Category: New releases

Kent Blazy Meets the Beatles

By Ken Paulson

It’s always a joy when an artist and songwriter is an unabashed music fan like the rest of us.

That’s certainly the case with Kent Blazy, whose new album From The Beatles to the Bluebird, is fueled by a love of John, Paul, George and Ringo.

Blazy, a 2020 inductee into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame, has had an extraordinary track record, including writing “If Tomorrow Never Comes” with Garth Brooks, the Brooks hit “Ain’t Goin’ Down (‘Til the Sun Comes Up” and  Chris Young’s classic recording “Getting’ You Home The Black Dress Song)”

The new album isn’t about Blazy’s hits of the last 30 years. Instead, it’s a full-throated celebration of the Beatles, songwriting and living a vibrant life.

Album opener “February 9th, 1964,” chronicles the night the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show and inspired an entire generation to ask for guitars on their next birthdays. The song was co-written with Steve Allen, who also contributes vocals.

On the title track, Blazy draws a direct line from that night to his later success as a highly successful songwriter playing at the Bluebird Café, Nashville’s songwriting haven. On “Die Young,” Blazy tips his hat to Paul McCartney in his ‘80s, and offers these words of wisdom: “I want to die young at a very old age.” This should be the personal anthem for anyone with a senior discount.

The rest of the album is less Beatles-centric, but always fun and thoughtful. “Just Writing Songs” is a particularly upbeat song about how writing songs for the pleasure of it can sometimes bring unanticipated rewards.

Many successful songwriters reach a point where they set aside their art and just make regular trips to the mailbox for royalty checks, but there’s no slowing Blazy down. He still writes, performs and releases albums on a near-annual basis, still drawing on that magical night in February of 1964, as this new collection attests.

Cimarron 615: A new band with Poco roots

By Ken Paulson –

A tribute to the late Rusty Young of Poco has paid a welcome dividend: the birth of a new band.

Five artists, all with significant ties to Young and Poco, teamed up late last year for My Friend: A Tribute to Rusty Young on Blue Elan Records. The quintet, dubbed Cimarron 615 for the recording, contributed five songs to the collection and apparently had enough fun to continue as an ongoing band.

Tonight Cimarron 615 took the stage at the 5 Spot in Nashville for what was described as their “first real live gig.”

Photo of Cimmaron 615 on stage
Cimarron 615 at the 5 Spot in Nashville

These are true veterans of country rock and that showed throughout their lively set.

The line-up:

  • Jack Sundrud, who first joined Poco in the ’80s and was also a member of Great Plains.
  • Tom Hampton, who joined Poco shortly before Young’s passing, and a member of Idlewheel along with Sundrud.
  • Bill Lloyd of Foster and Llloyd, who formed the Sky Kings with Young, and who has sat in with Poco many times while maintaining his own solo career.
  • Michael Webb, a member of Poco since 2010, and a touring musician in both John Fogerty and Hank Williams Jr.’s shows.
  • Rick Lonow, a member of Poco since 2016, also wrote the group’s hit “Call It Love.

There’s a lot of Poco DNA in that band and harmonies abound. The songwriting appears to be evenly divided among all 5 members, but it all holds together, unified by a very familiar sound.

The set was just 10 songs long, cut short either because of Webb’s looming laryngitis or because that’s all this new band has mastered. Either way, the show was an eye-opening introduction to Cimarron 615, a group that taps into decades of collective experience to create a compelling sound today.

Steve Forbert is “Moving Through America” with stop in Nashville

By Ken Paulson –

Words never spoken after a Steve Forbert concert: “I’m just so tired of him playing the same set on every tour.”

Forbert, a former Nashville resident, returned to the town’s City Winery tonight with a performance that promoted his new album Moving Through America, but seemed to be largely fueled by whim.

I was just telling George we might do “Complications,” he said mid-show, nodding toward his guitarist, the affable and adept George Naha.

It was a set that included two compositions by his idol Jimmie Rodgers in the first half-dozen songs, and spanned more than four decades of his recorded music.

At one point, he emphasized the title of his album by recalling the cities he and George had already visited on the tour, briefly confusing Pascagoula with Pensacola. Still, the point was made. Forbert’s music has always had a travelogue quality, from songs like “Strange Names (North New Jersey Has ‘Em)” to his art exhibits.

