Tenille Townes’ The Lemonade Stand is more than a major label debut album – it’s a safe space. On it, Townes asks big questions and expresses even bigger emotions, her compassionate worldview on full display as her childhood dream of making it big in country music takes root.
The title itself stems from a line in Townes’ empathy-focused debut single “Somebody’s Daughter” where she crafts a narrative about a young woman she saw begging for money on the side of the road. The lyrics give the woman a name (“she could be a Sarah, an Emily”), reflect on her past without judgement (“Bet she was somebody’s best friend laughing/Back when she was somebody’s sister/Countin’ change at the lemonade stand/Probably somebody’s high school first kiss/Dancin’ in a gym where the kids all talk about someday plans”), and finally, pack a thought-provoking punch as Townes ponders, “I wonder if she got lost or they forgot her.”
While the song emphasizes compassion, the album’s title stands for unity. “It represents a gathering place,” Townes tells Audiofemme. “I hope this record somehow reminds people of their dreams, too – because that feeling was very much saturated in the creation of it.” Coming together during, in Townes words, a season of “trust and faith,” there’s a certain magic that runs through the project. Across twelve songs, Townes demonstrates a sense of wisdom beyond her 26 years, crafting songs that present a deity with a list of hard-hitting questions, share her vision of heaven and suggest that life’s beauty is intangible, experienced within.
Since making the 37-hour drive from her hometown in Alberta, Canada to Music City, Townes has spent the past seven years working with some of the city’s best songwriters, connecting to her voice in the process. “Being able to really disappear into the Nashville community and craft these songs and find my voice and the things I wanted to say, that time felt really sacred to me to be digging into those thoughts,” she expresses.
Townes recorded the project over the course of seven weeks at a church-turned-studio in East Nashville. One of the “transcendent” moments of the album-making process came when she sat around the altar of the church to record “When I Meet My Maker.” Townes was wearing her great-grandmother’s earrings while recording and vows that she could feel her presence, her spirit serving as the heartbeat of the song that depicts Townes’ perspective of heaven. “When I meet my maker/I’ll walk on heaven’s boulevard/Up above the clouds/In between the stars/I’ll ask him all my questions/And he’ll answer with a smile/I’ll tell him how I love him/And I’ll thank him for my life,” she sings. She calls the song the “most raw” form of expression on the album.
That vulnerability is also reflected in “Jersey on the Wall (I’m Just Asking).” The song is inspired by Townes’ visit to a local high school reeling from a fatal car accident involving five of its students. One of them was a star basketball player and valedictorian who had her whole life ahead of her. The singer gets candid on the track, her reflections on the tragedy expanding into existential questions she’d pose to the powers that be if she ever got the chance. Her humility is reflected in the song’s parentheticals, but ultimately it’s about the life-altering events that can test the faith of even the most devout. “That felt like a very raw place to dig into,” Townes says, admitting that she wrestles with the idea of being able to ask those questions, but affirms, “I think we’re allowed to.”
Townes continues her soul-searching journey with poetic closing number, “The Most Beautiful Things.” Written by Townes, Josh Kear and Gordie Sampson, the song is based on the famous Helen Keller quote “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, they must be felt with the heart.” The songwriting trio felt compelled to write a song around this idea, channeling it into such lyrics as “So why do we close our eyes, when we pray, cry, kiss, dream? Maybe the most beautiful things in this life are felt and never seen.”
Townes brings these heartfelt words to life with her voice soaring over a serene melody of twinkling piano. The song also features the voice of seven-year-old Amelia, the daughter of sound engineer Jason Hall, which Townes says captures the child-like innocence of the song’s message. “It felt special to really put some music around that idea and capture that wonder and innocent-hearted way of actually noticing the beautiful things around us,” Townes observes. “I really believe they’re always there; it’s just having the eyes to see them and feel it and recognize that.”
For Townes, one of the most beautiful elements she’s experienced in life comes in the simplest, most pure form – love – a feeling that she hopes fans gravitate to in her music as the world continues to battle the COVID-19 pandemic and flood the streets for racial justice. “I hope that people feel like they can come and be filled up with this music and be reminded of the kid that they used to be, standing at some lemonade stand and dreaming of their place in the world, not afraid to notice the beautiful things around them and just show up and be who they are. I hope that they feel like they’re not alone and that they’re filled up with the idea of their dreams,” Townes says. “This record definitely is the dream that I had as a seven-year-old kid. I hope that people feel that when they hear these songs.”
Contemporary blues duo Larkin Poe channel stories of self-empowerment and community into their fierce new album, Self Made Man.
Describing themselves as “first generation music makers” of their family, the sister duo of Rebecca and Megan Lovell were originally part of the acoustic family band The Lovell Sisters in 2003 alongside younger sister Jessica. The group disbanded in 2010, leading Rebecca and Megan to join forces as duo Larkin Poe, built on a foundation of blues and soul with gritty melodies and slick harmonies.
Though their parents worked in the medical field, they instilled a love of music into their daughters by encouraging them to play instruments like classical violin and piano. But it wasn’t long before the Atlanta-raised siblings discovered a passion for bluegrass music. Becoming enamored with the “power” and “energy” of roots Americana in their early teens, they picked up instruments fundamental to the genre, like guitar, banjo and mandolin. Rebecca became the youngest and first female to win the MerleFest mandolin contest in 2006 at the age of 15, while Megan mastered the lap steel guitar, referring to it as her “real voice.”
Their Georgia roots come to life on Self Made Man. The album takes their stories from the road and turns them into 11 bold and brash songs, including the fiery “Keep Diggin’,” inspired by the people of their hometown who made a habit out of feeding the rumor mill. “We have a collection of really eccentric, strong-willed gossiping Southern women in our family, and if there’s one thing that Southern women know how to do, it is stick their nose precisely where it doesn’t belong,” Rebecca tells Audiofemme. “But they stick it in such a fashion that it’s very polite and they’re blessing your heart the entire time.” The track is filled with foot stomps and hand claps while the lyrics advise listeners to believe actions over words, exemplifying the duo’s ability to wrap the truth around clever phrasing.
This sense of humor is also reflected in the album’s title, a tongue-in-cheek reference to the outdated stereotype that the key to success is being a white male. The Nashville-based duo defied this suppressive norm by founding their own record label, Tricki-Woo Records, in 2017, and self-producing their own albums, including Self Made Man. “We’re real do it yourself-ers,” Megan professes. “It felt like the right title for now, considering how much control we’ve taken into our own hands and that we’re feeling very empowered as artists and as producers.”
Part of this empowerment comes from the years Larkin Poe spent touring. Their 2019 trek took them across Europe and Canada, in addition to opening for a range of acts including Bob Seger and Keith Urban throughout the U.S. in 2018. Their appreciation for cultures around the world has instilled the artists with a profound sense of community that they manifested into their fifth studio project. “We’ve felt a huge groundswell underneath us,” Megan proclaims. “I think that’s why this record, even more than our previous projects, has a feeling of positivity and optimism and empowerment.” While writing for Self Made Man, the sisters aimed to encapsulate the deep connection they felt performing for global audiences, discovering the commonality that exists between the artist and fans during live shows. “While we are incredibly different, from place to place, there are so many more similarities about humans than there are differences,” Rebecca observes. “There really was this overwhelming sense of unity. That sense of human connection was really pure and unadulterated.”
Writing for Self Made Man also held a mirror up to how the sisters have evolved as songwriters, making a conscious effort to pivot from writing from a solely personal state to an all-encompassing perspective. “When you’re writing as a young person, you tend to write very introspective. I think the older we’ve gotten, the more important it’s been to think about us as a community,” Rebecca explains. “At a certain point, you do have this shift where empathy can play a larger part in your songwriting, this widening of focus where you’re able to think about other people’s perspective and what might we need as a group, what’s going to feel good for us to share together.”
The sisters hope that fans take away the feeling of self-empowerment and unity that they poured into the record and carry it to their own journeys as the world continues to grapple with the COVID-19 pandemic. “This album was really meant for this time. There are a handful of songs that really do seem to apply and the sense of coming together in spite of being worlds apart,” Rebecca says. “Hopefully these songs will be good companions to people in this uncertain time.”
Follow Larkin Poe on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Nicole Boggs is unwilling to be put into a box, both socially and musically. Since the singer-songwriter released her jazzy debut album Overcome in 2013, her sound has ventured into different genres with the help of guitarists/songwriters Alex Kramer and Sam Gyllenhaal and bassist Loren D. Clark, who together form Nicole Boggs & The Reel. Their latest single, “None of Your Business,” exemplifies the group’s versatility as well as its latest mission: to bring back ’70s rock ‘n’ roll.
“28 long days ago, you passed the joint and said you didn’t love me/And all that I could think to say is, ‘That’s a whole lot of bad news to get at breakfast,'” begins the single, a tongue-in-cheek declaration of independence from a an ex-lover. The song was inspired by a turbulent breakup Boggs went through, but she says it’s more broadly “a ‘fuck you’ to anyone who is standing in your way.”
In contrast to Boggs’ soul and jazz-inspired solo music, “None of Your Business” and the rest of the Nashville-based band’s eponymous EP (out July 3) is heavily influenced by bands like The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac. Boggs also hears hints of ’90s Sheryl Crow in the single, which was recorded during a live show at Nashville’s Ocean Way studio — quite possibly because she brought in Nashville musicians who had worked with Crow for it.
The video similarly gives off nostalgic vibes, with the band members divided into Brady Bunch-esque quadrants in between flashes of psychedelic imagery and old TV shows, along with footage of them doing everyday things, like chopping vegetables. Boggs jokes that the only idea she had for the video before making it was that she wanted to incorporate fruit — and, indeed, you will spot her on the floor surrounded by fruit toward the end.
“If you watch the video, you can kind of tell there wasn’t a plan,” says Gyllenhaal. “I think that makes it more fun to watch just because of all the random stuff we do in that video.”
This is the first EP the group members all wrote together, which makes it more cohesive than their past work. Their personalities shine through sarcasm, loud three-part harmonies, and fun, energetic grooves you can’t help but stop and listen to – and of course, all those guitar riffs. “We were having trouble finding a regular keyboard player, and everything happened to be built around the sound of three guitars, which in of itself creates something that feels more dry and aggressive and in-your-face,” says Boggs.
The songs are each in their own way about “not taking shit and standing up for yourself,” says Boggs, who took inspiration from her own experience as a woman in the music industry. On the first single, “Money,” which draws from conversations she’d had with industry big-wigs, she declares her unwillingness to sell her soul for fame. “I’m Gonna Break Your Heart,” a single released in April, is one of the band’s bluesier tracks, with hints of the Black Keys, as Boggs warns a future lover, “I’m a mean bitch and I tear everything apart.”
The band is currently working on new material that responds to turbulent times with their most political music thus far, in light of recent instances of racial violence and protests against police brutality.
“I see that being the future for us,” says Boggs. “We’re standing up for the injustices right now, and these are the tools we have to do so.”
Follow Nicole Boggs & The Reel on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Country’s musical threads have long been tattered, torn, and intertwined. The vastness of the genre ─ from bluesy front porch pickin’ to the pristine pop-country of Patsy Cline and Eddy Arnold to today’s hip-hop filtered stride ─ relies heavily on its music-makers and a willingness to remember the past but push the needle forward. It can often seem as if mainstream radio has largely ignored its own roots, but there remains great traditional commitment on, and off, the airwaves.
Rising four-piece Gone West ─ an effort forged by Grammy winner Colbie Caillat, Justin Young, Jason Reeves, and Nelly Joy ─ call upon an array of styles, approaches, and aesthetics for their debut album. Canyons operates as a canopy of the format’s expansive countryside, switching among dusty C&W, glistening pop-framed sweeteners, and electrifying rock-fueled anthems. They never seem to lose their way, simply darting from one song to another, adding on thick harmony work you’d find on any Carter Family or Little Big Town record.
Their eponymous song cracks open the record, spinning out with dream-seeking ambitions, as they learn to let the past go and carve their own path. “I’ve gone west, rollin’ down the highway like a tumbleweed,” the lyrics keep time with the rhythmic pulse coursing in their veins. “I’ve gone west, where the canyons fall into the deep blue sea.”
