Artists

North Dakota singer-songwriter Tom Brosseau’s latest album, Treasures Untold, features a handful of orginals alongside renditions of classics from the Great American Folksong Book. Here, he takes us deeper into the roots of American music, while spotlighting some more modern interpretations thereof. “Lately I’ve been listening to the Peter Rowan catalogue, who Sara Watkins recommended to me in the early 2000s. ‘Panama Red’ appeared on both Rowans first solo album, Peter Rowan (1978), and before that in 1973 on the New Riders of the Purple Sage album The Adventures of Panama Red. I would say the ‘Panama Red’ here, recorded in 1994 at Telluride, finally found its true pulse. It displays the master musicianship, in both control and tone, of not only Peter Rowan, but also his band of A-list bluegrass players.“I had an interesting discussion with a friend of mine, music historian Lou Curtiss. I phoned Lou about the omitted material from the Carter Family On Border Radio series. If there were any unreleased Carter Family recordings out there I wanted to know about it and Lou would be the person to talk to. Lou proceeded to tell me a story concerning the 16" transcription discs that eventually became On Border Radio, and how they were discovered in Baja, California, but so often when talking about music with Lou it’s like swinging from one limb to the next in an endless jungle. You go awhile; there doesnt have to be a real destination. Lou and I derailed from the Carter Family to the Phipps Family, a musical group you might say picked up where the Carter Family left off, in the 1940s. Thanks to Lou, who always gives me such great musical recommendations, I have become a Phipps fan. I hope you will too.“There’s an album of Harry McClintock entitled Haywire Mac. It’s educational and so much fun to listen to, recorded by Sam Eskin in 1953. It features McClintocks story-telling, his biographies on songs and people, and of course his singing. (McClintock composed many songs, most notably “The Big Rock Candy Mountain”, a staple of the Great American Folk Songbook.) One composition on Haywire that I really love is ‘Sweet Violets.’ It’s an example of what’s known as a mind rhyme. You’ll find a more risqué example of a mind rhyme on this playlist. You’ll know it when you get to it.“This playlist is comprised of songs that either I stumbled upon or were recommended to me. It’s perfect for a small gathering, like a dinner party. Or take it on a walk with you. It doesn’t matter how you come across music. All that matters is what touches the heart. Enjoy listening.Photo: Lizzi Brosseau

For the past three years, I’ve been impressing people—hell, impressing myself—with the fact that I’ve been to Tom Petty’s house. I’d gone to Malibu to interview him for UNCUT magazine about Hypnotic Eye. Admirably raucous and rancorous, it proved to be his final studio album with the Heartbreakers, the band that he fronted for the better part of 40 years. So that album’s mostly what we talked about in a room next to his studio, which he’d built next to the rambling, Spanish-style, and thoroughly unpretentious home he bought after an arsonist set fire to his place in Encino in 1987. This one nearly burned down too, thanks to the massive wildfires in the area in 2007—as we chatted before sitting down, he pointed out the window to the spot a little higher up the hill where the fires stopped short of his property and the Pacific Coast Highway just below. The house is where he was found unconscious and not breathing after his cardiac arrest early Monday morning. I remember the room in the studio as homey—I could imagine Bob Dylan here with his boots up on the sofa, checking out the tasteful black-and-white framed photos on the walls. (Tom was onstage with his hero Roger McGuinn in one; with his fellow Wilbury Roy Orbison in another.) Petty served us coffee from a big stainless steel urn into oversized southwestern-style mugs that I imagined he washed himself because he didn’t want the pottery to get fucked up in the dishwasher. Throughout the interview, he puffed on a vape pen before rewarding himself at the end with a genuine smoke from a pack of American Spirit. Sporting a big bushy beard along with his usual straggly blond hair, Petty had the tanned and weathered face of an old Florida beach bum, but his bright blue eyes made him look younger by 15 years. He was friendly and a little crotchety—in other words, he was as cool as you could’ve hoped. We were supposed to have an hour but he gave me two. Then he walked me back to the front of the house and got on with his day.So that’s the scene I’ve been replaying in my head since I heard the news. Somehow, our afternoon together—and its complete lack of the audience-with-a-rock-star bullshit you might expect—speaks to the Everyguy/no-bullshit/scrappy-kid-from-Gainesville thing that Petty always exuded. He was a man of the people in a way that Dylan and Springsteen couldn’t be, because they just seemed too oversized, too mythic, too huge from the get-go. Like the characters he tended to write about, Petty was always somewhere between underdog and self-made outcast. Yet the chip on his shoulder was the rare and beautiful kind that seemed to make him more empathetic to people rather than less so. Anyway, that’s what I hear in the songs that I go back to most—some are hits and others are deeper in albums that didn’t quite get as much love as they should’ve (like the Heartbreakers’ final two albums, Mojo and Hypnotic Eye). Petty’s pair of albums with the reconstituted version of his proto-Heartbreakers band Mudcrutch proved that the man never lost his songwriting chops even if the snarling, punk-ass Petty of 1978’s You’re Gonna Get It and 1979’s sublime Dawn the Torpedoes was always gonna be hard to outdo.When we spoke, Petty talked about his plans to do an expanded version of his Rick Rubin-produced solo masterpiece Wildflowers from 1994. He didn’t get a chance to realize that ambition but in 2015, he did a preview of sorts by putting out a previously unreleased song from the sessions called “Somewhere Under Heaven.” A deceptively simple vignette that movingly portrays the bond between a “working-man” dad and the daughter who’s too young to know how bad the world can be, it’s arguably as fine as anything he ever wrote. In the last verse, the father has this to say to his little girl: “One day you’re gonna fall in love/ One day you’re gonna pay the rent/ Hold on to what love you find/ You’re gonna need all you can get.” Feels like good advice right now for all kinds of reasons.