Steve Forbert at the City WInery @copyright 2022 Ken Paulson

Highlights included the title song and “Fried Oysters” from the new album, plus audience favorites like “What Kinda Guy?”, “Sure Was Better Back Then” and “Romeo’s Tune,” plus a sampling of “Sunny Side of the Street” and the Beatles’ “Good Night.”

It was the kind of show we’ve come to anticipate from Steve Forbert, with energy, intelligence and idiosyncrasies wrapped up in a melodic package.

The Delevantes return

Opening the show was the Delevantes, playing songs from their new album A Thousand Turns.

Mike and Bob Delevante @copyright Ken Paulson 2022

The duo of brothers Mike and Bob Delevante emerged in the ’90s with two excellent albums, but A Thousand Turns is their first release together in more than 20 years. As they hit the stage at the City Winery tonight with “Little By Little. the harmonies made clear that the Delevantes truly were back.

The new album was produced with E-Streeter Garry Tallent and Dave Coleman of the Coalmen. Coleman also joined the Delevantes onstage, playing impeccable guitar throughout the show.

Dave Coleman waits patiently as a sound engineer sorts out an audio problem. @copyright 2022 Ken Paulson

Review: Will Kimbrough’s fine “Spring Break”

By Paul T. Mueller
“Spring break” took on some added meaning early this year, when the pandemic shut down normal life and most people had to adjust to a strange new reality. For Nashville-based singer-songwriter Will Kimbrough, Spring Break turned out to be a good title for an album recorded during a forced hiatus from touring and other activities. It’s a solo acoustic album of mostly new material, with a few older songs thrown in, and a fine showcase for Kimbrough’s many musical strengths.

Some of Kimbrough’s songs deal directly with the pandemic and its consequences. “The Late Great John Prine Blues” is a gentle, sad tribute to one of COVID-19’s better-known victims. “Handsome Johnny’s coming home/with the late, great John Prine blues,” Kimbrough sings. “All Fall Down” takes a wider view of the situation, realistic but is also hopeful. “Maybe we should listen to some good advice/Maybe it’d do some good,” Kimbrough sings, later concluding, “We rise and we fall together/We fly like birds of a feather/We shine through good or bad weather.”

Several songs deal with travel, and the frustration of being unable to do so. “I Want Out” is the first-person story of a waitress trapped by circumstances, while the narrator of “Trains” dreams of hopping a freight and getting away. Harmonica breaks give the song a Springsteen-like vibe. “Philadelphia Mississippi” tells the story of a woman who left her small town for brighter lights, only to return. “She never felt at home, until she ran away,” Kimbrough sings, accompanying himself with a lovely slide guitar.

Kimbrough acknowledges the need to accept reality and get to work in the folky “Plow to the End of the Row.” In the same vein, “Work to Do” is an anthem to confidence and determination: “I ain’t wasting my time here/I got work to do.”

Not so directly connected to current events are the confessional “My Sin Is Pride,” a bluegrassy take on “Rocket Fuel” (a co-write with Todd Snider, whose band Kimbrough once led), and “Cape Henry,” an account of a Revolutionary War naval battle also written with Snider. Humor finds a place in “My Right Wing Friend,” in which a long friendship transcends political differences; “Home Remedy” explores romantic love, and “Child of Light” is a hymn to parenthood. Kimbrough closes with “Digging a Ditch with a Spoon,” a country blues tune about doing the best you can with what you’ve got.

It’s hard to overstate Kimbrough’s skill and style as a player. Seemingly anything with strings is fair game, and he does justice to a wide range of wood and wire, including several guitar, dobro, mandolin and banjo. Kimbrough is also an accomplished producer, and he does a good job with his own material here, leaving things simple and letting the playing and singing shine through.  

Review: James McMurtry’s “Blasted from the Past”

By Paul T. Mueller

Austin’s Continental Club helped sustain James McMurtry over the years. For two decades McMurtry played regular Wednesday night gigs at the Austin club when he wasn’t touring elsewhere. Now the Texas-based singer-songwriter is returning the favor. The Continental, a longtime fixture on Austin’s live-music scene, is closed due to coronavirus restrictions – as are its Houston offshoot and many other live-music venues. McMurtry is responding by donating all proceeds from sales of a recently released digital EP to the club.