Immediately, there is an invigoration and life-confirming thrill motoring throughout the entire 13-track release. Their first Top 30 radio hit, “What Could’ve Been,” is sorrow-baked, a gripping tune in which they reminisce about a former lover whose memory falls through their hands like water. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you / Has it really been this long?,” ponders Caillat, her silky voice draping over the melody. Only scorched earth remains between the two lovers, and drenched in unbridled passion, even now, the imagery they paint bubbles up in vivid, sharp colors with the chorus: “We left blood on the tracks / Sweat on the saddle / Fire in the hills / A bullet in the barrel,” the four croon together. “Words never said in a story that didn’t end / Looks like you’re on the mend and I’m on the bottle.”
It’s quintessential pop-country, dancing between sunny rays of throwback style and contemporary flair, and the quartet ride that musical saddle start to finish. “When to Say Goodbye” slides into a similar emotional side-pocket, shades of melancholy casting a heartfelt shadow, and it is their vocal framework that is most striking. “I don’t wanna leave / I don’t wanna stay / I don’t wanna keep saying the things we don’t wanna say… truth or lie,” their ache is irresistible.
“I’m Never Getting Over You” skips across a piano base, allowing Caillat’s lead vocal to break your heart again and again and again. Reeves takes the reigns in select moments, Joy and Young heaving with some absolutely stunning harmonies that’ll leave you breathless. “I can’t stop you from leaving / And you can’t stop me from loving you” is the kind of admission you don’t want to hear, but it’ll eventually be for the better. Crashing and burning is never easy in the moment, but time, and the slow climb out, leads to transformation.
An airy, acoustic arrangement, “This Time” is perhaps the crown jewel, a performance both exquisite and draining. “Oh I’m gonna stop right now and call my momma this time / Gonna take a sick day when I’m feeling great,” they sing, their words a reminder that time is a relentless force in our lives, but in relinquishing some control, we can learn to cherish the small moments before it’s too late and it all becomes nothing more regret. “I’ll keep my coffee black and sip my whiskey honest / Hold on to hope, and let go of the hate,” they continue. They unravel their heartstrings with clarity, the frays part of the journey, and its reminder to love and live life could not have had better timing. “Life and love don’t age like fine wine / There’s no time to wait to taste the sweetest vine.”
Gone West’s Canyons zip-lines over other emotional focal points (“Gamblin’ Town,” “Home is Where the Heartbreak Is”) and radio-charged ear-candy (“Slow Down,” “Confetti,” “R&R”). With a collection of producers, including Jamie Kennedy, Jimmy Robbins, Eric Arjes, Nathan Chapman, and Alysa Vanderheym, as well as themselves, the band plant their flag firmly in the modern conversation. Their foundation is so clearly nurtured that when they do veer into fluffy, feel good territory, they’ve more than earned that right. They are here to stay.
Photo Credit: Chelsea Thompson, courtesy of Capitol Records
The murder of George Floyd at the hands of a former Minneapolis police officer has sparked protests across the world calling for justice for Floyd and the end to systemic racism in America. Some of those voices are coming out of Nashville, from a genre of music that has largely remained quiet on issues related to justice and politics in the past. Kane Brown, Darius Rucker, Jimmie Allen, Carrie Underwood and Thomas Rhett are among the many artists who have spoken out against Floyd’s inhumane death, with reactions ranging from honest reflections on living in a racist society as a black person to steadfast support for the black community.
Perhaps one of the most profound statements has come from Mickey Guyton, who tells the world how it feels to be a black woman in America on her powerful new song, “Black Like Me.” As one of the few Black women working in mainstream country music, Guyton has long been outspoken about the obstacles she’s faced trying to have a voice in a genre dominated by white males. “Black Like Me” cuts through the noise to share an honest and important perspective about what it’s like to live in her skin. Guyton explained in an Instagram post that she co-wrote the song in 2019 with Nathan Chapman, Emma DD and Fraser Churchill as a response to the “hate” and “oppression” she was witnessing in the world. Across three minutes and 31 seconds, Guyton takes the listener inside her journey as a child on the playground where she was told for the first time that she was “different,” later watching her father work twice as hard to buy a home to raise his family in. But the chorus is where she delivers a truly gut-punching declaration:
“It’s a hard life on easy street/Just white painted picket fences far as you can see/And if you think we live in the land of the free/You should try to be/Black like me/Oh, and some day we’ll all be free/And I’m proud to be, oh, Black like me.”
“Our world is on fire right now. There is so much division and hate. I wrote this song over a year ago because I was so tired of seeing so much hate and oppression. And yet here we are in the exact same place!” Guyton explains in the post debuting the song. “We must change that. I hope this song can give you a small glimpse into what my brothers and sisters have endured for 400+ years.” While she continues to serve as a passionate advocate for racial justice, she is also calling on her country music peers to do the same, many of whom have answered the call.
Darius Rucker also expressed his viewpoint on how it feels to live as a Black American. In a vulnerable, three-page statement, Rucker shared the “raw feeling of pain” he experienced watching the video of Floyd’s murder.
“As an American, a father, a son, a brother, a singer, a man…I have faced racism my whole life from kindergarten to the life I live today,” he begins. “Racism is not a born thing; it is a taught thing. It is not a strong belief; it is a weak belief. It is not a financial issue; it is a hatred issue.” As a father of three children, Rucker explained the “anguish” and “anger” they’ve felt in the aftermath of Floyd’s murder, urging for people to unify in order to bring about change. “The only way it will ever change is if we can change people’s hearts,” he encourages. “I really hope that we get better as a nation. My request to you guys is to search your heart on behalf of all of us, and root out any fear, hate or division you have inside of you. We need to come together.”
Like Rucker, “Best Shot” singer Jimmie Allen is the father of a six-year-old Black son and welcomed a daughter with his fiancée Alexis Gale in March. Allen expressed deep sorrow and concern for his son’s future growing up in a racist culture, also calling for people to use love as a guiding force for systemic change. “The continued non value of life towards black men in America concerns me. As a black man and a father raising a black boy I’m worried. The uncertainty of his safety turns my stomach,” he confessed in a recent Instagram post. “I challenge everyone to love each other and let our hearts speak louder than the injustice. Love so hard that it suffocates the hate.”
Kane Brown echoed this sentiment, calling on people of all backgrounds to unite in order to achieve world peace. “We will never see peace in this world until we ALL see each other as PEOPLE. We will never understand each other when you have people on 2 different sides. We have to become one to be at peace,” he explains in a Twitter post.
While Black country artists made it a point to speak out, many white allies also raised their voices in support. Two of the most profound statements came from Thomas Rhett and his wife Lauren Akins, the parents of four-year-old daughter Willa Gray, who they adopted from Uganda in 2017. Both spoke honestly about it’s like to be white parents of a Black daughter, pledging their unconditional support not only to their child, but the Black community as a whole. In a open-hearted message shared on Instagram, Rhett reveals that while their blended family has been mostly met with unconditional love, they have dealt with racism “directly,” previously instilling him with a fear that stopped him from making a public statement. He also notes the fear that his Black crew members have felt while touring on the road with him, behavior he deems “unacceptable.”
“When I witnessed the horrific murder of George and think about the mistreatment of other black men and women in America, I am heartbroken and angry. I get scared when I think about my daughters and what kind of world they will be growing up in and how my JOB as a father is to show them how to lead with love in the face of hate. To know their worth and value as not only women but human beings,” he explains. “So if there is any question on where I stand let me be clear – I stand with you, I stand with George and his family and all those who have faced racism. I stand with my wife and my daughters. We will be fighting this fight for the rest of our lives. Rest In Peace, George. We are not letting this go.”
Akins also spoke about her role as a parent to their multi-race children, stating that in the past she has been shamed by people who believe she is unqualified to be the mother of a Black daughter, creating a sense of “anxiety” that has led her to not speak out publicly – until now. “But as her mother, I want her to be VERY sure that I am HER mother who stands up not only for her, but for every single person who shares her beautiful brown skin. I want to be her mother who raises her to know what it means to have brown skin and to be proud of it,” she pledges. “I believe if I stay silent I am betraying my brothers and sisters. I believe if I stay silent I am betraying my daughter… Together, let’s be an army for love. That means speaking up loudly for injustices whether or not we share the same skin color, language, beliefs… I want my children to cling to the good. Love, peace, kindness, joy. I want them to BE the good.”
For a genre that has historically been remiss in standing up for justice, it offers a glimmer of hope to see many country artists use their voices to take a firm stance in opposition to racism, asserting that Black Lives Matter. My hope is that the country community will continue to fight for equality and turn these words into action, adding to the ocean of voices that are rising to end systemic racism and change this world for the better.
We will never see peace in this world until we ALL see each other as PEOPLE. We will never understand each other when you have people on 2 different sides. We have to become 1 to be at peace ☮️ ❤️
It’s been hard to find the words to adequately convey how outraged and sad I am. WHITE PEOPLE HAVE HAD IT SO FUCKING WRONG SINCE THE BEGINNING and I will do whatever I can I help break the DISGUSTING, damaging cycle racism and systemic privilege causes. I will not be a bystander.
Tessy Lou Williams chronicles hard-to-break habits in her new song, “One More Night.”
As the daughter of Kenny and Claudia Williams of the band Montana Rose, Williams was born with music in her DNA. After years of working as a songwriter and live performer, Williams is ready to commit her voice and words to her self-titled, debut solo album, out this Friday, May 22nd. It’s bound to satisfy any traditional country fan’s appetite, and that includes Williams’ latest single, “One More Night,” premiering exclusively with Audiofemme.
The Montana-bred Williams had the idea for a song, about those insatiable vices you need one more hit of, rolling in her head for a while. But a bout with writer’s block sent her into the studio with co-writer Vanessa Olivarez to finish the tune. “It’s about that battle between your head and your heart where you think you feel one way, but you know better,” Williams explains about the song’s meaning. “It’s really not a healthy choice, but you still pine over it. You feel like you need it, but you know you don’t.”
Whether it’s another drink, one more smoke or a past love, told from the perspective of a lonely soul inside a bar at last call, Williams makes those nagging addictions feel universal. “In the writing process we were thinking about it in that bigger picture. We talk about the ‘two more cigarettes in my pack…’ you could be like, ‘I don’t need those right now,’ but you know you’re going to smoke them,” she says, analyzing the song’s opening line. Williams tells the story with mellifluous vocals reminiscent of Lee Ann Womack and Alison Krauss, wrapped around a stunning melody of crisp fiddle and shimmering guitar, creating a classic country sound. “I know I should be gettin’ stronger/Fight the way I feel inside/I tell my heart over and over/All I need is one more night,” she sings.
Williams cites the bridge that proclaims, “Am I fool enough to believe that all I really need is one more night?” as the most personal line in the song, symbolizing a moment of self-awareness. “You realize you’re being ridiculous about the whole situation – you don’t want just one more and it’s not going to be just one more. You try to convince yourself ‘just one more and I’ll be good,’” she says.
Like many of the album’s other tracks, “One More Night” is pulled from the realm of heartbreak. Describing it as one of the most “relatable” songs on the record, Williams hopes that “One More Night” offers a sense of community to listeners who have gone through something similar. “I hope people can listen to it and know that they’re not alone in their experiences, that there are others out there who can relate to their situations. You’re never alone in life and it’s okay to be sad and heartbroken – we’re all there at one point or another,” she says. “We’re all a lot more alike than we think we are.”
Follow Tessy Lou Williams on Facebook for ongoing updates.
If your life feels like an endless struggle right now, folk singer-songwriter Natalie Schlabs has a message of hope for you. Her latest single, “See What I See,” reassures people in various difficult situations that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, even if they can’t see it at the moment.
“Are you lost in the dark?/Look again, you might see a shooting star/Honey, you are the sky/you hold the sun /you hold the shadow-side,” Schlabs’ sweet, clear voice sings in a verse aimed at someone with depression. Another verse of the song speaks to someone dealing with a chronic illness.
“I think we can all offer our eyes to someone when they’re having a hard time, imagining they will be OK again,” says Schlabs.
The song is on her sophomore album, Don’t Look Too Close, which comes out in October. Written during Schlabs’ pregnancy with her first child, the album addresses family relationships, friendship, romantic love, vulnerability, and death, as well as “the hope that can still be girded underneath despair” and “the pain of letting someone go and allowing them to make their own decisions, even when you feel it is harming them,” as she puts it. “Basically, a lot of life lessons that come up when you enter your 30s.”
