Independent's Day Radio

The United States and Great Britain have a long history of circuitous and reciprocal cultural influence. Rural American blues musicians begat an entire generation of British guitar players in the 1960s and the stream continues to flow both ways. Singer-songwriter Dan Korn is part of the newer Internet-native generations to tap into this artistic bonhomie. His songs are hushed and consonant, with no small hat tip to the king of underappreciated British folk singers, Nick Drake. But Korn isn't afraid to fill out his sound with electric guitars and other traditional rock and roll instrumentation in order to provide dynamic contrast. And his songs provide ample opportunities for songwriting and arranging malleability - because inhumed in these lilting melodies and airy fingerpicked acoustic guitar parts are sharp, incisive lyrics that reveal an honesty and a keen sense of detail that Korn wisely uses to help keep the songs from becoming too precious. The ten songs that make up his new album, Of the Sea, provide a

Austin McCutchen is a rambler; a young singer-songwriter who wanders - and who wanders with intent - and the characters, experiences and epiphanies large and small that he has along the way form the backbones of his traditionalist country songs. McCutchen wears a hat and boots, but he's no modern urban cowboy country-pop poster boy. There is dirt on his boots and sweat on the brim of his hat and his songs have a timeless quality that make them feel instantly familiar; it's the kind of authenticity that Detroit co-opts and tries to use to sell pickup trucks. McCutchen's rich baritone is the voice of a trustworthy narrator - a man whose heartache and vulnerability is palpable in the verses and whose resignation and wisdom quietly ambles around by the refrain. His writing is the kind of open-spaces Americana found in the tradition of country singers who favor the mountains of the American west over Nashville or the plains of Texas. It's a style that makes grand subjects sound intimate and small subjects sound gr

Nellie Clay came to Nashville by way of rural Alaska, where she'd spent the better part of the last decade living more or less off the grid. In remote parts of the world without modern conveniences and distractions like electricity and televisions people are forced to entertain themselves - and one another - in the manner in which humans have been doing so since time immemorial, by passing around instruments and singing songs. Clay had fallen into this sort of primitive existence after years of restoring early Russian paintings in Minnesota. A vacation to America's largest and northernmost state planted a seed in her soul that would soon grow into a limitless forest with a magnetic pull that she felt called to inhabit. In short order, Clay gave away most of her possessions and lit out for Alaska. In that simpler, Thoreauvian setting she experienced a musical rebirth that was kindled by the rich, local campfire folk music scene. When numerous musicians travelling through town urged Clay to consider a move to N

Classical music composer Sean Hickey grew up like so many musicians of his generation - forming a band with his friends and blasting Van Halen covers to anyone who would listen, but Hickey's musical calling ran both deeper and wider than the pop and rock music that was en vogue during his formative years. He studied jazz guitar and composition in college and began working for a music publishing house in his native Michigan until he decided that writing world-class music necessitated moving to a world class city. Since taking up residence in New York City, his career as an in-demand composer has flourished, and Hickey now has a steady schedule of performances around the world. He has composed symphonies, concertos, pieces for string trios and quartets, music for a children's play, a film score, as well as receiving eight consecutive ASCAP awards. In the last two years alone his works have been performed in New York, San Francisco, Detroit, Washington, Russia, Spain, Portugal, England, Ireland, Indonesia and Br

Fairbanks and the Lonesome Light got their start when two Texas natives found themselves playing in different ensembles in the Austin music scene. When Erik Flores and Amelia Rose Logan closed the circle and decided to work together, both music and romance blossomed and the pair wound up in Los Angeles' Echo Park neighborhood - an artistically-fertile enclave which is currently the home of a rich and vibrant west coast-style of Americana music. Now based once again in familiar surroundings back in Austin, Flores and Logan have assembled a six-piece band to fully realize their musical vision. Texas flavors and influences abound on their eponymous debut; there are dusty boots, faded jeans, wistful waltzes, at least one snake tattoo, burning Telecaster licks, tequila, and aching and broken-hearted two-part harmonies - all of which is set against an expansive sky. Best of all, Fairbanks and the Lonesome Light's songs hold up to these tried-and-true topics that make up the best of the earnest-but-blurry line where

