Tift Merritt "Broken"

I was looking at the list of Newport Folk artists, to see if their names jogged any memories that would make good blog posts.

And when I saw the name Tift Merritt it made me smile, and blush just a little.

At Merlefest 2008, our set up was right in the middle of the Community College campus, in pretty much the geographic center of the 14 stage sprawl.  They had us, believe it or not, in an actual old caboose, which they'd outfitted with power and internet.

And if you stood on the back of the train, you were overlooking the table where artists would be scheduled to autograph CDs and meet with fans.

It was pretty revealing and entertaining, to note what the crowd in that autograph line looked like, based on which artist was at the table that hour.

When legendary pickers like Jorma Kaukonen were seated behind the table, the line was filled with middle aged guys with pot bellies, holding their own guitar to have it signed, ready with their technical question.

When young rebel bands like The Avett Brothers sat there, the line was made up of young hipsters, sporting tattoos and fashionable but perhaps inappropriate gear, like wool caps (it was April).

I watched Tift Merritt coming across campus, headed to her turn to meet and greet.

She was wearing a sleek little dress, that had a plunging neckline and stopped short at the knees, to give full view of her kick-ass boots.

She strutted right up to the table.  Looked at the chair set out for her.  Then back at the table.

And then she jauntily hopped herself right onto the table itself, crossing her legs, ready to meet her fans.

Oh, and looking at those guys just made me laugh.

I mean, look at those awkward 40-something-year-old guys in line.  In their jeans and their band t-shirts.

Look at them shyly, awkwardly, try to talk to the cool, pretty singer.

And watch the cool, pretty singer just charm these guys into a puddle.

What dorks!  What losers!  What . . . wait.

Pretty much every guy in that line, looks like me.

(Sad trombone)

Tift Merrit performs this weekend at the Newport Folk Festival.  For artist previews and mvyradio's Newport Folk Channel, visit the mvyradio Bloggers page.  And hear full coverage of the Festival, with live sets from the stage, on mvyradio.com.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Buddy Miller and Jim Lauderdale "I Lost My Job Of Loving You"

As even the hearty crabgrass on my front lawn begin to wither, so too does the crop of incoming new CDs.

But that does open things up for a few fun forays.

I don't know if we've ever added a Jim Lauderdale song, but we've practically stalked the guy, recording him at Merlefest and The Americana Music Awards and other places.

And I can only recall adding one Buddy Miller tune over the years, though he's guested on dozens of tracks that we've played, including the recent Robert Plant cuts.

Both guys are great musicians and songwriters.  But both are usually a little twangy for mvyradio.

Interestingly, though this song is not short on twang, it's close enough to the center that we'll play it, because its pretty fun.  And totally worth it to support two guys who should be legendary.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Doc Watson "Milk Cow Blues"

When Doc Watson passed away, I thought of this story, but it didn't seem like the right one to tell as an obituary-type post, so I saved it for later/today . . .

I was headed somewhere with Jane.  Honestly, I can't remember where.

We were at Merlefest, covering the festival for the station.  And because Merlefest has 14 stages, spread out around the campus of Wilkesboro Community College, when you cover Merlefest, you spend a ton of time briskly walking back and forth, from the stages to our broadcast booth to the tents to the truck to the . . .

You quickly learn the shortcuts.  And if you want to get from one side of the Main Stage to the other, you could walk wide, all the way around the crowd.  Or you could walk behind the stage on a service road that wound behind.  Or, there is a narrow hallway, like a little artery, that tunnels through the heart of the building that houses the main stage.  To get from one side to the other, you can shoot right through that.

Jane and I were on our way . . . wherever, zipping through this empty hall when suddenly from the left, a door that I'd never seen open, opened.

Out, coming from the stage area, popped a small gaggle of folks.  Had we be been a half-a-step faster, we would have bumped right into them.

Jane gasped, then turned to me and said, in a stage-whisper with hand gestures, "It's Doc Watson!"  One of the people in the group half-looked at us and gave a quick smile.

