it?’ And he said, Yes. And my heart just dropped.” The record title, The Pie Chart of Love , is inspired by a piece of pop art Dan created that still hangs in their home. “I started doing big canvases that connected love with seventh-grade math principles. So, I did the pie chart of love, the Venn diagram of love, and the line graph of love…” Every song is rooted in their love. “Everything about the album is basically about our love. It just is. It’s what it is. Every show we’ve done, every song, it’s what we do. And to play with her is a dream for me, honestly.” Despite its success—radio airplay, folk chart rankings, and a publicist campaign—Dan and Joice didn’t want to dive into the industry. “We’re not music business people. We didn’t do the internet-savvy thing. I’m not interested in winning an internet popularity contest.” Instead, they found a calling that felt more purposeful. “We literally get in the van and tour around the west, just playing at children's hospitals,” Dan says. “It has completely won our hearts over from everything else.” Their first experience in that realm of performance came in Greece in 2018, playing for children with terminal illnesses. It deepened after Dan played music for his mother, who had advanced Alzheimer’s. Later, at Denver Children’s Hospital, their experimental visit changed everything. “One hour with kids hooked up to infusion machines would blow the doors off of any sold-out performance we’d ever be doing.” The songwriting never really stops. Even while biking in Alaska, Dan is writing for a program called Song Story, where musicians compose from stories written by terminally ill children. “That’s my one assignment on this trip—to write a song… I’m actually supposed to record it before I get home.” When asked about favorite tracks, Dan points to “All My Friends Got More Money Than Me.” “It was so sweet and so production-wise… I can’t even believe that’s my song,” he says. He also highlights ‘The Same Day,’ a tribute to their devotion. “We decided a long time ago that if we ever died, we’d have to die on the same day because neither of us could stand living one day without each other.” As for the future of Ruby Joyful? “We made it, we did it. It’s beautiful. And I think if it comes again, sure. But the stress of keeping a band together, paying everybody and keeping everybody working… eh. I think we’re enjoying life too much.”

If you ask Matt Wallace why he made his new album Close The Door Lightly, his answer comes from years of making music on stages, in studios, and in the quiet moments between gigs—years that have shaped the Knoxville-born bassist into the kind of artist who knows exactly what he wants to play, and who he wants to play it with. The album—out now on Huckleberry Records—isn’t a showcase of original material, and that’s by design. Wallace calls it more of a “jukebox record,” a collection of songs he loves, reimagined with some of his favorite players. “It’s less like you’re making a record and more like you’re filling a jukebox full of stuff that you want to hear,” he says. Those choices run the gamut from Osborne Brothers classics to Jimmy Martin staples, filtered through Wallace’s warm, grounded musical sensibility. He brought in musicians he’s worked with over the past decade—Don Rigsby, Ronnie Stewart, Jeff Partin—and one newcomer to his circle, guitarist Brian Stephens, whose feel reminded Wallace of the late Tony Rice. “Brian is the closest feel to… anyone… to Tony that’s playing right now,” Wallace says. “We locked in within ten minutes.” The rhythm tracks were cut live with Stephens and Alex Hibbitts, and then Wallace sent songs out for the others to add their parts remotely. The result is an album polished but relaxed, steeped in East Tennessee bluegrass and tinged with country steel and drums in unexpected places. The title track, “Close The Door Lightly When You Go,” first caught Wallace’s ear on a Dillards record. He loved Darrell Webb’s version but wanted his own to sound different—with pedal steel, drums, and a more country feel. That mindset shaped the whole project: honor the source but make it yours. When it came to “Once More,” Wallace immediately wanted Rigsby’s Ralph Stanley-inspired tenor on it. “I cut it because I wanted to hear Don Rigsby sing ‘Once More,’” Wallace says. That straightforward approach doesn’t mean the work was easy. Wallace still grins, recalling the moment Stewart started sending him banjo tracks while he was at his son’s high school baseball game. “I told him, ‘I want you to play everything mean as shit,’” Wallace laughs. “And he nailed it. I was sitting there, headphones in, grinning like an idiot.” Wallace’s path to this album stretches back to 2005, when a college baseball injury left him searching for something to fill the time. His grandfather had been a local musician, and bluegrass pulled him in fast. His first professional gig was with Paul Williams, although Wallace admits he had no idea who Williams was when he cold-called him out of the phone book. From there, he logged years on the road with Williams, Audie Blaylock, and others, often while holding down a full-time job. Wallace plays far fewer shows these days, choosing to be home for his three sons’ travel baseball schedules. “I would much rather… be remembered as a good daddy who was always there than a bass player or a bluegrass musician,” he says. That shift in priorities shows in Close The Door Lightly. It’s not a young man’s calling card; it’s the work of a musician making the record he wants, with the people he wants, at a moment when the music feels like it should. While Wallace jokes that there’s “not a lot of art” to it, the album’s breezy confidence suggests otherwise. It’s the kind of work that comes from knowing your strengths, your limits, and your reasons for making music in the first place. “Just listen to it,” he says. “I hope you enjoy it.”