Parenting is a central theme throughout the album: “Ophelia” was written for a friend who lost her daughter, “Endless Love” is a love song to Schlabs’ own son, and “Don’t Look Too Close” is about not wanting your children to see your dark or dysfunctional side.
“Being pregnant, I naturally did a lot more reflection, as well as thinking of the future and what I wanted to pass down. I think that probably led to more honest songwriting,” she says. “I’m exploring the tension of being the best you can for your kid or loved one and knowing you’re a flawed human who is going to fuck up. You realize it was the same with your own parents and loved ones. There is a parallel line there that is interesting to me.”
The album features slow, gentle melodies, layered vocals and guitars, and indie and pop sensibilities combined with Schlabs’ usual Americana style; she says that bands like Big Thief and The War on Drugs influenced the sound. The instrumentals include Caleb Hickman on saxophone and Joshua Rogers, Schlabs’ husband, on bass.
“This time, I was able to see the studio as an instrument to experiment with,” she adds. “I wasn’t afraid to try things like running my vocal mic through a guitar amp.”
The Nashville-based artist’s other passion is cooking; she used to have her own catering business and wrote songs between food prep. Nowadays, her Patreon is dedicated to music, recipes, and even music-recipe pairings.
Schlabs is currently working on creating a home studio as she writes more songs. In the meantime, her music serves as a reminder for those of us stuck at home to believe in better days ahead, and to cherish the people we’re stuck with.
Follow Natalie Schlabs on Facebook for ongoing updates.
While Nashville stands as the capital of country music, there are countless artists who prove it’s sacred ground for all genres. The Foxies are one example, with their self-described “goth disco” and “glitter punk” infusion establishing them as a noteworthy player in Nashville’s underground music scene.
Frontwoman Julia Bullock rose to fame with her audition on season two of the U.S. version of The X Factor in 2012. She formed the Nashville-based band The Foxies in 2014 after joining forces with guitarist Jake Ohlbaum, Rob Bodley on drums and former bassist Kyle Talbot. The trio pulls from a dynamic blend of alt-rock, funk-pop and disco to create infectious melodies and tongue-in-cheek lyrics that demonstrate how Nashville’s artistry expands far beyond the horizon of country music. As Bullock boasts a look that draws to mind Paramore’s Hayley Williams, matched with a voice like that of Gwen Stefani, the group has crafted a sound with a lighter, more playful attitude.
The trio is set to release a new six-song EP, Growing Up is Dead, on May 29th. Bullock declares herself as a proud “Anti Socialite” on the EP’s opening track, inviting her friends to the party in her head while “sipping on Capri Sun” to get a hit of ’90s nostalgia. Meanwhile, “Call Me When Your Phone Dies,” described as an “ode to the fuck boys,” sticks it to a disappointing lover before the screaming “Neon Thoughts” dishes out a healthy dose of electronic disco. The projects ends on a groove with “Deep Sea Diver,” Bullock’s mystifying vocals layered over a pop-rock beat.
The Foxies have released a pair of EPs, 2016’s Oblivion and Battery in 2019, along with singles like the thumping, reggae-like “Be Afraid Boy” that appeared in an episode of the CW’s 2018 reboot of Charmed. They’ve also graced a range of stages from LGBTQ-friendly The Lipstick Lounge in East Nashville to Bonnaroo Festival and South by Southwest. The intoxicating air of The Foxies’ dreamy synth pop melodies sound like they were plucked out of L.A. and transported to Music City. Mixing this ethereal sound with a rock edge and a punk attitude, The Foxies breathe new life into Nashville’s underrated pop scene. They support this diverse mix with equally vibrant imagery of neon colors and quirky music videos reminiscent of the ’80s, but with a modern twist.
Comparing rock music to that of a slumbering bear, Bullock declares that The Foxies hope to awaken the beast with their new project – and we have no doubt they’re up to the task.
Follow The Foxies on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Many people currently quarantined without a partner are feeling their singlehood extra strongly right now, and that can be both a liberating thing and a lonely thing. Singer-songwriter Bryce Drew explores both aspects of the single life in her music, but her song “21” focuses on the lonely side.
“When I was younger, it all seemed so simple / Thought meeting someone was inevitable / I’m not talking diamond rings / Just looking for someone who gets me,” Drew sings candidly, about making it to 21 without ever being in love.
The rest of her songs share the same relatable, conversational lyrics and mellow sound, inviting the listener into her life as she tells little bits of stories like “I thought I found my dream apartment / With all I ever wanted, turned out / It could’ve been a closet” (“Lucky Number”) and “I have an entire queen bed to myself / I don’t have to share the covers with someone else” (“Love Life”). Her videos have the same effect, showing vignettes of what the viewer could imagine as her life, or even as their own lives.
For the release of the video for “21,” we talked to her about the inspiration behind her songs and her path to becoming a musician.
AF: Tell me about your musical background and how you got where you are today.
BD: I’ve been singing my entire life. I was obsessed with music as a kid, memorized every word to every song in every movie. I was pretty shy when it came to singing in front of other people, though, so I joined the choir. That’s how I got my start on stage. I went on to attend music magnet programs for middle and high school and picked up the guitar on my own at 16.
Sixteen was a year full of loss for my family and I, and my first songs came out of coping with that loss. It was then that I really realized the power of music and the level of passion I had for it. A few years later, I moved to Nashville to study songwriting at Belmont University. My four years there were spent building my craft, writing every day, playing, and going to as many shows as possible. I was on a writing trip to LA a year after graduating when I found myself in Greg Wells’ [Adele/Katy Perry/One Republic producer] studio. I played him three of my songs, and he said, “Let’s make a record.” So I jumped at the opportunity, moved to LA a few months later, and began recording. And that’s what you’re hearing now. “21” was the first song I played for Greg that day.
AF: What inspired the song “21”?
BD: I wrote “21” in college on a night I called all my friends to meet up and they were all out on dates. I think it just hit me that everyone around me seemed to have found some version of love, and I was still waiting. The song to me is about patience, expectations, acceptance, and the frustration that naturally comes with those things. The age “21” is a standout one to me because it’s the age my parents were when they first met, and the age most of my favorite artists were on their first records about love and heartbreak, so I guess I always had a vision for where I’d be romantically by then.
AF: What was the concept behind the video?
BD: The video was filmed in my apartment and on one of my favorite beaches in Malibu, Zuma. I am from Miami, Florida, with a Trinidadian background, so I’m sure you can guess that the ocean is an important place to me. It’s where I run to process life and emotions. So, the concept is me venting to the ocean, asking for patience and understanding in love.
AF: A lot of people can probably relate to the idea of expecting to find love by a certain age and then not having that happen. What would be your advice for other people in that situation?
BD: Comparison kills. It’s also natural. Allow yourself to feel, but remember that we all are on our own path. Try and enjoy your life where you are at as much as you can and let it unfold as it does.
AF: How does your song “Love Life” relate to this subject?
BD: “Love Life” is the sister song to “21”! It’s about me deciding to let go and enjoy my life being single in the meantime, making it clear that I’m not just sitting around waiting.
AF: What about your song “Lucky Number” — was there a particular experience that inspired that?
BD: “Lucky Number” was inspired by my move to LA. I was having the hardest time finding a place to live but was constantly seeing my lucky number everywhere. As difficult as the move was, it felt right in my gut, and that thing was my surefire reminder.
AF: The entire writing, recording, mixing and mastering process for “Lucky Number” was documented in an 11-part web series—what was the process like?
BD: It was crazy! Writing and recording are two really vulnerable things, and I’d never had a film crew in the studio before. It was nerve-wracking and exciting at once. I am so glad we have the process filmed to look back on because it was the first song Greg and I wrote together and the first song I ever released as an artist. On top of that, so many got to watch the song unfold and feel like they were a part of the process. Special stuff.
AF: What was it like to study songwriting, and how does that influence your music today?
BD: Studying songwriting was everything I needed as an 18-year-old with three songs in her pocket. I am a total music nerd and could talk about songwriting forever, so getting to break down lyric, melody, and song structure with my friends was right up my alley. It taught me a lot about how to navigate when I get stuck in a bit of a block. My professors used to speak about “keeping the antenna up” for lyric starts, and I find myself searching for inspiration everywhere I can because of that practice. It also taught me that a small edit can make a song a whole lot better and prepared me to be open to criticism.
AF: What are you working on now?
BD: I am currently editing the next music video! I am also writing for a bigger project to come. It feels nice to finally have music out and be able to connect with everyone through it. So, staying connected and building my audience is a big focus right now, too.
AF: What are your future aspirations down the line?
BD: When we can again, I want to tour! Internationally! With a full band! Have a fashion line. Make multiple full albums… create a world. I got dreams. This is just the start of them.
Follow Bryce Drew on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Brandi Carlile crossed a music threshold when she made her headlining debut at Madison Square Garden in 2019, the folk music visionary watching a seemingly out-of-reach dream come to life before her eyes.
The legendary venue chronicled Carlile’s journey to the stage with a two-part, four-minute series titled “Road to the Garden” that offers viewers a glimpse inside Carlile’s perspective as she prepares for the once-in-a-lifetime experience.
https://youtu.be/XItfsK4xo3Y
Ever the eloquent speaker, Carlile is introspective as she describes what this coveted opportunity means to her. “I am a visualizer and I’ve visualized some really big things in my life. But this might’ve actually been outside of my imagination,” she explains in a voice over that opens the mini-doc, capturing the final moments before she walks on stage. MSG completes the holy trinity of New York venues that artists dream of performing in, including Radio City Music Hall and Beacon Theatre. Carlile remarks that taking the stage at the pair of other iconic institutions felt like climbing to the top of the career ladder. But the only way she could see headlining the Garden was in an “abstract sense.”
“I just wanted us to be on a really monumental stage some day. But this feels really profound to me,” the Grammy Award winner reflects as her longtime collaborators Phil and Tim Hanseroth (known as “the twins”), sit nearby on the bus, making their way to the Garden. Shots of Carlile and the twins walking on a custom red carpet that boasts her logo, leading them into the venue are among the memorable moments featured, along with a photo of the marquee advertising the show, which Phil refers to as a “We Are the Champions” type moment.
https://youtu.be/aqEl4uHOSus
Part two of the video series shares footage from rehearsal, Carlile playing to an empty arena that will later be filled with thousands of fans, the singer laser-focused on giving them a high caliber show. She delivered on that promise and was clearly in her element on the massive stage as she proclaims to the capacity crowd “I am home,” a declaration that’s met with boisterous cheers of approval. Viewers listen in as she belts such signature songs as “The Joke,” her powerful voice soaring into the rafters. “There is not a nerdy little outcast with a guitar in the world that doesn’t dream of what I’m seeing right now,” she professes as the camera scans the packed house of roaring patrons, delighting in the set that included guest appearances by Mavis Staples and Carlile’s supergroup, The Highwomen.
While fans get to witness an awe-inspiring moment in Carlile’s life, they also watch her convey the humble mentality that got her there. “I would say love is my driving force. Love and forgiveness, radical positivity,” she manifests. “I hope that people leave here a little more willing to express themselves freely and believe that a stage like Madison Square Garden is not unattainable for any of us – because it wasn’t for me.”
“I’m not ready for the big time, baby,” sings indie-folk artist Lesley Barth on “Lower East Side,” the opening track of her forthcoming sophomore album, Big Time Baby. Having co-produced the album with Joe Michelini from the band American Trappist, the follow-up to Barth’s 2017 debut LP Green Hearts may prove otherwise when it arrives May 15th. The album explores themes of vulnerability and isolation, and details different paths for rebuilding your life and unmasking your true self along the way. We are excited to premiere her second single off the album, “Nashville,” exclusively on Audiofemme.
“It was empowering to find out what the songs require, and have much more of a hand in the vision of the songs this time around,” Barth says, when I ask what it was like to help produce the album. As we talked, her husband and fellow musician Chuck Ramsey is playing music on the other side of their New York apartment, where they’ve lived for the past nine years. They met when they both lived in Philadelphia and were teaching music lessons, which Lesley still does, although virtually these days. “There’s an energy and hustle to New York that we love – it’s easy to be a creative person here. People take you seriously.”