Blasted from the Past, recorded live at the club in 2006, features McMurtry and his longtime bandmates Ronnie Johnson on bass, Tim Holt on guitar and Daren Hess on drums. The five-song collection spans a decade’s worth of McMurtry albums – “Rachel’s Song” from Where’d You Hide the Body (1995); “Saint Mary of the Woods” and “Out Here in the Middle” from 2002’s Saint Mary of the Woods, and “See the Elephant” from 2005’s Childish Things. The closing track is “Laredo,” an ominous rocker written by one of McMurtry’s Austin contemporaries, Jon Dee Graham.

Blasted, which McMurtry calls “whiskey-soaked cowpunk from a bygone era,” is an interesting time capsule from an earlier phase of his career. It chronicles a tight band of seasoned road warriors, playing and singing with the kind of intensity that’s sometimes needed to hold the attention of a rowdy bar crowd. McMurtry’s guitar playing (all electric) is ferocious, and his voice has a roughness and an urgency shaped by years of near-constant gigging (and probably some whiskey along the way).

McMurtry these days is performing solo, streaming his shows live from his home in Lockhart, not far from Austin. Drawing from his extensive catalogue, he comes across as relaxed and relatively folksy. His incisive lyrics and brilliant guitar playing (on an impressive collection of six- and 12-string acoustics) are on full display, but McMurtry projects the ease of a man playing for friends in his living room. It’s a more than excellent experience, but it doesn’t include the rock ‘n’ roll power of his full-band shows. Fans of that side of McMurtry will find plenty to love in Blasted from the Past.

The EP is available via download, in a variety of digital formats. via McMurtry’s website or that of the Continental Club.

Review: “Kiss of the Diamondback” by Gurf Morlix

By Paul T. Mueller
Gurf Morlix made good use of the early months of the COVID crisis, producing an album titled Kiss of the Diamondback. As might be expected in a time of isolation, most of the nine songs are written from a first-person perspective, dealing with themes including love, insecurity, life’s struggles, and the search for meaning. All are filtered through the Austin singer-songwriter’s distinctive sensibilities; the overall tone is somewhat moody and dark, but with flashes of lightness and humor. And no one dies, as sometimes happens in Morlix’s stories.

A couple of songs focus on beginnings. “She said, ‘I only sleep with geniuses,’ ” / I took a half step back,” Morlix sings in “Geniuses.” (After that promising start, we never quite learn how things work out.) “We Just Talked,” not as dramatic, is an account of a quiet conversation that might escalate. “Magnetism, hard to miss / I could have leaned in any moment for a kiss,” the narrator says. “Somehow that all seemed too obvious / and we just talked.”

Existing relationships also get their due. “If You Were Perfect” is a kind of gently backhanded love song in which Morlix croons, “If you were perfect, you wouldn’t have the same allure,” his delivery accented by sweet strings. In “Reason to Live,” he declares, “I’ll go anywhere with you / Do anything you ask me to.”

A few songs take a wider view. The ominous “Water Is Risin’ ” is an impending-disaster narrative that could be a metaphor for this year’s ongoing flood of bad news. “Lookin’ for hope, but I can’t find it,” Morlix sings. “Fear in front, the unknown behind it / The rain ain’t stopped, we can’t take much more.” The uncertainty of the times is reflected in “Hard As a Hammer, Sweet As a Kiss”: “Hard as a hammer, sweet as a kiss / How did life ever come to this?”

Morlix closes with “Is There Anyone Out There?,” a dirge-like tune that seems to question the very idea of connection. “Is there anyone out there?” he intones plaintively, accompanied by slow drumbeats and the drone of a cello. “Anybody going my way? Ain’t nobody going my way.”

The album is almost a one-person project – Morlix wrote eight songs, co-wrote the other, sang all the vocals and played almost all the instruments – most notably a lot of creative guitar. He also produced, engineered, mixed and mastered the album at his studio. Other contributors include Rick Richards on drums and Gene Elders, credited with arranging and performing the string section.

Review: Eliot Bronson’s “Empty Spaces”

By Paul T. Mueller
“I’m getting used to living alone,” Eliot Bronson sings on the title track of his new album, Empty Spaces. “I’m getting used to nobody there when I come home… I’m getting used to the empty spaces that you used to fill.”

And that’s one of the happier songs on this 10-song collection.