We continued down the hallway, following Doc and his guide and friends, back out into the daylight of the other side of the stage.

Doc's group led him to a car, and Jane and I continued our forward trajectory.

When we were safely out of range where the group could possibly hear us (unlike when we were in the hallway), I looked at Jane and said, "You realize he's blind, not deaf, right?"


Tonight on mvyradio we are airing "The Best Of Doc Watson At Merlefest" featuring portions of several different sets we recorded at Merlefest over the years.  Stream it at 9pm ET on mvyradio.



Hear the song on Youtube.

Doc Watson "Deep River Blues"

Of all the words that will be written about the passing of perhaps the most influential roots/Americana guitar players of all time, none speaks to who Doc Watson was, more than his own words.

At his request, the life-sized statue of Doc Watson that sits in Boone, North Carolina, has this inscription:

"Just One Of The Guys."

Thanks Doc.  Thanks for everything.


Hear the song on Youtube.

You can find 7 different Doc Watson performances in the mvyradio archives under "D," including sets with The Nashville Bluegrass Band and "A Tribute To Merle," his late son.

Levon Helm "Rag Mama Rag"

I was on vacation last week when Levon Helm passed away, so I didn't get to write about him here, in a timely fashion.

But I guess I'm glad about that, as I had several days to process, and think about what I wanted to say.

I'm sure just about every news outlet played either "The Weight" or "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" as they spread the news.

And I took a peek at mvy's Facebook page to see that someone had posted those amazing lyrics from "When I Go Away."

Don't want no sorrow
For this old orphan boy
I don't want no crying
Only tears of joy
I'm gonna see my mother
Gonna see my father
And I'll be bound for glory
In the morning
When I go away

And yeah, if I had been "on-duty" with the blog last week, I probably would have posted that song myself.  While the song says basically, "Don't cry, I'm off to Heaven," it's pretty heavy still.

I never met Levon, but I did have a one degree of separation moment.

Back in 2008, we traveled to Merlefest, for four days of recording the best in Bluegrass and Americana Roots music, and Levon was on the bill.

There was a crew of 6 of us.  Gary did most of the heavy tech.  Nick ran the board.  I was producing segments.  Lindsay Reid took pictures.  One of Gary's buddies came down from Louisville to gopher for us.

And Jane did, what Jane does.

Jane is one of the weekend DJs at mvy.  And two of her best attributes are a) she's game, and b) she's not shy.

So whenever we head to a festival, Jane is in charge of autographs.

We bring copies of the CDs of the artists on the bill.  Or posters.  Or occasionally a guitar.  And Jane is dispatched to stalk the backstage area (or, more frequently these days, wait in the autograph line at the Merch tent) with a Sharpie in hand, to get the John Hancock.

Levon had already gone through his first big bout with cancer, and was out with his triumphant return to touring, behind the acclaimed "The Mountain" record.

I talked to Jane a bit, as we were enjoying Levon's rocking set and otherwise winding down for the night. 

She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to get close to Levon, because he was the last act of the night, and likely wouldn't be hanging around the grounds.  But she said she'd give it her best effort.

I'll never forget what she said when she came back to the mvyradio Tent.

"That guy is happy.  He's just happy."

Happy to be alive?  I asked.

"He just seems happy.  To be alive.  To be here."

It was evident in his playing and in his stage presence and in the way that people who knew him have reacted to his death:  He took great joy in playing music and in sharing music.

So yeah, last week I probably would have posted something more about Death, like "When I Go Away" or "The Mountain."

But after a few days to process it, I'll take Levon's advice to feel no sorrow, and instead be left with the joy that remains in the many, many great songs he was a part of, like this playful tune about a coy lover.

Thanks again, Levon Helm.



Hear the "Rock Of Ages" version on Youtube.


Hear "When I Go Away" on Youtube.


Hear a performance from Merlefest on Youtube.