Her first seven years in New York were spent at a corporate job, relying on its predictability and stability while also trying to fit writing and playing music into her schedule. Struggling to balance full-time work and creative side projects led her to reconsider if she was “in a place where I needed to be.” Barth had a weighty decision she needed to make, and didn’t really “have a plan at all” other than wanting to move toward music as her full-time career path. She was facing the great fear that tries to prevent anyone from changing, and yet she was able to boldly follow a sink-or-swim mentality: “If you build yourself a boat, you’re going to go back to the mainland. But if you don’t build the boat, you’ll figure it out on the island.” Trading an office for a stage has paid off for her, as she’s built up her audience in an incremental fashion. Her connection with her listeners has grown in many ways in the past few years, including through her Patreon community, where she has shared original songs and offered monthly virtual concerts since 2017.
One of the unique ways she challenged herself during this transitional time in her career was to write thirty songs in thirty days to celebrate her thirtieth birthday. “Nashville” was one of the songs that survived the experiment, and became one of her favorites to play live. The narrative is based on a guy her husband had played music with in New York, who was “playing cover guitar at this late night bar/with his drawl and his cowboy hat” – longing to play country songs, but not quite bold enough to express his true self in a noisy East-coast bar. “He bought a leather jacket to try and blend in/but his steel-toed boots and sadness gave him up,” Barth continues, as the song complements this tension by moving from finger-picked acoustic guitar into a more full-band sound with synthy drums and strings. As Barth spent more time with this song, she realized that its narrative also applied to herself, and how out of place she felt in the corporate world. It helped her to make that final leap into the unknown experience of being her own boss.
Barth released her first single from Big Time Baby, “Woman Looking Back at Me,” a few weeks ago, which also delves into the search for an authentic self-image, but through a lulling, jangly disco beat. She wrote this after “trying to detach a bit from my inner critic and figure out who is living rent-free in my head.” Especially during this strange time, with the external world quieted down, many of us have been compelled to examine the internal, less pretty parts of ourselves. It can be disorienting to deal with all of our fractured selves while also just trying to exist. Barth encourages us to approach this task through a mode of curiosity rather than judgment: “And I’ve looked at this square so long/just thinking it’s a triangle/And I’ve looked at my face so long/craning my neck for the right angle/But who is the woman looking back/at the woman looking back at me?”
The album as a whole explores what it means to be vulnerable, to take emotional and vocational risks, and to trust yourself to be able to deal with the uncertainty and hurt that comes from living in an imperfect world. Barth’s strong, clear voice shines through, mostly showcased by sparse, jazzy instrumentation. “If love doesn’t change you/then loneliness will” she sings midway through the album, before moving on in “Making Decisions” to propose that loving someone is the ultimate proof that free will exists, that you have to choose it every day. And that having the stability of being partnered with someone who also makes that choice can help sustain you when the rest of your choices seem scary or painful.
These songs are mostly monologues, but transition into a duet with Ramsey in the energetic pop song “Preacher,” which Barth says was the last song they recorded in the studio. It definitely has a celebratory feel, which may seem strange for a break-up song, where both sides of the story examine their infatuation with each other, then merge their nostalgic thoughts in the chorus to see if they match up. “Thought I saw you yesterday/but it was just some guy preaching on the train/interrupting the peace of weary commuters” vividly describes the way you can see a glint of something in any stranger’s face that reminds you of a person you’ve lost, even if it’s a version of that person that only exists in your mind.
Like most musicians right now, Barth has had to re-calibrate the way she operates, most likely having to cancel the summer tour for this album, as well as an album release show she’d planned. When I asked how she’s coping with this new altered reality, she says, “It’s like watching a natural disaster in slow motion. And there’s no time or space to grieve, because people normally grieve by coming together. But I’ve been listening to a lot of my friends’ music, it helps me feel close to them.” She said this transition to solely playing music online “has been super strange, and will probably only get stranger” in the days ahead, but that she’s been brainstorming creative solutions in looking for ways to celebrate her accomplishments anyway.
This positive mindset ties in to the album closer, “Something Good,” which she says “empowers us to allow ourselves to feel good and to make good choices even within a tough situation.” It challenges us to take a chance and, instead of wallowing in our flaws, to choose to focus on happiness instead. It can be a lot easier to give others advice to be patient with themselves than to follow that advice in your own life, but the song encourages us not to lose hope and to honor each milestone crossed along the way.
“It feels weird releasing music right now, but it would feel weird doing anything. So it also feels nice to have something to offer up to people,” Barth says. As she began to share singles from album, Barth says she realized that “perfectionism is irrelevant. It’s also impossible right now – there’s no rulebook anymore. We’re all creating our own rules.” All the characters and versions of self in the album seem to agree, and they give us directions about how we might navigate the unknown days ahead in a gentler headspace.
Follow Lesley Barth on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Ali Thibodeau had a moment of clarity the day of her grandmother’s funeral. She and her brother Michael had been drinking margaritas all day to cope with the loss. On top of everything, Ali was still reeling from the cancellation of SXSW; her musical project Deau Eyes was about to head from Richmond, Virginia to Austin for the event, along with a few more tour dates to celebrate the release of her debut on EggHunt Records, Let It Leave. Sidelined by the impending pandemic and mourning all at once, she turned to her brother and said, “I’m gonna make a full video album.” The two spent the rest of the day coming up with ideas they could execute as the quarantine descended, like flying an enormous paper airplane off a hill. “We’re just doing these kind of outrageous, giant crafts that we don’t really know how to do, but we’re making it work and it’s turning out to be one of the truest-to-vision pieces I’ve ever done,” Thibodeau says. “Without that, I have no idea how I would cope with any of this at all.”
One of those videos, premiering today on Audiofemme, is for a song called “Full Proof,” one of the grungier cuts on Let It Leave, with jagged guitars and confrontational vocals that range from bourbon-sweet falsetto to hungover growl. There’s an latent rage to the song, which Thibodeau wrote while processing the sadness, frustration, and anger of bitter heartache. “It’s like the stages of grief, you know?” Thibodeau remembers. “I’ve kind of been feeling that in this time as well – it’s funny how songs transcend different time frames in your life. They just keep becoming more and more alive and carrying so many different stories.”
For the visual, which perfectly recalls the angsty aesthetic of ’90s MTV with its cross fades and chaos, Thibodeau started collecting free stuff from Facebook Marketplace that she could basically destroy: and oven, a television, a re-painted piñata. At one point she even smashes a guitar – while her brother, an actor and playwright whose love of film, Ali says, made him a natural director, filmed it all. It feels spontaneous, but even Thibodeau’s outfit was fully-thought-out symbolism.
“Writing for me has always been a tool in transitional periods in my life,” Thibodeau says. “‘Full Proof’ was written at a time when I was feeling like I was starting to become a fuller version of myself, like this phoenix.” Toxic people in her life once made her feel small, but “aggravated the beast” in the process – so that’s what Thibodeau becomes in the video, mixed with a little of Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” “I wanted to represent that, so I just like, made more denim fringe and put it on the back of my jacket, and teased up my hair, and my makeup’s gonna be more dramatic and I’m gonna be a little bit madder.”
The costuming goes deeper, too, than simply representing Thibodeau’s metamorphosis. “There’s lots of Easter Eggs throughout these videos,” she hints, noting that the words bedazzled on her t-shirt are actually lyrics from “Paper Stickers,” another song that will appear on Let It Leave. It’s all meant to tie the videos together thematically, even if the songs on album rarely remain faithful to a single genre. “Parallel Time” is a wistful acoustic ballad about appreciating lingering memories, no matter how painful; “Dear Young Love” builds to ecstatic pop rock, and will get a one-take dance-oriented video; “Some Do,” boasts a twangy swagger that Thibodeau picked up while singing country music covers on a cruise ship somewhere between Alabama and Mexico.
It was in unlikely places like this that Thibodeau found her voice over and over again – from writing diaristic songs as a form of therapy in her bedroom as a teenager – ones she never wanted anyone to hear and says she “forgot about” as soon as she finished singing them – to busking in the New York City subways when musical theater auditions proved to be soul crushing. As formative as these experiences were, it was three important lifelong friendships that would become instrumental in bringing her solo debut to fruition, once she returned to Richmond: Jacob Blizard and Collin Pastore — known for their work on Illuminati Hotties’ Kiss Yr Frenemies and Lucy Dacus’ No Burden and Historian — came on as producers and helped her complete the tracks that would complete Let It Leave, while Dacus herself encouraged Thibodeau every step of the way.
“We grew up together and she was kind of the person that I would play my songs for, if I ever played them for anybody. She was like the only other person that I knew that wrote songs,” Thibodeau says of Dacus, who had signed to Matador just as Thibodeau was contemplating her next move. “Every time I’d get coffee with her she would always just be like ‘I think it’s time you moved back.’ Finally, after like four or five visits back home, I decided to, and I’m so glad that I did because I’ve been submerged into this incredible, loving, accepting community that’s so generous. That’s kind of where I started to really build these songs.” When it came time to finish the record, Dacus, Blizard, and Pastore encouraged Thibodeau to come on a weekend trip to Nashville to record at Trace Horse Studio. “That’s when everything changed,” Thibodeau says. “That was two and a half years ago. I feel like my whole life since then has been completely about this record coming out. It’s wild. I’m so grateful for them, and it’s just really serendipitous that we’re all kind of on the same path and in the same place at the same time. It’s really beautiful.”
Of course, it’s unbelievably disheartening to spend two years leading up to a debut release, only to have it thwarted by an unexpected quarantine. But Thibodeau admits she was “starved for this time to just live and be myself and make the thing I need to make,” though she admits she feels guilt that others are suffering, and has, of course, been grieving herself. But creating the visual element of the album has given these songs a new life, since touring behind the album is unlikely to happen. Thibodeau says she’s in “no rush” to get back on the road and “sleep in people’s basements,” and instead will likely focus on putting out the album and a half’s worth of material she’s written since recording Let It Leave – after she releases some eight more videos for each of its tracks, that is.
Moving on to the next thing, like a shark that has to keep swimming, is in Thibodeau’s blood. Moreso than any one genre, that idea ties Let It Leave together. “This album as a whole, if I could pick one word as a theme, it’s resilience,” Thibodeau says. “I think it’s just [about] knowing that the only thing we can really count on in this life is change, and knowing that we’re gonna be okay through it all, no matter what’s happening, even if it’s heartbreaking.”
When life gives Hollye Bynum lemons, she makes lemonade. Her tart-yet-sweet rock band Razor Braids is all the proof you need; it didn’t really come together until a minor head injury sidelined the operatically-trained singer, forcing a recovery slow enough she had time to teach herself to play bass. Not long after, the current lineup began to solidify: first came guitarists Janie Peacock (a friend of Bynum’s old flame) and Jilly Karande (who jokes she joined the band “accidentally”), with drummer Hannah Nichols taking a seat behind the kit after her short-lived band Space Bitch shared a stage with Razor Braids at Punk Island. The quartet has played dozens of shows in Brooklyn venues, but hadn’t put anything to tape until recently, when they released their debut single “Nashville” on pink cassette with b-side “I Am.”
Now, Bynum and her crew find themselves with a pile of lemons again, as the Corona quarantine squashed everything they’d planned to promote “Nashville” – the release show at Baby’s All Right, the weekender tour, the dream of recording follow-up singles, shooting a glam video in dreamy upstate digs. But not even a pandemic could put a stop to their momentum; Razor Braids kept going. They turned their release show into a full-day event, where each member got to show off aspects of what they bring to the band: Bynum did a makeup tutorial; Peacock, who designs all the band’s posters and merch, drew personalized pictures for fans; Karande played covers that put her lovely back-up vocals front and center; Nichols, who’s a master barber by day, offered much-needed DIY haircut tips. And now, there’s a video for “Nashville” too. It may not be what Razor Braids had dreamed of – filmed over Zoom due to social distancing and edited in iMovie, it’s not exactly big budget – but it’s still silly, sexy, and ultra-endearing, a distracting little gem of a daydream, just like the song itself.
“It was tough to be so close to something that was exciting and that we had planned [but] we got right down to business once we knew everything was not gonna happen,” Bynum says. “I still wanted to honor the song and the hard work that we had put into it and I still wanted people to hear it – actually more so than before. I wanted it to provide some sort of sweet escape or momentary calm or fun or whatever the case may be.” Bynum built her “Nashville” lyrics from a series of sentimental vignettes, fleeting moments with a lover cropping up across each verse like over-exposed party-goers caught in Polaroid flashes. In her honeyed croon, Bynum confesses she “could live forever in that moment” when playing music, talking shit, and smoking weed with a crush leads to a spontaneous kiss.
