folk music

Well, we have reached the end of this series. This has been such a rich topic for me that, of course, there are many things I'd hoped to cover but didn't. For this last post, I thought I'd briefly discuss a woman whose music about the loss—or absence—of god has resonated with me personally over the past couple of months as I've thought and written on this subject.

On her 2010 release, A Heart of My Own, Canadian singer-songwriter Basia Bulat ruminates on the loss of god. Here she is singing the popular track, "The Shore":

Call me old-fashioned, but I think most of the best voices in the world come out of folk singers. Maybe that's just because you can actually HEAR the singing, instead of the beats or the effects (which both have their places in my heart, don't get me wrong). Over the last year I've immersed myself in the Pacific Northwest's stellar Celtic folk music scene, and Colleen Raney has been the clear standout on my playlists and concert-going schedule. I'ma let you finish, but her voice is the best one I've heard in years.

In May, Religion Dispatches published my first interview with former darling of the Christian contemporary music scene, lesbian singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp. Then over the summer, I got to meet and interview Knapp in person while covering the Wild Goose Festival, an event that celebrated (predominantly Christian) spirituality, justice, and art. We talked a bit about the limitations of Christian music, feminism and sexuality on the same day she filmed the "It Gets Better" video below. I'll be critiquing some evangelical Christian music later in the series, so I'm very excited to share unpublished parts of our interview with you here today: 

My name is Kristin Rawls, and, yes, I am a preacher's daughter. I'm in my early 30s, and I was raised in an unusual blend of Protestant traditions. The preacher (my dad) grew up in the Southern Baptist church, got "saved" during the Pentecostal-influenced "Jesus movement" of the 1970s and ultimately settled in a mainline (not fundamentalist) tradition. My family practiced a confusing mix of them all. The result? I became pretty cynical about the the whole thing.

This blog series is named after blueswoman Michelle Malone's song, "Preacher's Daughter" (transcript here):

Sometimes part of what makes a musician so compelling is the story behind them. Were the White Stripes married, or brother and sister? Would Sid have been the character he was without Nancy? Is the girl in the "Cry Me a River" video REALLY supposed to be Britney Spears? (I have strong feelings about this one because I was young and impressionable when Britters and Justin dated and broke up. But that's another post entirely.)

The same is true of Abigail Washburn. Her music is outstanding on its own, but the road she took to fame is too serendipitous not to share.

Ever wonder what happened to the women musicians of New Weird America? Me too! Take a stroll through the fragrant foliage of female-made neo-psychedlic folk...

It's no surprise weather patterns appear so often in music. They, like music, can shape and reflect our moods at any given time. More importantly, they're good for a seemingly infinite number of metaphors. They can change from minute to minute. Just like your aching heart. They can rain on your parade. Just like, you know... rain. They can brighten up the ENTIRE PLANET! Just like EVERYTHING ELSE can, when you're having one of those days when everything is golden and drenched in sunshine and "Mr. E's Beautiful Blues" is your own personal theme song. It all starts in the sky. With that, global warming, and the constantly-changing weather of autumn all in mind, this week's BitchTapes is a big ol' shout out to Mother Nature.

Side note: It was incredibly hard for me not to put "Mr. Sun" by Raffi on this list. The things I do for hipster cred... Forgive me, Raffi. You are #1 in the playlist of my heart.

Did you Bounce a little too hard yesterday? Need a comedown for day two of your MFNW marathon? Look no further than Portland's own indie-folk outfit Y La Bamba. Their gorgeous, soaring harmonies and quirky, thoughtful lyrics (not to mention mega crush-worthy singer Luz Elena Mendoza) will be on display at Someday Lounge tonight at 11:15.

Ready for warm fuzzies? Check out this performance from Mississippi Studios last year.

Y La Bamba - Juniper from Smoke Signals on Vimeo

Carolina Chocolate Drops will defy, and redefine, your presumptions regarding the pure power of the kazoo. The trio, comprised of Rhiannon Giddens, Dom Flemons and Justin Robinson, met in 2005 at the Black Banjo Gathering in Boone, North Carolina. The event was dedicated to those who wished to better understand the banjo’s roots in African and African American music and history. Their music is an eclectic and lively mix of fiddle, banjo, kazoo, jug, beat boxing and (literally) the bones. String music finds its American roots in a white Appalachian tradition, and grew from the seeds of slavery for the most part. And yet Carolina Chocolate Drops have taken this seemingly tenuous foundation for an all-black band and made the music distinctly, powerfully their own.

Folk songwriter Fred Neil said Karen Dalton "sure could sing the shit out of the blues," and Bob Dylan said she sang like Billie Holiday and played guitar like Jimmy Reed. Dylan's description wouldn't be the last time this under-the-radar folk singer was likened to Lady Day. Like Holiday, Dalton's haunting croon completely transforms whatever folk, blues, or pop standard she sang.