Nickel Creek "The Lighthouse's Tale"

This week, I'm looking at artists that we came to play later in their career, asking the question "should we go back and play the band's earlier tracks?"

I can remember sometime around 2000, being in the mvyradio production room with Barbara. I'd been telling her about a band I'd seen at Merlefest the year before, that I thought might be a good fit for mvy.

Nickel Creek had just released their first major record, and I had had an early window into this band, as they had played the North Carolina festival as teenagers, wowing both the crowd and the older musicians with their progressive excellence.

"The Lighthouse's Tale" had even made a ripple on CMT, where the video was getting some play.

Barbara and I listened, and I can remember her comment: It was good, but it wasn't quite there.

Where was "There" I asked myself? And, truthfully, I still ask myself that question, most every day, about half the songs that cross my path.

If you were looking at baseball stats, you could easily quantify when something was "There."

(What's that? Pedro has thrown 110 pitches? Then for God's Sake, take him out of the game! He's There!)

But with art, you can't quantify things as easily.

It makes sense, of course. Some bands are strong enough, some songs are strong enough, that they deserve to get regular airplay. And some bands and songs are not strong enough.

But where is that line?

That's the "There" Barbara was talking about.

Nickel Creek's early, self-released albums probably weren't even close to being mature or strong enough for regular airplay. And Nickel Creek's second major release was strong enough---we did play "This Side."

But that first major release, well, it was close, but we didn't end up playing it, because it didn't quite cross that arbitrary line of "There."

So now it's many years later, and we've played a bunch of Nickel Creek songs in regular rotation. They have built up a reputation as a quality band. They have a fan base and a recognizable sound.

We could go back and add it to rotation. But should we?

Is there "There" there now?


See the video on Youtube.

Hayes Carll "Grateful For Christmas"

Around the middle of last week, I started to see Facebook Status complaints about the unwelcome early arrival of Christmas music.

Maybe you heard your first song of the season through the P.A. system in the supermarket.

Maybe it caught you off-guard while you were on hold.

Or maybe, the record labels sent you a free MP3 to pass on to your blog readers.

Okay, that last one may be a bit specific.

I interviewed Hayes Carll a few years ago, and was impressed with his ability to be tender, melancholy and hilarious, without ever really changing his delivery or tone.

I wasn't necessarily psyched to listen to a Christmas song during the first week of November, but I put it on, along with some other newly received tracks. And about midway through the song, I found myself laughing out loud.

So, yeah, it's early. But this one is worth it.

It's available as a free download from Hayes' site. (Right click the link to download)

He tells a couple of stories, before starting the song:

Toubab Krewe "TK2"

The Life Is Good Festival happens in Canton, MA this weekend. So this week's blog posts feature artists appearing on the bill.

I saw these Carolinians at Merlefest a few years ago, which is generally attended by folks who tend to favor traditional country, Americana and roots music.

It was just wonderful to see these crunchy young dudes, who had delved deeply into the music of Africa, become the darlings of the festival that year, winning folks over by simply playing their amazing music.

You can hear three different sets and an interview with the band in our archives.

Toubab Krewe performs today at the Life Is Good Festival. Their new album is out this week.

The Avett Brothers “Talk On Indolence”

Five songs I’m looking forward to hearing again, in Newport.

With every artist, there is a dividing line.

There’s a line between the people who get it and the people who don’t.

There’s a line between the people who are passionate, and the people who are ambivalent.

There’s a line between the people who will pay up and the people who will stand up.

That night from the main stage at Merlefest 2008, The Avett Brothers made a point to say that Merlefest was a huge part of who they’d become, for better or worse.

I remember the buzz in 2006, when the band played one of the small, out-of-the-way Merlefest stages, drawing a small but really raucous, enamored crowd.

They were tapped to open the 2007 Festival, giving the prominent position of First Band On The Main Stage, which, ultimately, is a small honor since, on Thursday at 5pm, only a fraction of the weekend concert-goers have arrived.