The video, though, is more about the love and admiration Razor Braids have for each other. If you haven’t dressed up for a Zoom dance party with your besties to blow off a little steam, what have you even been doing in lockdown? The band employs the same monochromatic pastel outfit scheme they’ve been known to sport on stage (sort of like Powerpuff Girls playing really good rock music). Their aesthetic, they all agree, is an important component of Razor Braids, even if it’s mostly meant to up their entertainment value. “It’s feminine and nostalgic but also contemporary,” Bynum explains. Certainly, it’s hard to feel bummed when confronted with daisies, roller blades, glitter, and a candy-colored palette that would make Lisa Frank proud, but it’s the music itself that feels truly mollifying.
“The context of now has kind of enhanced the message and the meaning behind the song,” Peacock says. “It was already a feel good song before all of this happened. You listen to the song and reminisce. It’s a good distraction from what’s going on and a great way to feel like you’re a part of something, so it was interesting releasing it during this time.”
Karande says they often start off their shows with “Nashville,” because it helps the band find their groove. “‘Nashville’ is just one of those songs that feels like home base for all of us. It’s something that sets a tone – upbeat and positive and a fun way to introduce us that feels good to play live.”
Developing their songs in a live setting has given the band confidence to re-approach them, too, with a newfound collaborative spirit, one Nichols says she truly appreciates. “It’s hard to be creative if you don’t feel comfortable, like you can’t open up to the people you’re playing with,” she says. “Having been in several bands and seeing what works and what doesn’t, I feel like being in Razor Braids is a really nice balance of feeling like I have the freedom to write my own drum parts and express myself and also have plenty of material to work with.”
“When things are right, they flow,” Hollye adds. “It felt like something was kind of unlocked within myself by being with this group of women. Songwriting comes more easily to me. Playing my instrument, seeing things in a different way.”
For now, Razor Braids are doing what they can to preserve that magic long-distance, until it’s safe to return to some sense of normalcy, or at least their practice space. “We’ve been trying to capture that energy and positivity and just kind of meet the world where it’s at right now, trying our hand with recording stuff individually and seeing if we can piece together some little demos and things – just kind of figuring it out and trying to do it with excitement and energy,” Karande says. “That, I think, is very emblematic of who Razor Braids is.”
Follow Razor Braids on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Nashville is known for being a giving community, a gift that’s often expressed through music. As the world grapples with the jarring reality of COVID-19, many artists continue to share music as a source of healing, including many of Nashville’s finest. Whether releasing original songs or delivering powerful covers that provide light during these dark times, here are some standout musical tributes from the country music community.
Ashley McBryde stuns with “Amazing Grace” at the Ryman Auditorium
The Ryman Auditorium has been a sacred place since its inception in 1892, but Ashley McBryde brought an especially harrowing energy to the venue with her performance of “Amazing Grace” in honor of those we’ve lost due to COVID-19. McBryde’s voice on its own is incredible, but pairing it with the spirit of the Ryman takes it to a whole other level. McBryde was so overcome with emotion that it took seven times to get the performance right – and that emotion pours through on screen. As she stands on the stage solo in the hallowed venue, her voice fills the room in a way that’s bound to bring a tear to one’s eye.
“Some things just can’t be healed. Some losses can’t be reconciled and some wounds will never heal. Sometimes we don’t get closure the way we want to. All we can do is honor our predecessors and hope that we touch the hem of heaven sometime in our lives. I wouldn’t normally sing this song but we all may need this right now and there isn’t a better place to sing it at than the Ryman,” she writes about the experience. “The mother church pulls things like that out of you and will tell you what to sing and when to sing it…even if you can’t.”
Brandi Carlile covers John Prine’s “Hello in There”
The music world lost a true pioneer when John Prine passed away due to complications from COVID-19 on April 7. Many artists paid tribute to the iconic folksmith in the wake of his passing, but Carlile’s cover of “Hello in There” on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert demonstrates a sense of empathy the world needs right now. Creating a simple stage on the staircase next to a fireplace, Carlile’s performance is touching, connecting Prine’s lyrics, penned in 1971, to modern day. Her voice soars over his poetic words that prompt us to truly see one another, especially in times of loneliness. But her introduction to the song is just as urgent, encouraging viewers to respect older generations and the impact they have on our lives. “This song refers to the people that we’re all staying home to protect and it reminds us that older people aren’t expendable, that they made us who we are and they’ve given us every single thing that we have,” she prefaced, offering a grounding perspective alongside the beautiful tribute.
Thomas Rhett is a “Light”
Thomas Rhett brings heartfelt meaning into his new song, “Be a Light.” Rhett originally wrote the song in 2019 as a response to the divisiveness he was witnessing in the world, but decided to release it now as a sign of encouragement during these trying times. Combining the soothing nature of a lullaby with the power of compassion, Rhett called on his friends and fellow superstars Reba McEntire, Keith Urban, Hillary Scott of Lady Antebellum and Chris Tomlin to help deliver the timely message. With such lyrics as “In a time full of war be peace/In a place that needs change make a difference/In a time full of noise just listen/In a world full of hate be a light,” he presents us with sobering advice that’s important to keep at heart even after the pandemic passes.
“We are in the middle of a world-wide pandemic affecting every single human on earth, all while our town of Nashville is still healing from devastating tornadoes that destroyed so much of our city less than one month ago. But, among the wreckage, I see us come together in ways I never dreamed possible,” Rhett expressed about the uplifting track upon its release. “I hope this song serves as a reminder that we are all in this together.”
He also dedicated “Be a Light” to a new program called Gratitunes that sees artists and fans donating songs to a playlist streamed to the medical professionals at Vanderbilt University Medical Center as they work tirelessly to save lives.
Keith Urban’s live streams
Keith Urban is one of the many artists who has hosted virtual concerts during this era of social distancing, but it’s the heart of his shows that make them stand out. Urban has delivered two sets performing many of his biggest hits, and one of the best aspects about them is his wife Nicole Kidman. Between serving as his guitar tech and sole audience member who dances around the room thoroughly enjoying life, there’s a sense of joy that shines through with Kidman’s presence. Additionally, Urban always makes a point to recognize healthcare workers in his broadcasts. “All of you first responders out there, all of the families of all of you and your friends that are supporting you through this time, we are right here with you, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts,” he vows. “Our whole family thanks you for everything that you are sacrificing and doing right now.”
Brad Paisley keeps the laughter flowing on Instagram
Since the quarantine began, Brad Paisley’s Instagram has become a holy ground of humorous musings. Between recording virtual duets with Carrie Underwood, Tim McGraw and Darius Rucker and posting cover videos, scrolling through Paisley’s Instagram is likely to put a smile on your face during these somber days. Paisley has also contributed to the Gratitunes program with an acoustic version of his hit “Southern Comfort Zone” that he used to thank all of the healthcare workers on the front lines during the pandemic. But perhaps his most noteworthy effort is that he and wife Kimberly Williams-Paisley have set up a special grocery delivery service for the elderly and those in need through their nonprofit, The Store – one of the many ways the Nashville community continues to give back.
Country music will also be represented in the upcoming global virtual event, “One World: Together at Home” in support of healthcare workers around the world. Urban, Kacey Musgraves, Maren Morris and Lady Antebellum will perform during the online broadcast that benefits the World Health Organization’s COVID-19 Solidarity Response Fund. It will air on major TV networks and stream online on April 18.
Stephanie Lambring spent the bulk of her music career as a songwriter at BMG and Carnival Records, writing four songs that appeared on Nashville and others for artists like Andrew Combs, Hailey Whitters, and Mary Bragg. But she soon got tired of the “machine-like approach to writing” and of muting her dreams of singing her own songs.
Hoping to write and perform her own music without worrying about whether her songs were “too jarring or too sad,” she left Carnival a year early. One song that came out of Lambring’s newfound solo career is “Mr. Wonderful,” an exploration of controlling and possessive relationship dynamics.
Lambring’s songwriting background is evident in her poetic and evocative lyrics. “So you met Mr. Wonderful / Isn’t he wonderful? / You thought you had it all / ‘Til it all had you,” opens the haunting track off her second album, Autonomy, to be released on October 23. “Every day gets harder to crawl out of the confusion / Red flag anger, good behavior / Which is the illusion?” You can hear country influences in the vocals, and the music’s pop structure makes the story Lambring tells seem almost eerie.
“A lot of this song comes from my personal experience in a controlling relationship several years ago. Other pieces were gleaned from friends’ experiences in their verbally and/or physically abusive relationships,” she says. “Before my experience, I had no idea about the complexity of the dynamic of an abusive relationship. I simply thought I would never be ‘that girl.’ Well, I was. We need to raise awareness about the red flags and have more candid conversations. It’s more common than we think.”
Lambring released her first album, Lonely to Alone, her senior year of college. BBC2 radio presenter Bob Harris played the album’s eponymous track on his Saturday night program, leading to several UK tours. “I had a bit of momentum going, but I put my artist path on the backburner. I wasn’t ready for it yet,” says Lambring.
She describes her new album as “a deep dive into the human experience,” tackling body image, sexuality, religion, and family relationships. She wrote the first track, “Daddy’s Disappointment,” while she was waiting tables, and songwriter Tom Douglas challenged her to start writing music again. In it, she explores the impact of growing up with overcritical parents, as well as the pressure to make music based on profit rather than passion.
Each song, in its own way, is about questioning and breaking free from tradition to carve out one’s own path. “Joy of Jesus” deals with slut-shaming and homophobia in Christian communities, “Fine” validates the choices of single, childfree women, and “Little White Lie” portrays the dissolution of a marriage driven more by external pressures than fading love.
“I enjoy exploring the uncomfortable places — the uncensored, raw truths inside us,” she says. “The thoughts and feelings we’ve learned we ‘shouldn’t’ express, not to mention even have. It’s healing for me to sit with the discomfort, lean into it, shed some light on it, and in the end feel a little less alone in it.”
Follow Stephanie Lambring on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Gatlin Thornton is on a spiritual journey, one you can follow along with through her music.
The Nashville based artist, who goes by the stage name Gatlin, describes herself as a “toned down Maggie Rogers,” layering modern pop production with folk lyrics, her ethereal voice draped over mystifying melodies of soft, thumping drums and guitar.
Gatlin walked a winding road trying to decipher what genre suited her style best. She initially gravitated toward Christian Contemporary, inspired by years she spent singing in church choir. In high school, a cowboy boot-wearing phase heralded a shift toward country music. Now, the 21-year-old’s newfound love is that of modern folk-pop, a niche she discovered upon moving to Nashville, a city that’s had a profound impact not only on her musical direction, but her personal journey.
Gatlin relocated from her native Orlando, Florida to Nashville in 2017 to study religion and the arts at Belmont University, but after two years, she quit and became a songwriter full time. She got a taste of the city’s pop scene when she began working with a diverse range of songwriters, proving to the longtime pop snob that she doesn’t have a distaste for all pop music – in fact, she has a gift for creating her own style of the genre. “That time in my life, I learned the most because I was writing with someone new every day,” she tells Audiofemme via phone interview.
Coming from a Christian background, stepping into the diverse Nashville culture broadened Gatlin’s horizons, causing her to challenge the conservative ideals she was raised on. “I got out of my little bubble and I realized that things aren’t so black and white. I went through this huge doubting phase. I am a Christian, but it looks a lot different,” she professes. “It’s a spiritual journey now. I’m trying to figure out a lot of stuff and I feel like that comes through in some of my lyrics.” She addresses this point head on in her song “Curly Hair” as she sings, “and I love Jesus, but he’s busy upstairs, and I’m a first world nothing.”
“I think everyone’s on their journey, and growing up super conservative Christian, it wasn’t okay that it was a journey, you had to have it all figured out,” she continues. “Where I land, I still think God is real, I just don’t think everything is so black and white, I think it’s pretty gray and it’s different for each person. I think I’m trying to figure out the normal things people believe as far as religion and Christians go. I don’t have an answer for literally any of it – [I’m] just figuring out as I go what is true for me.”