Empty Spaces is one fine breakup album – written, as Bronson says, as therapy in the wake of painful breakup and a move to a new city. It’s got everything one would expect – sadness, confusion, bitterness, resignation – and, of course, emptiness. One could easily imagine most of these songs on breakup mixtapes, if that’s still a thing. The album is also a pretty good metaphor for the times we’re living in, as we navigate the transition between the world we used to know and the new, harsher reality we find ourselves in.

Several albums into a solo career, Bronson is only getting better as a writer. Around every corner here is another skillful turn of phrase to capture experience and emotion. “Don’t give me words, words can confuse,” pleads the weary narrator of “Let Me Go.” “Words can conceal the weapons we choose.” Confusion and frustration fuel “Good for You”: “If it’s so good for you, why aren’t you kinder? If it’s so good for you, why don’t you step lighter?” And in “Montana,” a sweetly sung bit of misplaced hostility, Bronson vents his rage on a proxy instead of his real target: “Your mountains in the night/Look like the edges of a knife that cut me… You took her away from me, and how could I ever compete with what you’ve got?” In “Gone,” the album’s bleak closer, he sings, “I listen to the rain play on the leaves/Like seconds ticking away, tiny thieves,” accompanied by twangy guitars and a lonely-sounding harmonica.

Empty Spaces encompasses a range of musical genres. “Visitor” is introspective singer-songwriter pop, while “Good for You” has a glossier feel. There’s a little country in “Good for You” and “She Loves the Mountains,” and “With Somebody” is packed with ’80s-style guitars and drums. The title track is a lovely, timeless pop song, full of sweet melody and catchy hooks, layered vocals and understated playing.

The album is also a showcase for Bronson’s talent for composition and arrangement. He shares credit for the project’s atmospheric production with bandmate Will Robertson, who also plays guitars, keyboards and bass. Other contributors included Bret Hartley (guitars), Colin Agnew (percussion), Marla Feeney (violin), Andrew Colella (viola), and Prisca Strothers (harmony vocals).

Bronson has been doing weekly livestreamed shows for the past few months, and for the most part they’ve been lively and upbeat – not surprising from a guy who last year came up with a funny novelty song based on that viral tweet about “30-50 feral hogs.” That he’s written and released an album’s worth of downbeat songs speaks to his skill as a writer, as well as his willingness to bare the darker side of his soul. It’s been said that artists turn pain into art, and Eliot Bronson has certainly done that with Empty Spaces.

Mustangs of the West: A matter of “Time”

“Getting the band back together” is a common fantasy in popular music; sometimes it works, more often it tanks.

The good news is that the Mustangs of the West are in the plus column. Launched in the ’80s as the-all female Mustangs, they’re back almost three decades later with a new name and two new members.

Although they’ve been described as “cowpunk,” their sound today is an engaging brand of country rock, reminiscent of ’70s and ’80s Poco.

Here’s “How Blue” from their new album Time:

Review: Eliza Gilkyson’s “2020”

By Paul T. Mueller


Eliza Gilkyson probably couldn’t have made a timelier album. The Austin-based singer-songwriter’s recently released 2020 captures the essence of the troubled times we’re currently enduring. And if she unflinchingly depicts the anger and despair many are feeling, she also channels more positive counterparts such as faith, sympathy and hope.

“We’re on fire, we’re on fire,” Gilkyson acknowledges in the opening track, “Promises to Keep,” before stating her resolve in the chorus: “Thoughts and prayers will never make things right/and I have promises to keep.” That’s followed by “Peace in Our Hearts,” an anthem to what some might call hippie sentiment – “Gonna stand for the earth and our children too.” But there’s toughness, too, as revealed in the final verse – “Gonna stare into the face of the hateful mind/with peace in our hearts.”

Songs such as “One More Day” and “Beautiful World of Mine” take a softer approach, exploring themes such as love, forgiveness and the beauty of nature. They’re essentially the kind of “secular hymns” that have become a Gilkyson trademark in recent years.

Gilkyson bares her lyrical fangs on the ominous “Sooner or Later,” in which she recounts the sins of the oppressors – “They take the oil from the earth, put their coal dust in the sky/Their poison in the water, they don’t care if people die” – before warning, “Sooner or later, it’s a natural fact/Gonna rise up, gonna take it all back.” Age has taken its toll on Gilkyson’s voice, but she’s in excellent form on this track.