When I was a 13-year-old girl completely oblivious to the immense power of femininity, Tori Amos "God" struck something within me. "God sometimes you just dont come through / Do you need a woman to look after you?," she trills with a mix of steeliness and sass. Perhaps its the blatant heresy she so coolly savors, but that line continues to sting so good, as long as religion and patriarchies continue to dominate our existence. Over two decades and some 15 albums later, we expect nothing less from Amos, who keeps writing, recording, and touring relentlessly; slipping in and out of personas; and crafting her art on cosmic concepts that intricately break down life here on Earth in all its bliss and terror.Amos is a carefully constructed contradiction: a classically trained musician and provocative pop star; a ministers daughter with an angelic voice and a wildly wicked sense of humor; an independent woman who respects tradition as much as she subverts it. For this Family Tree feature, we honor her musical lineage, whose roots stretch back to Lennon and Led Zeppelin, then branch out to Fiona Apple and PJ Harvey, and continue to flourish through artists like St. Vincent and Lorde.

THE ROOTS

At the ripe ol age of two, Tori started playing piano. Soon, she was on scholarship at the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore. But she found her greatest muses in the rock records her older brother would sneak into the house. Led Zeppelins sticky, swampy pagan rock would leave an impression, especially those Robert Plant wails that effortlessly ooze with sex. So would the fabulous flamboyancy of Freddie Mercury—you can see his histrionics channeling through her when she works two pianos at once in concert. In fact, shes even claimed Mercury wrote her To Venus and Back track "Sugar" from beyond the grave. Shes said the same about John Lennon, whose ghost may or may not have helped write the Boys for Pele song "Hey Jupiter," whose chords mirror another rock god: Prince.Of course, there are plenty of rock goddesses tangled among Amos roots as well. Her most ethereal proclivities bring on constant comparisons to art-pop auteur Kate Bush, who can draw sensuality out of the steeliest synths. Stevie Nicks is another one of her spirit animals, and Tori covers her Rumours material often. But perhaps her most striking trait—her raw, vulnerable songwriting—draws from the beautifully raging poetry of Joni Mitchell and punk priestess Patti Smith.