Gatlin takes listeners on this journey, exemplified in her latest track, “I Think About You All the Time.” Co-written with friend Victoria Bigelow, the song is based on Gatlin’s experience being a relationship where feelings developed on her end, but not her partner’s. The video captures this sentiment through a dark red hue cast over scenes of Gatlin surrounded by friends as they enjoy life, yet she’s lost in a daze of sadness and confusion.
“With this relationship, I literally could not enjoy parties with my friends, because my mind was trying to figure this relationship out,” she describes. “Then the moments when I would be alone was when I would freak the fuck out, and so I wanted to feel that juxtaposition.” Gatlin took control of the situation and told the other person how she felt, which liberated her from the toxic dynamic. “I realized there’s more power in admitting that you have feelings if you do. It’s always looked at as weak, but me admitting ‘I think about you all the time,’ there was so much power in that,” she expresses. “It was a very healing process.”
Gatlin is currently working on an EP, planning to drop each song as a single throughout the year leading up to the EP’s release. As she walks the path that’s shaping her identity, Gatlin will continue to take fans along for the ride through her art. “I’ve learned that God is love and it’s so much more of an emphasis of that. We are supposed to love others,” she says of the most important discovery she’s made thus far. “I physically look different and also my insides look different every six months because I’m 21, I’m in such a changing time of my life.”
Survivors of abuse are too often portrayed as victims: quiet, sullen, spoken for. But Nashville-based melodic metal duo Friendship Commanders seeks to rewrite that narrative with their latest EP Hold On To Yourself, in which the band confronts abuse, abusers, and familial complacency with the timidity of a razor blade.
Buick Audra’s voice will make even the most metal-adverse listener into a fan. Her powerful vocals battle against drummer Jerry Roe’s relentless hammer of a drumbeat from the opening wail of “The Enemy I Know.” The song is a crack in a doorway, letting the listener into a private conversation between the female voice and an elderly relative; as memories of the event in question are broken down, the recurring mantra “I’m not your enemy” morphs from a plea for truth to statement of fact.
The band is as unrelenting live as they are recorded. The tension between Audra’s words and Roe’s actions translate beautifully throughout Hold On To Yourself; on songs like “Among Monsters,” the music winds to a point of no release, building to the moment Audra asks the listener “Can you imagine a world where you feel okay?” It’s a question without an answer for those who have survived abuse, only to carry the scars physically and mentally.
While the EP often plays with the balance of vulnerable lyrics and aggressive sounds, some songs are an all-out confrontation. On “Anywhere (From The Nameless Bride)” Audra challenges a male character with the repeated question “How’s your ego doing?” That Audra’s voice is so strong, resilient, insistent on expressing power is a statement in and of itself; the real world, where women are too often spoken down to and degraded, begins to seem like a bad dream in the wake of its force. “Tuxedo Means Wolf (Redux)” carries on the feeling of a mantra, a chant, a sacred formula for healing; it gives the listener an outlet for their rage, a steady stream to jump into and cool off. “July’s Revelations” finishes the EP with a clear, sweet message of self-love and self-possession: “I don’t want to hold your feet to the fire / I just want to hold on to myself.”
“Our culture tends to diminish survivors’ voices instead of amplifying them,” Audra said in a statement about the band’s work. “But I want to be loud about it. Survival isn’t neat. Neither is being abandoned or gaslighted about what happened. Truth is not the enemy. It’s just truth.”
Listen to AudioFemme’s exclusive stream of Hold On To Yourself and read our interview with Friendship Commanders below.
AF: Your new EP Hold On To Yourself continues Friendship Commanders’ important work of holding space for survivors of abuse. The first track on the album, “The Enemy I Know,” feels so real in its plea for the truth, and its pain in wanting to communicate with the abuser. When you go about writing a song like this, how does it begin? Does a lyric come to mind, or do you play more with a scene or conversation?
BA: I wrote this song, and the first thing I knew about it was the refrain of “I’m not your enemy!” That phrase had been coming up around all kinds of interactions in my personal and public lives. It was the clearest statement I could make when I felt like someone was trying to see me as The Problem. And I want to add that my experience with being an abuse survivor also comes with some communication issues with other members of the story. A lot of people just want things to be easy, and sometimes easy translates to untrue. That’s an additionally painful reality for me, and I’m sure for others. I did write this song in response to a real conversation with a family member who absolutely can’t see me as I am. They have a different lens and there’s nothing I can do about it.
The first part of the song I wrote musically was the riff in the verse, played with octaves on guitar, and I worked the vocal melody out along with it as I went. The chorus came next, and I had what I can only describe as a kind of euphoric response to the chord progression there. It’s not terribly complicated, but it’s also not necessarily common or what you’d expect—I didn’t even expect it. Top to bottom, I think the song took about an hour to write. And I took it to Jerry, who then added what he does to it, and there it was. It was immediately the heaviest song we’d ever played together, musically and lyrically.
I will say this: yelling “I’m not your enemy!” over and over is incredibly cathartic for me. I love to play it live. The part that nearly makes me cry every show is screaming, “I’m still alive!” Because I am, and sometimes it has to be said aloud. Even for me.
AF: As you’ve both toured with such beautifully brutal, heart-wrenching music, have you gotten feedback from other survivors who might find going to your concerts a place of power or release?
BA: Thank you for the very kind words about what we do! We have, over the years, had people give us feedback about how the work connects to them, to their lives. Not yet with “The Enemy I Know,” but with other songs from past records, yes. I’ve also written about watching someone you care about struggle (nearly to death) with addiction issues, about being a woman in scenarios where there are very few other women—and even fewer who will stand with women, and about the side effects (if you will) of being a trauma survivor. That can mean feelings of worthlessness, anger, never really belonging to anything/anyone, and a whole other pile of difficult things. These things resonate because they’re just human realities, whether we’ve all had the same experiences or not. It’s always very telling for me when someone tells me which work of ours they can’t stop listening to.
But this record, I really wanted to shout-out the people who are specifically impacted by abuse. Because the impact is lasting, and I think we need to be having more dialogue about it; making room for it.
JR: I can speak to how the music makes me, and some of my friends and the fans I’ve talked to feel. Our shows are very loud, fast and non-stop. As such, they can be really cathartic and fun. When you combine that with such meaningful and ideal-based music, I think it creates a potent stew that can make you feel quite alive. I know I feel the best I ever feel when we’re playing regularly. It’s very good for my soul. I think the audience can share in that, past however seen and heard the lyrics may make them feel.
AF: How did Friendship Commanders begin? Are you both from Nashville originally?
BA: I’m actually from Miami! And I moved to Nashville from Brooklyn 12 years ago.
JR: I am from Nashville! Born and raised, which is both rare and a very weird thing to be at this current moment in time.
BA: [The band] began as a sort of demo project/experiment. I had written some songs that were different from what I was doing in my solo work, and we decided to record them together and see what it sounded and felt like. We loved it right away, but definitely didn’t take it too seriously until we’d been doing it on and off for a while. I feel like we really became a band in 2015. And even since then, we’re remarkably different. All I can say is the world is a heavy place, and the music seems to be getting heavier in direct response to it. And I love it.
AF: What bands would you cite as influences on your work?
BA: We’re terrible at answering this question. I’m a big rock fan, and also a huge R&B fan. So, those come together for me in soulful rock projects with big vocals like Alice in Chains and Soundgarden. Big influences for me, for sure. I think one of the greatest power metal vocalists of all time is Ann Wilson of Heart. Definitely Ann and Nancy. Rush, for sure. And then like Chaka Khan and Prince. I used to listen to a lot of music that I don’t anymore, but it left its mark.
JR: I came up in a deep culture of classic American music, but my parents and other peers were very keen on what was happening at the time, so I feel like that all influences what I bring to this band. Soundgarden, King Crimson, Voivod, Fishbone… even Metallica and Megadeth were pretty formative to me growing up, but I also absorbed tons of classic country, folk, and roots rock. Elvis Costello, The Band, and a lot of the session greats like Jim Gordon and John Robinson really made me who I am.
AF: The music you make is very focused and the material is heavy, weighted with real-life import. What do you to prepare for a show and how do you unwind after a performance?
BA: So, I have terrible, terrible stage fright. I always have, and likely always will. Getting on stage at all is a whole thing for me, even though I do it all the time. I have a ritual of asking for the music to come through me and find its home with the listeners, to remove my ego from my fear. And I do lots of forward bends before we play (if you’ve ever seen us play, you know this is true), because I find it helps to stabilize my heart rate. I try not to be too social in the room before we play. I can’t really hang.
Weirdly, the gravity of the music and what it’s about is not hard for me to carry. At all. The sentiments and experiences really live in the songs now, so it’s kind of like I just put that on and wear it for 40 minutes, and then I take it off.
After the show, I try not to be too hard on myself, but I can be guilty of that. Like I said above, I struggle with my worth. Sometimes my stage fright makes me feel imperfect and I think everyone is zeroing in on that. They’re probably not, but it feels real. Plus, I’m a woman, so I feel like I’m sometimes watched differently, to see if I’m any good at all. We stay through the rest of the show, hang with people who have come out, and then we try to get quiet immediately after. The show is so physical and expressive, that we don’t even really need to talk to each other at the end of it. Self-care and self-preservation are king for us. We don’t drink or anything either. Water, showers, bed.
JR: I don’t do much to prepare, which may not be smart. I don’t warm up or have any sort of ritual practice or even watch what I eat! I just jump right in, and I’ve always been that way. Granted, I don’t front the band and I’m not baring my soul for the benefit of others in quite the same way Buick is. I feel very comfortable and at home behind the drum kit. It’s when I’m the most normal. Whatever trouble I may feel or experience is more obvious off-stage.
AF: What are your favorite Nashville music venues?
BA: We love Little Harpeth Brewing, also Exit/In, the End, Basement East. We just had tornadoes in middle Tennessee, and Basement Easy was truly wrecked, and Little Harpeth was hit, too. It’s been heavy to see these rad places for community take a hit. They’ll come back, but we grieve for time lost and pain cost in these big ordeals. Oh, also we love the High Watt!
AF: Can you recommend some local Nashville talent?
Yes, of course! Our friends in Yautja, Forest of Tygers, Howling Giant, and Slider.
AF: What do you want an audience to take away from a Friendship Commanders show?
BA: First and foremost, that we are on their side. We always want people who have a hard time feeling like they belong to know that they belong with us. We feel like that, too.
Second, I guess I want people to think about how we’re treating each other and the people around us. I think we’ve become very self-focused and it’s easy to think about the world as something that’s happening to us. But really, life is made up of countless interactions with other people, whether in person or online. Be a safe person. Try out new forms of empathy. Listen instead of talking all the time. Listen again. Hold space for people who have lived through things you have not. Try to understand. And if you have any kind of privilege, please use it to help others, not to hurt them.
Last, I want people to know that a woman wrote that heavy music. Rethink what you know about how that works, and challenge your ideas of gender roles. Don’t always credit the man or men in the room. We need to keep updating how we see things. Me too.
JR: Agree on all fronts with Buick here! I’ll add that, very specifically, I want it to be a pulverizing and bombastic blast of sound. I also want it to be fun, feel safe, and be free of any sort of masculine or macho posturing and forced showmanship. I hate it when I see that or feel it from a band I’m watching, and I never, ever want to come across that way. Everybody is welcome, and we really, really mean it.
Follow Friendship Commanders on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Ellen Starski has a way of creating dynamic female characters, a gift she channels into her new song, “More.”
Premiering exclusively with Audiofemme, “More” centers around a woman who is determined to claim her independence after a series of failed relationships. Starski’s husband Shawn came up with the song’s melodic groove on his guitar one day while sitting in the kitchen, the lyrics of the first verse instantly coming to Starski’s mind as he played. She later took the idea to her producer and manager who recommended that she work with co-writers to complete it, connecting her with Michelle LeBlanc. Starski rounded out her songwriting trio with one of the most important people in her life – her father, Henry Deible.