Saying that you are famous in a faraway country is both a punchline and a ruse used by many performers to cover for a lackluster career at home. Australia's Mia Dyson was born the daughter of a blues musician and guitar luthier, and she made the jump from listening to her parents' well-curated record collection to being an established singer, songwriter and guitarist by the time she was 22 years old. Her formative years were spent in a bucolic beach community outside of Melbourne; not the usual breeding ground for the gutsy blues and roots music that would make her famous in her homeland. Her debut album, Cold Water, created enough buzz to send her on international tours to several continents where she played major festivals, sat in with the Mothers of Invention and opened for Ani DiFranco in New York's Central Park. Back home, she supported Eric Clapton on a sold out Australian tour and was making a respectable living as a musician. But the allure of success in the US was a siren call, so Dyson moved to Bost

David Serby is a stalwart member of Los Angeles' vibrant roots music community. He's a local boy, born in North Hollywood, and aside from leading his own band (The Latest Scam) and playing bass for other artists, Serby co-founded The California Roots Union, an advocacy group with a stated mission of "preserving and promoting the California roots music scene, upholding its long legacy and fostering new talent." It's enough to make any mortal musician tired just thinking about it. When asked if he's something other than mortal, or if, perhaps, his days have an extra hour or two, and Serby will politely demur - but his resume speaks otherwise. He is a prolific songwriter who has released five albums to date, the most recent of which is an eponymous double-disc set comprised of twenty songs that were culled from the fifty-odd songs he'd complied since his prior record. The David Serby and The Latest Scam record also marked a stylistic shift from the reputation he'd built as a country musician with a closet jones

Michael Chinworth spent his formative years in Lancaster, Pennsylvania and rural Indiana before landing at Bennington College in Vermont to study music composition. After graduation, he was looking for a bigger pond with more opportunities and he decided to send himself packing to New York City. But after five years grinding it out in bands in Brooklyn and beyond, an opportunity presented itself in Vermont and Chinworth found himself back in the Green Mountain State a wiser young man. With his new album, Rudder Songs, Chinworth showcases his considerable skills as a vocalist and exhibits his angular chops on the piano while interpreting ten Ben Folds-meets-Steely Dan songs composed by his prolific friend, Trevor Wilson, along with an original composition of his own. While many artists would be content to take a lightweight digital keyboard on tour, Chinworth recently crossed the country playing a series of dates while remaining dutifully devoted to carrying a cumbersome Rhodes piano to every gig. And it's th

El Twanguero's blend of American western swing, gypsy jazz and the folk music of his native Spain is a simmering musical tour de force that he serves up hot. You don't take up the stage name El Twanguero if you can't play the guitar, and play he does. Tempos are ramped up, fingers race up and down the guitar neck and countless hours of practice are evident when he performs. El Twanguero's effortless and blistering performance style is a testament to what happens when innate talent is polished and focused by diligent hard work, and his discipline has paid off in spades. He has recorded five albums and toured internationally - including Europe, and both the North and South American continents. He has earned two Latin Grammy awards and an impressive list of accolades that laud his pioneering work in his own brand of Latin twang. El Twanguero exemplifies what might be a virtuoso's most important accomplishment - making it look easy. But El Twanguero is a professional at the top of his game. Don't try this at home

Fergheart’s Craig Ferguson is an accomplished musician with well over a thousand gigs to his credit. He leads an award-winning bluegrass ensemble, has spent seven years backing roots music mashup master Cliff Wagner, has numerous performance credits on live television and over fifty placements on film and TV. Through innate talent and hard work, Ferguson has established himself as a go-to player in Los Angeles and beyond. But the hustle of a new-millennium career in music can take its toll, and Ferguson recently found himself suffering from a bit of technophobia, as the constant din of the Internet became more of a bane than a benefit. So he turned once again to music, forming Fergheart to provide an ensemble to showcase his own laid-back brand of breezy, soulful folk music. In Fergheart, Ferguson slows down the frenetic modern pace and uses songs as time machines to glide back to a simpler time when humans played real instruments on well-crafted songs with ambling tempos and hummable melodies. When Ferguson

Sean Watkins has been a professional musician since he wasn't yet old enough to drive. Along with his talented sister, Sara, Watkins formed the progressive acoustic trio Nickel Creek after meeting mandolin virtuoso Chris Thile at a pizza parlor bluegrass jam in North County, San Diego when they were still kids in 1990. The chemistry between the three young musicians was rare and palpable, and it wasn't long before bluegrass stalwart Alison Krauss was producing what would become their third album. After expanding their sound over their next two releases and winning a Grammy for This Side, Nickel Creek went on a hiatus for seven years, returning with their acclaimed fifth album, A Dotted Line in 2014. Never one to let dust settle, Watkins regularly has multiple projects going at any time, with the ongoing decade-plus residency at Los Angeles' Largo - billed as The Watkins Family Hour - as the center of a musical universe that has included Jon Brion, Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, Greg Leisz, Don Heffington, Glen P

In 2014, composer and pianist Michael Alfera was struggling with life choices and had an epiphany while hiking with a friend. He'd been looking for a new path in his life and his friend asked him some version of that telling question, "What would you do with your life if money wasn't an issue?" In answering, Alfera's truth tumbled out - he would start a choir. Inspired by the clarity of pursuing a crazy idea, he dug out some numbers of the many professional singers he knew around Los Angeles. "Would you be interested in being part of a new choral ensemble?" was his elevator pitch, and nearly every person he contacted said that they'd love to sing in Alfera's group. Over and over, he heard singers say that although they had many opportunities to sing, they missed the kind of challenging, mostly a capella choral music they'd sung in college and that they just didn't have a place to do it. Clearly, the interest was there on the part of the performers, but would there be an audience for a new choral ensemble in L

Sarah Kramer is a rare bird. Her principal is trumpet, and her mastery of that instrument has earned her a career in which she has rubbed elbows and shared stages with legends like Bo Diddley, Leonard Cohen and Levon Helm. She got her start in New Jersey, studied music in college in New York City and spent some time in Taos, New Mexico, but she soon found that she suffered from a sort of musical diaspora. Through all her travels, the music and culture of New Orleans felt most like home, so she relocated to the Crescent City and immersed herself in the local scene. For eight years, she played every style she could manage - blues, jazz, latin, brass band, reggae, klezmer, alternative rock - as well as fronting her own band, The Sarah Kramer Project. She was living the dream and making a living in music, but the seeker in her implored her to push herself out of her comfort zone, so she relocated to Los Angeles and began to focus on her own unique style of songwriting and composition. Her 2013 solo release, Home,

Take one look at Los Angeles-based musician Chris Laterzo and you'll have a pretty good idea what his music sounds like. He's scruffy, with unkempt hair, a 4-day shave and a sleepy-eyed grin; he could easily be a character from one of his own travelling songs who stumbled out of the van and into the desert to chase a butterfly. But Laterzo is no slacker dope - there is a bit of Renaissance Man in his musings, and although he pays his bills with a teacher's salary when he's not on the road, his overall affect is that he's a sage moonlighting as a teacher and not the other way around. Laterzo's five albums are filled with rockers, twangers and waltzes, and like Neil Young, the legacy artist that serves as his stylistic magnetic north, Laterzo is equally comfortable singing about spaceships as he is the juniper and pinon blurring past his window on an all-night drive to the next gig. The usual complement of Americana instrumentation is on full display on his newest release, West Coast Sound; acoustic and electri

Technology has changed nearly everything about the way music is made and enjoyed, and it's easy to lament the ways in which it divides and exploits artists. Illegal downloading and questionable revenue dispensation from streaming services have seen artists' incomes plummet, and label support has all but vanished in the new paradigm. It's enough to make musicians hang up their hats and consider getting out of the racket altogether - but there is a light side of The Force. The proliferation of affordable digital audio and video recording gear has made it easier than ever for artists to make high-quality music at home, and the Internet and social media allow innovative artists to find their fans and reach them directly. Circe Link and her partner, Christian Nesmith, would likely have had a successful career in music in any era, but they've built a substantial fan base by capitalizing on these new channels better than most performers in the new millennium. Link has nearly ten albums in her catalog and Nesmith's

Simone White comes by her musical talent honestly; her grandmother performed in burlesque shows, her grandfather wrote poetry, her mother played folk music and her aunt wrote pop songs. With this kind of pedigree, it is no surprise that White's quirky compositions display the kind of assured quality earned by generations in the arts. Though born in Hawaii and currently residing in California, White's music bears no distinctly American geographical earmarks. Instead, electronic textures blend with hushed guitars to create a prescient sonic palette over which she sings introspective lyrics in a hushed, breathy voice. The effect is vaguely and satisfyingly British, which makes sense given that she is signed to the Honest Jon's Record Company, a record label that is run by the English artist Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz. There also are stylistic nods to artists as disparate as hushed folk hero Nick Drake and boundary-smashing St. Vincent spread across White's four albums, making her music at once modern and

In the world of music, earnestness can be passe, or even perceived as inauthentic. Care too much, or smile with anything other than a sultry or irreverent sneer and you can lose your cred; but there is another way. Singer and songwriter Risa Binder started her career in music in New York City, but she soon found herself saving up money from waitressing shifts for trips to Nashville, Tennessee. There, in the undisputed epicenter of country music, she immersed herself in the local music scene and earned what she refers to as a graduate degree in the genre by making the rounds at songwriters' circles and frequenting the Bluebird Cafe - the legendary proving ground for both aspiring and established songwriters. And it's here that her indelible spirit and unfailing positivity come into play. It could be said that Binder's avocation is happiness and music is merely her medium, and she is perfectly comfortable in the stylistic nexus between country and pop music that is ruling country music in the new millennium. Sh

Angela Easterling currently lives on a South Carolina farm that has been in her family since 1791. In a nation of transplants and immigrants that’s nearly an eternity, and this grounding connection with the land permeates her music with a sense of the realities of the beauty, joy, tragedy and drudgery of what makes up a life. Easterling didn’t always make the family farm her home - she was brave and crazy enough to move to Los Angeles to pursue her dreams in music, but the parable of finding that what one is looking can be under one’s feet is certainly applicable to her career. Easterling knows the value of hard work, and over the course of several albums her songs have earned her accolades in songwriting circles as well as topped the Americana Top 40 chart. Though her most recent album, Common Law Wife, was recorded in Nashville, her new batch of songs finds Easterling singing about the life she has created on that farm in South Carolina with her partner, facile guitarist Brandon Turner, and their growing fa

Drummer and musician Don Heffington’s credit list is so long as to be nearly unprintable. He started out in the early 1970s, and he has had a steady career since, backing up artists of all stripes - from lesser known bands to numerous acts who have become household names. A fractional sampling from his resume includes Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris, Joe Walsh, Lucinda Williams, The Jayhawks, Buddy Miller, k.d. lang, The Wallflowers, Sheryl Crow, Dwight Yoakam, Joe Cocker and countless others, so it’s no wonder his phone continues to ring. It isn’t so much flash that he brings to a recording session or live gig, but more of an affable, no-BS approach to making music that makes it easy to have him around. On top of steady session work, one of his current regular gigs is playing drums for the reigning kings and queens of the scene at Los Angeles’ Largo, The Watkins Family Hour, where Heffington shares the communal and creative vibe with former Nickel Creek members Sara and Sean Watkins, along with Fiona Apple, Benmon

Tawny Ellis was on tour in 2014 when she and and her band passed through Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Unlike other small southern towns, Muscle Shoals is well known due to its rich musical history that is anchored by legendary recording studios. Both FAME Studios and Muscle Shoals Sound Studio - as well as the group of local musicians that became the back up band for the equally legendary artists that recorded there - call the sleepy, backwoods southern town home. The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett, Paul Simon, Bob Seger and Rod Stewart are just some of the names from the list of musicians who have made the trek to Muscle Shoals to make music. Knowing this history, Ellis had some time in her schedule for a stop and decided to take a tour of FAME Studios. The building at FAME isn’t very large and at the end of the short tour Ellis asked if she could meet FAME owner and co-founder Rick Hall, who she had caught a glimpse of as they walked around the facility. Hall agreed to meet them, and