THE BRANCHES

Tori Amos released her debut album Little Earthquakes in 1992. At first blush, her flowery, flowy piano rock seemed a far cry from the testosterone-fueled grunge blowing in from the Pacific Northwest. But her songwriting and delivery, stripped bare of pretense and posturing, shared much with that genres tortured confessionals. At the same time, her music felt like an antidote to all that muscular angst, even though anger and pain very much powered her own cathartic cries. This potent femininity would quickly seep its way into the alternative-rock consciousness through prolific artists like PJ Harvey, Liz Phair, and Ani DiFranco.Songs like "Silent All These Years" would help give voice to equally strong, immensely gifted women armed with a piano or guitar and a helluva lot of thick skin. On “Sullen Girl,” Fiona Apple channels her own trauma as a rape victim into one of pop music’s most hauntingly elegant depictions of the terror, depression, and isolation that comes with such hell. And, like Tori, her words flow so eloquently, so naturally, with every little waver in her voice holding infinite emotion. But it wasn’t just women who felt her allure. Trent Reznor was also a fan, and the two were often linked. Tori’s “Caught a Lite Sneeze” references Pretty Hate Machine, while “Past the Mission” features Mr. Self Destruct himself on backing vocals.

THE LEAVES

Twenty-five years after her solo debut, Tori continues to reinvent herself as she navigates a contemporary landscape rife with musicians influenced by her. These artists capture her passion, her freakiness, and her luminous grace in their own lucid tales that often shift and warp modern ideals of love, sex, power, and gender. The weird, snarling dance mix of Tori’s "Raspberry Swirl" could work as a rough template for St. Vincent’s wacky, whimsical compositions. Traces of her most mystical odysseys weave through the dark, eerie dream-pop of Bat For Lashes and Zola Jesus. Provocative piano women like Amanda Palmer take a bit of Tori’s unapologetic fire and let it loose themselves, too—heck, Palmer is even married to author Neil Gaiman, the subject in a few of Tori’s songs. And even some of pop’s biggest stars embrace Tori’s insatiable need to articulate the immensity of being a powerful woman. Just take it from Lorde: “I’m 19 and I’m on fire.”

Gucci Mane became one of the south’s most prolific and influential rappers with the help of a deep bench of producers, and Xavier “Zaytoven” Dotson is first and foremost among them. A transplant from Oakland, California, who grew up playing church organ, Zaytoven brought a new set of textures and influences to the Atlanta trap sound with soulful keys, ornate piano runs, and squealing synths. That brighter array of tones helped Gucci stand out from his contemporaries on his early hits, and Zay soon began expanding his client base, working extensively with artists including Migos and Future. And after Gowop spent years in and out of prison, he linked up with his favorite beatmaker again to get back to work.

Veteran Scottish alt-popsters the Trashcan Sinatras recently celebrated their 30th anniversary, and to mark the occasion, theyre embarking on a special acoustic tour of intimate venues (like, house-show-intimate, in some cases) across North America this fall. To get into the mellow mood, theyve made us this playlist of unplugged classics by the likes of The Beatles, Paul Westerberg, Vashti Bunyan, and more.

Tremor have just issued the Ave Reina Mora EP, which finds the veteran trio continuing to fuse Argentian folk traditons and modern electronic production in fascinating new ways. For this playlist they created specially for The Dowsers, they salute the artists who’ve been at the frontlines of Latin American musical revolutions dating back to the 1940s up to today.“LatAm Gamechangers is a playlist of Latin American musicians that are of defining influence in our band’s opinion. Their approach to LatAm folklore music was daring for their time. They took risks and, in some particular cases, they experimented with elements, sounds, and arrangements that sometimes took decades for the audience and even other musicians to catch up with.“Take, for example, the song by Waldo De Los Rios that explores a ‘chacarera’ groove, but with synths and orchestral sounds. Keep in mind this is from Argentina, 1967! It took years for others to try anything similar."One of our favorite tracks of all time is "Juana Azurduy,” sung by Mercedes Sosa and backed by a band of true Argentinian folklore music legends. The mix of a European clavichord and timps playing next to charangos and bombos legueros is a powerful combination. (Check out Tremor’s ‘Huacal,’ which was definitely inspired by this track.) Then we have Los Jaivas and Arco Iris, mixing folklore sounds with rock influences for the first time in the southern part of the continent.“The oldest track on the playlist is from 1940s, by Alberto Ginastera, one of the pioneers in taking an orchestral approach to folkloric rhythms. From there, the playlist moves forward to the ’80s, ’90s, and even the beginning of the 2000s, and it includes different regions like Brazil, Bolivia, Mexico, and Chile too!”—Tremor