When Starski’s parents came to visit her in Nashville, she invited her dad to help her and LeBlanc finish writing “More,” crediting him for adding an “extra layer” to the songwriting process. “He’s very poetic,” Starski describes, recalling how she used to read the love letters he sent to her mother during college. “I think he’s a main inspiration for the way that I write.” But the singer herself struck gold when she identified the defining line in the chorus that helped shape the core message of the song. From that spark came a protagonist who “just needs more for herself and is not willing to settle for anything but what she needs,” Starski details.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to see/I’m not sure what I’m supposed to hear/I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say/Still I need more/So I stand here without you,” Starski sings with her whimsical voice, referencing the ancient Japanese proverb “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” “I feel like that’s almost a clash with the way that this person is stepping out and becoming everything that she needs to be, because those are the things that they tell you [not to do]” she describes of the lyric. “But it would kind of deter a person from being everything that they can be because you have to be able to speak your mind and see your truth and hear your truth.”
“More” is featured on Starki’s sophomore album, Sara’s Half Finished Love Affair. The peculiar title is inspired by two of Starski’s favorite songs that are both named “Sara,” one recorded by Bob Dylan and the other by Fleetwood Mac. “Sara became a character through all of the music that I appreciate. A ‘half finished love affair’ is something everyone can relate to and something I have been through personally,” Starski explains of the title. Accompanying the album is a story about a fictional character named Sara that Starski says was born in her subconscious. In the story, Sara is a time traveler who voyages across the world with her one true love, but ends up losing him along the way. While on her journey to find him, Sara and Starski meet in three distinct places across North America that Starski has visited: Nova Scotia, Montana, and Key West. Starski will share a new piece of Sara’s story with each single she releases.
“I didn’t realize it, but she was coming out in these songs through stories about everything – relationships that I’ve been through, all these different bits and pieces of my life,” the ethereal singer explains, adding that the people she met in each of these three places helped inform her alter ego. “Sara is a part of who I am.”
“More” will officially be released on March 27 and Sara’s Half Finished Love Affair drops May 8. And as the world hangs in the balance of the COVID-19 pandemic, Starski’s parting words offer empathy and encouragement. “Everybody take care of each other. It’s a crazy time, everything seems so uncertain, and it’s good to be getting music out for people while we’re all in quarantine,” she concludes. “I just hope it helps people get through it.”
Follow Ellen Starski on Facebook for ongoing updates.
When Caitlyn Smith learned that a dying star emits its fullest, brightest light before ceasing to exist, she took that idea and ran with it, creating a dozen tracks that challenged her to be fiercely open-hearted. Calling it Supernova, Smith wants you to feel the same chills listening to her sophomore album as she did when she learned about the cosmic phenomenon.
The new album follows her 2018 debut, Starfire, which painted Smith as a confident woman, emotional soul and brilliant storyteller – a compelling package she carries into Supernova, where she turns her true-to-life experiences of marriage, becoming a mom for the second time while touring harder than ever and dealing with the loneliness and anxiety of life on the road into song. With an album that is soulful, sultry and at times stormy, Smith tells her story with a voice that is grand enough to command a Broadway stage, yet later so gentle she could sing you to sleep.
“I really wanted to push myself with this album, to try and be more vulnerable, to dig more into the stories that I’ve really lived and experienced,” Smith shares with Audiofemme. In order to tell her story as vulnerably as she envisioned, Smith had to look inward, going on a soul-cleansing journey of meditation, therapy and “personal excavation.”
“I really leaned into trying to become a better version of myself,” she reveals. Part of this process was changing the narrative in her brain to stop the lies and negative thoughts that manifested into anxiety, a sensitive, yet universal subject matter she channels into “I Can’t.” “I wanted to tell this story because I know I’m not the only one that feels this way,” she says of the song that shares her perspective of living with anxiety and depression as an artist. “There’s a lot of different ways that we can lie to ourselves, which then creates anxiety and this stress narrative in your brain. Changing the lens into gratefulness can really change your entire outlook.”
After spending years working as a staff songwriter penning songs for other artists, including Meghan Trainor’s chart-topping duet with John Legend, “Like I’m Gonna Lose You,” and Garth Brooks’ “Tacoma,” Smith admits that it took “a little practice” to tell such personal stories about her own life in the writing room. The continuous act of songwriting helped push her out of her comfort zone, the singer categorizing the roughly 70 songs she wrote for the project by emotion. But there was a distinct deciding factor as to whether or not a track would make the cut.
“If a song didn’t give me chills at some point, I didn’t want to put it on this record,” she affirms. “I wanted people to be able to truly feel these songs.” One particular song that she feels in her bones is the title track. Inspiration struck as she was watching her one-year-old son run around the back yard and she was suddenly overcome with an “overwhelming moment” realizing how quickly her life was moving by, witnessing her parents growing older and her two young children growing more independent each day. She took this insightful idea to co-writer Aimee Mayo to create what she calls “the ultimate emo song” on the record, both reduced to tears as they discussed how rapidly they were moving through time.
“We got this vision of a supernova. We were thinking about all these tiny little details and moments of life, and for some reason it felt right to then compare it to this big, beautiful, bright blast of a supernova,” Smith begins, awe apparent in her voice. “That’s how we need to be living our lives every day – in this full, beautiful expression of love and light.’”
They transformed this grand concept into a song that touches on fleeting moments – the innocence of childhood, growing up and moving away from home – and what its like to long to feel their gravity again. “Time is like a shooting star / A supernova in the dark / You’d do anything to make it last / But it all goes by so fast,” she pristinely serenades.
“[‘Supernova’] almost stated with one word the growth and the more intense expression of myself that’s put into this album,” Smith says. “It seemed like the perfect next step in my artistry.”
Where Starfire built the framework of the artist she was destined to become, Supernova sees Smith stepping into it. Smith proves the strength of her own magnetic force when she proclaims, “Doesn’t everyone cry when they look at the stars / And doesn’t everyone try way too goddamn hard,” in the album’s closing number “Lonely Together.” “There’s something about looking at the stars that makes me feel so connected with everybody else. We’re all under this same amazing sky on this big rock hurling through space, all just trying to navigate this little life that we have and all of these big emotions,” she expresses. “It all is just way too fascinating to not write about and love.”
Supernova is set for release on Friday (March 13). Smith will perform two album release shows on May 7 at Brooklyn Bowl Nashville and her home state of Minnesota at First Avenue in Minneapolis on May 9. She’ll join Maren Morris’ RSVP Tour as an opening act in June.
This week, Tennessee was hit by a devastating tornado that took the lives of at least 25 people and injured several others. The Nashville area took a particularly hard hit – it was home to 16 of the 24 people who lost their lives, many homes and businesses were ravaged or destroyed, including beloved rock club Basement East where locals would go to catch the best indie acts. Ironically, the “I Believe in Nashville” sign painted on the side of the building remained intact.
But in the midst of all the devastation, a word that keeps rising from the rubble is “family.” Its meaning is embedded in many artists’ reactions, whether it’s Trisha Yearwood remarking on the multiple people she saw offering up their homes as a safe place for those who have been displaced, to Dierks Bentley observing “no one comes together as a city like Nashville does.” “This community comes together to take care of its own,” Yearwood writes. “So proud to be part of the family we call Nashville.” Seeing country stars offer more than just thoughts and prayers has been heartwarming, like Kelsea Ballerini posting about ways to help on Instagram, while Chris Young pledged to donate $50,000 to the Music City Inc. Foundation, which disperses the funds to families that have been the most impacted by the deadly storm.
Further examples include Cassadee Pope, who joined forces with a stranger to help clean up the devastated neighborhood of East Nashville. “It’s just a small example of what kind of place this is. We’re a family,” she shared. Carrie Underwood used her platform on the Today show to convey, “Nashville’s a very strong community, and anytime anything like this happens, you just see how strong they are, and how they band together to fix things.” Nashvillians proved this sentiment true, exemplified through the fact that Hands on Nashville, the organization coordinating volunteer efforts to help with recovery, had more than 5,000 people sign up to volunteer in a matter of hours. And when 2,000 volunteer positions opened up online, they all were filled in minutes.
As it often does, kindness causes a ripple effect, the community continuing to find ways to lend a hand, such as Bridgestone Arena opening its doors to provide warm meals for those in need while the Ryman Auditorium donated proceeds from Hatch Show print sales during Monday night’s show to relief efforts. Additionally, the upcoming Women Who Rock event is auctioning off unique works of art created from the soundwaves of songs by Brandi Carlile and Kacey Musgraves, the proceeds to be donated to the Community Foundation’s Middle Tennessee Emergency Response Fund.
Nashville is no stranger to devastation, with many remarking how the city united in a similar fashion after the 2010 flood that left the city underwater and its citizens to rely on themselves to rebuild it. Tennessee is known as the Volunteer State, a motto that its residents wholly embrace even outside the confines of a natural disaster. I believe it is this sense of family and community that was a key component of the magic I felt the first time I came to Nashville as a bright-eyed, yet naïve 18-year-old who knew 48 hours into the trip that Nashville felt like home.
To watch so many people immediately spring into action and contribute any effort they can to help their neighbors is awe-inspiring and a true reflection of Nashville’s spirit. I wish our world would unite like this every day.
If you would like to help with the tornado relief efforts, here are some locations accepting donations and volunteers:
Hands on Nashville – Working with the city of Nashville to coordinate volunteer opportunities.
Community Resource Center – Collecting donations such as tarps, work gloves, flash lights, batteries and toiletries to give to displaced families.
Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee – The hub for monetary donations, with proceeds to be dispersed to communities and nonprofits that are helping the victims of the storm.
Second Harvest Food Bank – Nashville-based food bank working to gather resources and supplies for the areas devastated by the tornado. They are working with the Red Cross and OEM to bring food and resources to people in shelters. You can donate money or non-perishable food items such as canned produce, ready-to-eat soups and peanut butter.
“I’ve never really been a subtle writer,” Pruitt admits in a phone interview with Audiofemme. “I’m pretty damn straightforward.”
Pruitt proves this statement across her 10-track debut album that takes the listener into her innermost thoughts and personal revelations. She recounts personal experiences spanning the past four years – particularly moving away from her conservative North Atlanta suburb to attend Belmont University in Nashville, owning her sexuality and embracing her true identity in the process. “It was a pretty personal record,” she admits. “I knew I wanted to use these songs to tell my stories as accurately as I could.”
Pruitt uses this poignant body of work to share her journey to self-acceptance, beginning with “Wishful Thinking,” which confronts the false narrative that true love is as picture-perfect as we see in the movies; rather, it is embracing ones flaws is a true expression of love. She tackles mental health struggles in “My Mind’s a Ship (That’s Going Down),” which sees her surfacing from a state of depression, depicted through a mundane daily routine she’s longing to escape from. “For me, the answer to that was gratitude for things I already had instead of looking for things that I wish I had.” she explains. “I feel I keep having that revelation over and over again.”
But she ventures to a truly personal space with “Normal.” With a softly strumming guitar, Pruitt takes us inside the halls of her Catholic school where she said seven hail Mary’s for copping an attitude while feeling “scared as hell” because she knew she was different from her classmates. “I feel like a lot of times, I just did what I was told up until leaving Georgia. There wasn’t really much diversity, so I didn’t really have many examples of what living an individualistic life looks like,” she explains, conscious to add that she was raised by a community of “good people.” “I feel I looked around and everyone was wearing the same clothes brands and saying the same things and acting the same way, and it just started to seem pretty robotic. I started to really reject it the older I got.”
Using college as an escape, Belmont became a sanctuary for the young star, surrounded by creative, artistic people who broke gender norms and immediately welcomed into the LGBTQ community, a sense of belonging she didn’t always receive in her hometown. She captures this suffocating feeling in the stirring “Georgia,” which she cites as the most vulnerable song she wrote for the album. The stunning piano ballad takes a stark look at how Pruitt predicted her community and parents would react when coming out to them, envisioning her mother shouting at the top of her lungs and her father screaming with rage that he didn’t want a daughter whose soul wasn’t saved. “He thought if I told the world/They would not see me as the same girl/ They’d say I don’t belong/That’s where he’s wrong,” she sings with a voice that could shatter one’s heart like glass in the gentlest way.
But in spite of their initial opposition, Pruitt’s parents came to terms with her sexuality – in large part thanks to “Georgia,” which she almost didn’t include on the record. After having a conversation with her parents about the content of the song, they embraced the its message, knowing it could help others. “I love my parents. They’re great people – they just struggled with this, and now we’re in a great place. The thing about the song and this story is that it’s not unique to me, and there’s people that this could help.” Priutt says. “[My mom said] ‘If you really think there’s people that this could help, I agree with you that it’s important to share.’ Honestly that was like the biggest gift. Talking about the hard stuff has gotten us to a better place ultimately.”