Most of 2020 comprises Gilkyson’s writing, either alone or with co-writers, but there are some notable covers. “Beach Haven,” a plea for racial harmony that sets Woody Guthrie’s words to Gilkyson’s music, is described as an adaptation of Guthrie’s 1952 letter about a segregated Brooklyn apartment complex called Beach Haven that was owned by Fred Trump, father of the current president. Gilkyson also gives a haunting rendition of Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” and an impassioned take on Pete Seeger’s “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” – both sadly still relevant after all these years.

The album closes on a gently hopeful note with “We Are Not Alone,” an ode to community that she wrote with Robert McPeek. “A flickering flame each soul holds high/Searching for another kindred spark,” she sings. “We are not alone/We are not alone/Not alone.”

 Gilkyson’s son, Cisco Ryder Gilliland, contributed drums and percussion, as well as fine production. He had plenty to work with in the way of contributors – an all-star cast of Austin notables including Mike Hardwick on guitar, Chris Maresh on bass, Bukka Allen on keyboards, Warren Hood on fiddle, Kym Warner on mandolin, and BettySoo and Jaimee Harris on vocals.

Don’t look for Eliza Gilkyson at your local arena any time soon, but with 2020, she has produced a highly relevant musical chronicle of our times that both describes the trouble we’re in and prescribes what we need to do about it. There are voices that need to be heard in times of crisis. Eliza Gilkyson’s is one of them.

Review: Wheatfield’s “Some People”

By Paul T. Mueller

Some People, the latest effort from folk-rock veterans Wheatfield, is as much a testament to enduring friendship as it is a musical document. The roots of this Texas- and Arkansas-based quartet go back to 1973 – an often-told story describes how two of the members, already alumni of a Houston high school, attended the graduation ceremony of a third, eagerly awaiting the moment she received her diploma and joined the band full time. The fourth joined a few years after that, and all these years later – after tasting success for a few years, breaking up, and re-forming after a quarter-century hiatus – they’re still at it.

Wheatfield earned critical praise and loyal followers during the first go-round, playing a mix of folk, rock, jazz, soul and even classical music. The band could be forgiven for playing nostalgia gigs for aging fans, and it’s true that several of the old songs are still staples of Wheatfield shows, such as they are these days. But when the quartet restarted the band in the early Aughts, it was with the idea of continuing to create new music, and they have. Some People is a bit uneven, but the album’s 10 original tracks are worthy of the fine reputation the band established long ago.

(Full disclosure: This reviewer has been a Wheatfield fan at least since 1976 and counts these musicians as friends, having come home one evening a few years ago to find them in his living room, set up to play a surprise birthday party house concert.)

The music, as always, is an eclectic mix of styles and influences. The title track, written by Craig Calvert (vocals, guitar, mandolin, flute) is a funky look at real-world tensions between work and fun, money and time. “When the Fog Rolls In,” by Calvert and Ezra Idlet (vocals, guitar, banjo, percussion) is a gentle, jazzy meditation on life’s simple pleasures. “Sweeter Side,” by Idlet, Connie Mims Pinkerton (vocals, guitar, percussion) and Keith Grimwood (vocals, bass) celebrates seeking the good in life; it features Idlet’s banjo and some fine four-part harmonies. (Idlet and Grimwood make up folk duo Trout Fishing in America, which began as a side project in the ’70s and is still going strong.) “Different Games,” by Mims Pinkerton and Calvert, is metaphorical look at personal struggles; “Cup of Moon,” co-written by Calvert, harks back to the band’s roots as an acoustic trio. “Better Days,” credited to all four members, is an up-tempo ode to hope and perseverance that seems well suited to current times.

The only song not written by one or more band members is a folky-bluegrassy rendition of U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” that highlights Grimwood’s soulful vocals and Idlet’s skillful banjo.  There’s a message there: Almost five decades on, at or near retirement age, Wheatfield’s members are still seeking. The writing on Some People is thoughtful, the playing is excellent, the harmonies are as lovely as ever, and the production, by Calvert and Idlet, is clean. Wheatfield isn’t exactly a full-time band anymore, but its members continue to explore the musical landscape, and what they’re finding there is worth hearing.

“Steve Goodman Live ’69:” A treasure

By Ken Paulson

I first saw John Prine onstage at Chicago’s Ravinia Festival in July of 1972. Prine was the main attraction, but the animated young man who shared the stage with him that night was a close second.