On Feb. 9, Icelandic experimental composer Jóhann Jóhannsson was found dead in his Berlin apartment. He was 48. Jóhannsson leaves behind a deep catalog of acclaimed solo albums and soundtracks (including his Academy Award-nominated scores for Sicario and The Theory of Everything). to help you navigate his vast musical universe, weve asked Glasgow-based composer Richard Luke to select 10 essential pieces. "These songs are all compelling but diverse in their ability to either sweep you away in a dream or zone you into something specific. Most of all for me, Jóhanns sense of melody had a lush darkness that I’m drawn to, particularly in The Sun’s Gone Dim and the Sky’s Turned Black. Music that can affect a grave sadness with a sense of hope, or give a happy sentiment a sense of melancholy and nostalgia——that, to me, is like life: bittersweet. These qualities came easily to Jóhann and he was comfortable and generous with his powers. This gave his scores the simple ability to make movies better, more effective, more intense, more of whatever it is they were trying to be——and then something of himself). His solo work is even more intriguing——see: ‘Part 1/ IBM 1401 Processing Unit’ and ‘Flight From the City’——in the way he pushed the form with analogue tape, signal processing, effects, noises... he could make the normal sound haunting and weird, and the weird sound perfectly normal. This playlist celebrates some of my favorites from an exceptional back-catalogue. I’m sorry he’s gone——not least because it felt like even more was just around the corner."——Richard Luke

Richard Lukes new album, Voz is out Feb. 23 on 1631 Recordings. To hear more of Richards work, visit richardluke.co.uk.

British folktronica cornerstones Tunng have just released Songs You Make at Night, their sixth record, and first from their original line-up in eleven years. And while the obvious "back to basics" cliche that implicates most likely already crossed your mind, the result really is a genuine return to form, seeing the pioneers of a genre revisit the light touch of electronic that affirmed "folktronica" to begin with. Or as Clash Music so eloquently describes, "Delicate, introspective and experimental, Tunng built a name upon their ability to intertwine vibrant tapestries of folk with warbling touches of electronica" and thats as prevalent as ever on their latest effort. To accompany their album, we asked the band to make us a playlist, and riffing off the theme of night, heres what they came up with.Says Mike Lindsay, "One of the recurring themes of the new record is how our brains create our experience of the world around us. Thats true of our waking life but especially so of our dream worlds. Imagine its the future and the consciousnesses of the six members of Tunng have been combined inside one giant artificial brain that right now is gently nodding off to sleep. Our playlist concept is Mike and I imagining the songs that would be the soundtrack to the weird and wonderful dreams of that giant brain on its night-time adventures. The psychedelic and mesmeric, the beautiful and the gentle, the simple and the melodic, the energetic and the somnambulant. We hope you like them!"Listen above or go right here.

Turning Jewels Into Water embody the ultimate global experience. Indian-born drummer and producer Ravish Momin and Haitian electronic percussionist Val Jeanty don’t only dissolve borders; they transform the way dance music moves us—both physically and emotionally. Making use of chants, polyrhythms, turntables, synths, and innovative percussive tools and techniques, the duo have created a wild, futuristic world of sound on their 2019 full-length album, <<Map of Absences>>. To fit their worldly (and otherworldly) vision, they’ve created a “Beats and Rituals” playlist for us, a mesmerizing mix of unpredictable rhythms and hypnotizing sounds that defy genre—and maybe just gravity, too.Turning Jewels Into Water say this about their picks: “Diggin’ deep into the soul of the drum machine and channeling ancestral spirits."

Columbus, Ohio’s genre-bending Twenty One Pilots pack their high-powered tunes with myriad influences, filtering dynamic pop through head-nodding reggae grooves, breakneck hip-hop beats, and even skyscraping synth blasts. While this kitchen sink approach can create the sort of mess even a smash hit hook couldn’t clean up, the duo have managed to master combos that not only result in irresistible bangers, but also positions them as an original voice in pop music.They learned from the best. Their tendency toward catchy, key-heavy hip-hop recalls Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’ team-up with Chance The Rapper, “Need To Know”; The Killers’ lit-up, synth-dipped chorus on “Spaceman” matches their rousing sing-along aesthetic; and they share the same penchant for sonic theatrics as groups like Panic! at the Disco and Fall Out Boy. By some magic, they all sound just right next to each other.