Pruitt’s most awe-inspiring revelation shines in “Loving Her,” a heartfelt tribute to her girlfriend, Sam. Here, she fearlessly stands up for their love in the face of adversity, opening with a striking line that sees her giving up her spot in heaven if it means she can openly love another woman. “You see I used to be ashamed / To write a song that said her name / ‘Cause I was too afraid / Of what they all might say / But if loving her is wrong / And it’s not right to write this song / Then I’m still not gonna stop,” she sings delicately, but with confidence.
“Loving Her” serves as the crown jewel of self-acceptance on Expectations, a project that begins with self-questioning and doubt and comes full circle with the anthem she calls a “big realization.” “[It’s] not only a personal revelation, but a religious revelation,” she proclaims. “If there is a God, he’s not worried about if I’m gay or not. So that first line isn’t supposed to be knocking religion – I just don’t buy that God thinks like that, and I don’t think you should either. That’s breaking all these conventions that I’ve grown up being told and this is my new religion. This is what I believe now.”
With these heartfelt affirmations, Pruitt finds true self-worth, now living freely in her identity, a powerful evolution that she pours into her compelling debut record. “Through accepting myself, I can make room for actually loving someone for real,” she observes. “Nina Simone said it’s important to make art that reflects the times. [I do it] in a very small way, but it pushes society forward.”
Follow Katie Pruitt on Facebook for ongoing updates.
On January 21, CMT announced that it would devote half of its primetime video hours to female artists, effective immediately.
For years, the conversation surrounding the dismal statistics that prove women are played significantly less than men have dominated the Nashville media cycle, but a recent resurgence of this issue inspired CMT to make a serious power play toward equality.
In January, Variety reporter Chris Willman remarked on Twitter that he heard a Los Angeles country radio station play songs by Gabby Barrett and Kelsea Ballerini back-to-back, nodding to an urban legend among the music industry that country radio is discouraged from playing two female artists in a row to maintain listenership. The comment received a since-deleted reply from a representative at 98 KCQ, a country station in Michigan, stating that they are not allowed to play two female artists back to back. The exchange prompted a firestorm of responses, including replies from Ballerini and Kacey Musgraves. “Smells like white male bullshit and why LONG ago I decided they cannot stop me,” Musgraves defiantly responded, while Ballerini used her platform to proclaim, “to all the ladies that bust their asses to have half the opportunities that men do, I’m really sorry that in 2020, after YEARS of conversation of equal play, there are still some companies that make their stations play by these rules. It’s unfair and it’s incredibly disappointing.”
https://www.instagram.com/p/B7YnjWHFxEg/
Five days later, CMT announced that half of its 29 primetime video hours now feature female artists, balancing their previous statistics that offered male artists 60 percent of those primetime hours. “We wanted to look at ourselves first and say, ‘What more can we be doing?’ This to us was the quickest thing we could do,” CMT Senior Vice President of Music & Talent Leslie Fram tells Audiofemme about instituting the new format. “We felt that another year would go by with another research study that said the same things, and we were like, ‘We have to take action somehow.’”
In December 2019, Dr. Jada E. Watson, an adjunct professor at the University of Ottawa, released a comprehensive study showing the severity of this underrepresentation on radio. Gathering data between 2002 and 2018, Watson’s findings showed that top female act Carrie Underwood received roughly 3.5 million spins – half the amount of her male counterpart Kenny Chesney with 6 million. Additionally, female acts often hear the same false narratives from executives, such as “women don’t want to hear women,” while radio consultant Keith Hill made the controversial claim, “if you want to make ratings in country radio, take females out,” in a 2015 interview with Country Aircheck.
To help combat this inequality, CMT immediately put the 50/50 airplay initiative into action with five of the ten videos played on the channel per hour representing female artists. Fans get to see the videos that established the likes of Reba McEntire, Tanya Tucker and Martina McBride as legends, and the cinematic beauty of videos by modern superstars such as Carrie Underwood and Brandi Carlile. The tactic also provides an important platform for Nashville’s rising stars like RaeLynn and Madison Kozak, the first artist signed to Nashville’s new all-female label, Songs & Daughters. “You’ll be able to see the breadth of a female artists and you’ll see some people that are outside the lines of country that aren’t right down the middle,” Fram describes. “It’ll be very diverse.”
Effective immediately all music video hours on CMT and CMT Music channels will have complete parity between male and female artists. That means 50/50. #CMTEqualPlay
When the news broke, many fans and artists alike took to social media with notes of support and celebration. But several social media users also responded with sexist comments, calling the strategy “a sick joke,” “forced pc” and “a horrid idea.” Fram explains that such a mindset stems from a lack of understanding of the plight women have faced trying to break ground on an uneven playing field. “For anybody out there that says we’re forcing this and it’s a gender issue, it’s not. Women are having to work harder, they’re doing everything that they’re asked to do, and they’re still not getting the exposure, which to me is really unfair,” she responds. “We’ve always said let the best songs win, but women haven’t had an equal playing field. There’s so much great music out there and so many meaningful songs.”
CMT’s equal airplay also compliments its Next Women of Country program, founded by Fram in 2013, which provides resources to up-and-coming female artists. It also includes the annual CMT Next Women of Country Tour, which sees current headliner Tucker performing in more than 40 U.S. cities alongside a rotating troupe of up-and-coming female artists. With the new measure, Fram aims to establish a well-rounded genre that reflects the views of all types of people, breaking down the obstacles that stand in the way of certain artists being able to share their voices and artistry.
“It gives them a chance to have a career based on their music. It needs to be about the music first and foremost, to really give them a shot at having a career,” she says of her vision for the initiative’s impact on artists. “My hope is that we break that cycle and that more women get signed, have an opportunity to get in those writing rooms, have an opportunity to get on tours and really have the career that they dream of.”
On Friday, January 31, punk-rock-meets-country goddess Kalie Shorr made her debut at Nashville’s famed rock club, Exit/In, for the opening night of her first headlining trek, the Too Much to Say Tour. Throughout her 90-minute set and two-song encore, Shorr treated the room to covers of My Chemical Romance and Nirvana, sandwiched between emotion-packed originals from her critically acclaimed 2019 album Open Book dealing with exes, angst and poignant thoughts about what it means to move forward after the loss of a family member. Here are the top moments from the show:
“The World Keeps Spinning”
After delivering a collection of powerful songs that reflect her no-holds-barred attitude about life, one of the best songs in the set came in the form of “The World Keeps Spinning.” Shorr and her co-writer Skip Black have both lost family members to overdoses – Shorr’s sister Ashley passed away in 2019 to a heroin overdose, while Black’s niece also died of an overdose at the age of 25. The chatter in the room went completely silent as Shorr began to share their stories, speaking as vulnerably as possible about the perspective that comes with losing a loved one in such an intense way.
“Glossing it over doesn’t help me, it hurts me,” she reflected. She’s turned this pain into a stirring song that recalls the tone in her father’s voice the day she got that dreaded call and puts listeners in the seat next to her as they drive by a wedding on the way to her sister’s funeral. Though filled with raw emotion and reflection, Shorr delivered it with poise and confidence, making for one of the most striking moments of the night.
Bold and brash Alanis Morissette cover
Introducing the track as one she wholly identifies with, Shorr did Alanis Morissette justice with her cover of “Right Through You,” featured on one of her favorite albums of all time, Morissette’s iconic Jagged Little Pill. Morissette wrote the song about the qualms of the music industry and someone who wronged her along the way. “Someone who says something really shitty…we all have that one person,” Shorr prefaced before delivering a fast-paced, high-energy performance of the song that throws a metaphorical middle finger to the dark side and politics of the music industry. Shorr rocked out all over the stage, and it was clear even from the back of the room that Shorr felt the song’s message in her bones – Alanis would’ve been proud.
“He’s Just Not That Into You”
We’ve all heard this famous line from friends and family when you’re in a relationship where the other half is clearly not as invested. But Shorr has turned this unfortunate situation into an anthemic jam where she exudes all the sass, dancing around the stage like a teenage girl singing into her hairbrush in her bedroom. A highlight of the performance, and the show overall, came when she took to the crowd almost mosh-pit style, charging into the center of the room and head-banging to her heart’s content as fans surrounded her, making for the rowdiest moment of the evening.
“F U Forever”
Shorr picked the perfect way to end the show with “F U Forever.” “If you’ve ever had a garbage ex, sing along real loud,” she encouraged, her sharp wit and sense of humor coming out full force as she unabashedly shamed a low-life ex with unadulterated attitude and her middle fingers in the air. Shorr oozes with confidence, even when admitting her own flaws. The song is custom made for a live show and a guaranteed crowd pleaser, and Shorr delivered on both fronts, bringing her monumental set to a thrilling close.
Shorr will make stops in Los Angeles and Las Vegas, and play two shows in Conneticut, before wrapping the tour at the Mercury Lounge in New York City on March 16.
Filled with vulnerability and raw emotion, Liz Longley reclaims her personal boundaries in her new song, “3 Crow.”
Through a song that blends Christina Perri-esque vocals with a calming effect akin to Lana Del Rey, Longley paints a melodic portrait capturing the pain she felt breaking ties with a toxic friend. In a phone interview with Audiofemme, Longley shares that she often discusses the stories behind her songs on stage during live shows, but this is one she’s kept close to the vest.
Instead, the song speaks for itself, touching vividly on Longley’s experiences: having to bring a friend home after an altercation at the titular bar she can no longer go to; the time she stood watching with “tears in my eyes” when the friend got pulled over; lines becoming blurred both literally and metaphorically. These memories feel especially poignant because they’re real – the song was written about someone who lived near East Nashville neighborhood and took advantage of her friendship – and over the course of a few tumultuous months, Longley began to realize that actions she initially thought were in her best interest were actually done for the other person’s gain.
“Writing the song was my way of processing being around someone who didn’t respect my boundaries emotionally or physically, and trying to process that and learn how to set my own boundaries so that I wouldn’t set myself up for them to be challenged or disrespected again,” she explains. “I was thinking about it kind of like being under the influence, but of a person. You think ‘I’m a strong, independent woman, I’m not going to get under the influence of a person or fall victim to another person.’ It was eye-opening to realize that it can be a very gradual decline in a situation and it can grow into a situation where you don’t feel safe and it can happen to anyone.”
Longley says she wrote “3 Crow” in a near “meditative” state where the words began pouring out one night after being near this person’s house, leading to an awakening about the uncomfortable situation she was in. “Just the sight of this person’s house triggered me writing this song,” she observes. Vulnerability is an integral aspect of “3 Crow,” particularly as she sings “Slept on your couch/I insisted/You grabbed my mouth/And tried to kiss it/I gave you aspirin/And I swallowed a few hard pills myself.” It’s in these words that Longley expresses a sense of defeat that eventually turns into triumph.
Following “that realization, that hard pill that I swallowed of taking responsibility for letting myself get into this situation and letting it get to this point and almost feeling the defeat and the shame in that,” Longley says she experienced “that turnaround point where I’m saying ‘I’m not going to stand for it anymore, this is not going to happen again.’”
Longley stands firm in her proclamation not to let the vicious cycle continue by repeating “any more” at song’s end. This repetition is symbolic of how she’s standing firm in her strength and refusing to allow this unwanted behavior to be a part of her life. “Sometimes the songs come before the realization of what’s going on… putting this down on paper and then stepping away, I started to realize a lot of the symbolism in it and what I had to learn from writing it,” she affirms.
The Nashville-based singer has since cut off contact with this person and has used therapy and other healing methods as a way to move forward from the experience she expects will “unravel” as time goes on. “3 Crow” is featured on her upcoming album, Funeral For My Past, and marks the first time in four years that she’s released new original music. She hopes that when listeners hear this song, they’ll feel a sense of safety and acceptance. “Each and every one of us deserves to be loved and respected and if you’re not, I just want people to know that they’re worth more and that there is a way out and there’s hope for them,” Longley shares. “I just hope that it resonates with them on the same level that it did for me when I was writing this song.”
“3 Crow” is available now. Funeral For My Pastis expected to be released this year. Follow Liz Longley on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Ticket Giveaways
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