Preserving The Tradition of Bluegrass Into The Future

“Christmas Time’s A-Comin’” says the granddaddy of Bluegrass holiday songs. And it seems to be a-comin’ sooner each year. As I write this, the first carol hasn’t fa-la-la-ed on the radio. But stores already have hauled out the holly, trimmed the trees, and tempted us with seasonal samples of fruitcake and candy. That’s put me in the mood to track down stories behind a few of my favorite Bluegrass Christmas songs. I once thought some of the more familiar tunes could be traced

Just a few years out of Berklee College of Music, brother and sister Elisha and Aila Wildman, performing as The Wildmans, seem like fresh new faces on the roots music scene. But owing to the vibrant, legendary old-time music scene around Floyd, Va., where they grew up, fiddling, singing, and strumming have always been part of their DNA.   “We grew up kind of going to the Floyd Country store every Friday night for a really long time,” says Aila. “They do the Friday night jambo

Some bands begin with ambition. Ruby Joyful began with love. Dan Rubinoff had played in small local bands most of his life, but he says, "I never wrote a good song until I was 50 years old. Joyce and I met eight and a half years ago. It opened up the creative pathways and all of a sudden I was writing good music." That spark led to more than just a few songs. It led to a new life. Ruby Joyful, the band Dan co-founded with partner and bassist Joice Moore, came together in Paon

If you ask Matt Wallace why he made his new album Close The Door Lightly, his answer comes from years of making music on stages, in studios, and in the quiet moments between gigs—years that have shaped the Knoxville-born bassist into the kind of artist who knows exactly what he wants to play, and who he wants to play it with. The album—out now on Huckleberry Records—isn’t a showcase of original material, and that’s by design. Wallace calls it more of a “jukebox record,” a col

Photo by Lily Shea Long Mama doesn’t ask for your attention — the songs demand it. Stark and searching, cinematic and punk at heart, the music rides the tension between beauty and blunt force like it’s born from both. If you’ve ever had your heart cracked open by a stranger’s voice on the radio, there’s a good chance you already know what Long Mama sounds like. Or at least how it feels. Behind the name — both the band and the moniker — is Kat Wodtke (pronounced “Wood-key”), a

“It’s been an interesting year,” says singer-songwriter Jack McKeon, who, just a few years back, hitched his Honda Civic to a five-by-eight U-Haul trailer and headed to Nashville in pursuit of getting his songs heard. Armed with a talent for storytelling, he left behind his small hometown of Chatham, New York. Three years later, McKeon self-financed his debut album, Talking To Strangers, earning praise for its song lyrics, musical arrangements, and blend of bluegrass, country