But it earned them the plum spot in 2008. They were the Saturday night headliners. THE time slot.

I remember being in the mvyradio On The Road studio (okay, it was a caboose, actually), listening to Gary, a broadcasting veteran, have a back and forth with Nick, a recent college grad, about the Avetts.

The long and short of it was that Nick thought they were amazing, and Gary felt like they weren’t doing anything he hadn’t heard before. Nick thought the crossbreeding of punk and americana was brilliant, Gary didn’t seem to think that the combination did service to either genre.

And this conversation was being played out, across the Merlefest campus.

The Main Stage area is set up with seats in front. You have to pay extra to sit in the first 50 rows at Merlefest. And most folks who held those tickets were older. They were looking forward to seeing Doc Watson and other heritage artists.

After the rows of seats, is wide open field, and you can be anywhere, right up to the point where the seats start, and security checks your ticket. That line was teaming with young, enthusiastic Avett fans, who were jumping, craning, to get a better view of their favorite band.

As the Avetts kicked in to “Talk On Indolence” I watched the people in their seats decided that they’d seen enough. Clusters of couples rose to their feet, gathered their blankets and bags of sunscreen and amenities, and headed for the gate, leaving behind large bald patches of seating, as if the band were playing to a poorly attended house.

But at the same time, behind the line, this song put the young folks into a tizzy. The raucous fan-favorite was sending spasms of musical joy through the passionate portion of the audience.

I’m sure the kids didn’t get why the adults were leaving, and the adults didn’t get why the young folks were staying. And the balance of the musical universe, which had tottered on that line through Elvis and The Beatles and Punk Rock and Metal and Alternative and Hip Hop . . . remained in check.




Here's the full 60 minute performance from Merlefest 2008, as mentioned in the post.

Tom Petty “Green Onions”

Top 5 Songs found in mvyradio’s online auction . . .

We had just spent the last four days, working out butts off to cover Merlefest. It was one of the biggest On The Road excursions we’d had up to that point, and we were dead dog tired.

But even though it was 2am, you can’t just switch off from four days of “GO-GO-GO-GO!” so we were all hanging out in Gary’s hotel room, having a few well-earned beers.

Larry was flipping through the cable channels, looking for something to have on the in the background, as we rehashed our weekend war stories. He came across a Tom Petty Concert on one of the premium channels.

“Is this okay?”

Nick responded, “Yeah. Everybody loves Tom Petty, right?”

Gary burst into deep belly laughter, and reached for the phone, quickly dialing.

“Honey? It’s your Dad. Hang on a second.”

Gary handed the phone to Nick and said, “Repeat what you just said!”

Nick, confused, stammered, “Uh, everybody loves Tom Petty . . . “

“Okay,” said Gary, to his daughter on the other end of the line, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Apparently, “everybody loves Tom Petty” is a long-standing in-joke for Gary’s family. Tom Petty being a symbol for something everyone can agree on. So he just had to share that Nick's spontaneous confirmation of that universal truth:

Everybody Loves Tom Petty.


If you love Tom Petty—and you must, because everybody loves Tom Petty---we have the Tom Petty Live Anthology boxed set up for grabs in this week’s mvyradio auction. Make a bid and support free streaming.

Old School Freight Train “Heart Of Glass”

You hear that a bluegrass/Americana band is going to do a Blondie song, and you automatically assume that it’s going to be an ironic take. But kind of like when Richard Thompson did Britney Spears’ “Baby One More Time,” while the initial idea might have been ironic, the actual execution really, really works. This Old School Freight Train version, again like the RT song, loses any arch-ness that inhabited the original, and reads the lyrics with gravity.

The first time we ran across this band, at Merlefest 2005, I think, they did Randy Newman’s “Louisiana 1927.” There’s another song that can have the gravity and the irony dialed up or dialed down in the delivery, but still remains serious and sarcastic in the right places, no matter how it’s sung.

Hear Old School Freight Train “Heart Of Glass”