You might know Steve Goodman as the writer of “City of New Orleans” or as a close friend and collaborator of Prine’s, but he was also one of the most electric singer-songwriters ever to grace a stage. Goodman engaged an audience like no other, with songs that moved you or made you laugh, hilarious stage patter and rapid-fire acoustic guitar. If you saw him, you never forgot him.

Goodman died of leukemia in 1984 at age 36, which is part of the reason he’s not better known today. Last August, Omnivore Recordings reissued his final four recordings from the ’80s with bonus tracks, but it was pretty clear that the archives were empty. We would never again see a new Steve Goodman album.

Until now. In an unexpected move, Omnivore has released Steve Goodman Live ’69, a recording of a performance for a local Chicago folk music show. It’s a fascinating document and the sound is surprisingly good.

It’s from so early in Goodman’s career that his performance didn’t include any of his own songs. It’s very much a recording of its time. There’s a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Country Pie,” traditional folk (“John Barleycorn”) and “Ballad of Spiro Agnew,” a brief political joke masquerading as a song, written by Tom Paxton.

But it’s the rest of the album that is revelatory. The same guy who floored audiences throughout the ’70s is right there in 1969, opening with a full-throttle version of Willie Dixon’s “You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Cover,” offering up a charming cover of Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried” and tackling an odd medley of “Where Are You Going/Eleanor Rigby/Drifter/Somebody to Love.”

Closing out the set was what would go on to be a staple of Goodman’s live set, a stellar rendition of Leroy Van Dyke’s “The Auctioneer.”

Steve Goodman Live’ 69 is a treasure – unexpected, unpredictable and delightful. So was Steve.

Review: Lucinda Williams’ “Good Souls Better Angels”

By Paul T. Mueller

Lucinda Williams’ latest release, Good Souls Better Angels, will probably be a big hit with fans who have embraced her late-career evolution into a kind of rock ‘n’ roll godmother. It may not prove so popular with those who fell in love with the introspective poetry of her earlier days as a folkie singer-songwriter.

Williams has been moving in this direction for a while, so there aren’t a lot of surprises on Good Souls. The album’s 12 tracks find her contending with demons both internal (“Wakin’ Up,” “Pray the Devil Back to Hell,” “Down Past the Bottom”) and external (“Bad News Blues,” “Man Without a Soul”). “Big Black Train” reads as Williams’ metaphor for approaching death (“I can hear it comin’ from miles away/And I don’t want to get on board”).

Williams has trod this ground before, but her lyrical style has evolved (some might say devolved) from the meticulous songcraft of, say, “The Night’s Too Long” and “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” to simpler stories and repetitive choruses. It’s a style well suited to live performance and extended jams; Williams, on a good night, is still a force of nature. But it’s hard to imagine these gruffly delivered anthems inspiring the same kind of lasting devotion as do earlier gems such as “Passionate Kisses” or “Pineola.”

Words aside, there’s a lot of listening pleasure to be had here, courtesy of Williams’ longtime band, Buick 6. Guitarist Stuart Mathis, bassist David Sutton and drummer Butch Norton are consummate musicians who have been playing with Williams for years and know exactly how to weave the instrumental framework behind her vocals. Sutton and Norton provide the solid rhythmic foundation, while Mathis wrings every possible sound from his guitars, from subtle picking to soaring solos to noisy distortion. There’s also some atmospheric organ playing by Mark T. Jordan, and all of it is showcased by clean production by Williams, Ray Kennedy and Tom Overby.

Show 48 The Reverend Shawn Amos’ new “Blue Sky”

Just out is the Reverend Shawn Amos’ new album “Blue Sky” with his band the Brotherhood. We had the pleasure of talking with Shawn about this new release a while back at the 30A Music Festival. He was excited – and we now know why.

Shawn is a dynamic artist and so is the album. Learn how Blue Sky came together and what he has in common with the Who on this edition of the Americana One Podcast.

Conversations on Cayamo: The Mastersons

The Mastersons were remarkably prescient in recording and releasing their new album No Time For Love Songs. 

We spoke with Chris Masterson and Eleanor Whitmore on board the Cayamo music cruise, just about three weeks before a cruise ship was the last place in the world where you would want  to spend time.

The timely album is about our polarized world and the willingness of so many to turn their backs on values in the interest of partisanship. And now the COVID-19 pandemic puts an explanation point on their message.

Here’s our conversation with Chris and Eleanor: