“Wheels of Laredo” by Brandi Carlile, Tim Hanseroth, and Phil Hanseroth (2019)
“And the echoes of the church bells that were swinging
Could be heard from Guadelupe Market Square
There was a girl there on the south side of the river
She had feathers tied into her long black hair.”
Whether sung by Tanya Tucker or by Carlile’s Highwomen collective, “Wheels of Laredo” has a mystical power to speak about the oneness of all people regardless of political or cultural borders. The girl on the south side of the river is one more mystery, viewed with interest and longing by someone from the “other” side.
Carlile has become perhaps the most significant writer of Americana music currently at work. The Hanseroth twins have worked extensively with her, as well as with other leading performers like the Secret Sisters, the Avett Brothers, and Dolly Parton.
“Play Ball” by Ashley McBryde, et. al. (2022)
“I broke into concessions once but he didn’t call the cops
He just made me clean the grease traps and replace the bubble pops
That’s the Spring that daddy left, he knew I was acting out
And when I hit my first home run, he took me to Golden Corral.”
Ashley McBryde’s Lindeville album is a lesson in the craft of songwriting. McBryde got together with many of her favorite writers including Brandy Clark, Benjy Davis, Connie Harrington, Nicolette Hayford (aka Pillbox Patti), and Aaron Raitiere, to write a series of songs about a fictional small town in the heart of America. It is named Lindeville in honor of legendary songwriter Dennis Linde.
The entire album is crammed with great songs about joy and heartbreak, community and salvation. It has enough wit and pathos to feed a dozen other soulless modern musical creations. Why did I choose this particular lyric?
Maybe because of its use of American cultural staples like baseball and budget-friendly steak houses. But I think more because of how it effortlessly elevates that sense of community that can still be found, at least at times, in the best of America.
“El Dorado” by Molly Tuttle (2923)
“Cross yourself on Hangman’s Hill if you run into Rose Maria
When the sly is dark she can read the stars, from Mars to Cassiopeia
She comes around when the sun goes down with fortunes to be told
For a copper penny, she’ll tell you plenty except where to find the gold.”
We end with the sensational Molly Tuttle, explaining America’s present by looking to its past in the manner of much iconic bluegrass. Charlatanism and get-rich-quick schemes are at the heart of her mini film about the gold rush days, and she exposes the great lie at the heart of so many hucksters, regardless of where they dwell. They give you everything except the one thing you truly want.
That, and she manages to rhyme Cassiopeia in an Americana song. That is an achievement worthy of recognition.