Korby talks with Texas singer-songwriter Hayes Carll about his 10th record We're Only Human, writing intentionally for an album as a piece for the first time, the two-phase creative process of free creation and editing, catching lightning bolts vs. honing craft, the monkey mind, journaling, The Artist's Way morning pages, growing up a latchkey kid in The Woodlands, the Kenny Rogers greatest hits tape, hearing Dylan at the Unitarian Church at 15, Crystal Beach dive bars, Bob's Sports Bar, the Old Quarter Acoustic Cafe, Townes Van Zandt, the fear of being defined by a funny song, Todd Snider and Ray Wiley Hubbard's advice, humor and vulnerability in songwriting, midlife reassessment, scaling down ambitions, sobriety and stillness, Milan Kundera, Captain James Cook, social media anxiety, the handprint man story, and co-writing with MC Taylor. Hayes performs "I Think I'll Stay Here a While" live.

The Brook and the Bluff members Joseph Settine and Alec Bolton came over to talk about Werewolf, their new record - and a conscious departure from the studio experimentation of their last few releases. After years of working with producer Micah Tawlks - chasing sounds, layering tracks, driving a mobile studio into the mountains of north Georgia - they went back to the room. Five guys plugged in, reacting to each other live. Joseph calls it getting back to that 15-year-old teaching himself guitar in his bedroom. Alec calls it the thing that made it worth playing in the first place.

The conversation also covers how drummer John Canada saved the band by showing up with his Type A brain and a question nobody else had thought to ask, why Birmingham is a sneaky music town, the tension between experimentation and identity, and Alec’s observation that the live show might be the last place where a group of people are fully present with each other. Then the full band played ”Can’t Figure It Out” and baby Zuzu got so amped she did the Arsenio arm from across the room.

🎥 Watch the full conversation on YouTube

🎸 Watch the Brook and the Bluff perform “Can’t Figure It Out

AFTER THE CONVERSATION

After the Conversation is my paid essay series where I keep thinking after the microphones are off. This week it's a short story loosely based on real life, that ends with a thought I think most musicians have had at least once: someday I will be glad I did this. I'll take a shower tomorrow.

Korby talks with Canadian singer-songwriter Donovan Woods about his new album Squander Your Gifts, the deliberate restraint in his songwriting, growing up around reticent men, the reluctant narrator, words-first writing process, Paul Simon and Bob Dylan, leaving small-town Ontario to be an actor in Toronto, the Canadian grant system, why he won't learn production or improve at guitar, the specialist vs. generalist path, James McMurtry, recovery and uniting your two halves, divorce, co-parenting, conflict as the source of language, poetry, and Seamus Heaney. Donovan performs "I Talk About You" live on acoustic guitar.

Korby talks with Travis Book and Andy Hall of The Infamous Stringdusters about their 20-year history, the new 20-song album, the shift from searching to coming home in their sound, being elder statesmen of progressive bluegrass, IBMA and the bluegrass support system, the democratic process of running a five-person band, self-promotion, the business side of music, the Black Keys documentary, basic decency on a tour bus, cover songs and context, Travis on fatherhood and sacrifice, honoring a calling versus chasing a dream, and the Telluride Troubadour contest. The full 5 peice band performs "Working Man Blues" live.

Korby Lenker talks with singer-songwriter and Zac Brown Band member Caroline Jones about her new album Good Omen, growing up in Connecticut and discovering country music at the Bluebird, the tension between privilege and credibility, the craft of collaboration, Nashville session players, finding her co-writing tribe, the pursuit of instrumental mastery, flat-picking, Zac Brown as a "people collector," releasing her first major label record, navigating motherhood and touring, and the moral courage behind "No Tellin'." Caroline performs "No Tellin'" live on acoustic guitar.

Korby talks with singer-songwriter Bre Kennedy about her new album The Alchemist, nearly quitting music, caregiving for her grandmother, reconnecting with her estranged mother, the song she wrote with Lori McKenna that started it all, Brandi Carlile's influence, letting go of metrics, and what it means to choose light when the industry won't choose it for you. Bre performs "Before I Have a Daughter" live on acoustic guitar.

Craig Shelburne is a Nashville-based music journalist, author, and festival producer. He grew up in rural Nebraska, moved to Nashville in 1994, and spent 13 years at CMT where he launched the influential roots music blog CMT Edge. He's written for Rolling Stone, the Bluegrass Situation, MusicRow, the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, and many other outlets. Craig currently serves as festival producer for AmericanaFest, programming the nighttime showcases for the Americana Music Association. His first book, 100 Years of Grand Ole Opry: A Celebration of the Artists, the Fans, and the Home of Country Music, was published in April 2025. His next book, Killin' Time: My Life and Music—a memoir co-written with Clint Black—arrives May 19, 2026.

In This Episode:

Writing 100 years of Opry history in 18 months with historian Brenda Colladay

The decision to tell the real story—setbacks, bad calls, and all

Discovering the complete audio of James Brown's 1979 Opry performance

Growing up on TNN in Nebraska and moving to Nashville at 19

13 years at CMT and the launch of CMT Edge

The art of the seven-minute interview: asking questions artists actually want to answer

Programming AmericanaFest: 1,500 submissions, 200 slots, and the philosophy of fit

Writing Clint Black's memoir on the tour bus

Why no two Opry shows have ever been the same

Links

100 Years of Grand Ole Opry

Americana Music Association

The Bluegrass Situation

For anyone who’s spent time around Nashville music over the last few decades, rocker Will Hoge is a familiar and trusted presence. He’s one of those artists whose name carries weight not because of hype, but because of longevity—someone who’s written great songs, toured relentlessly, survived multiple versions of the industry, and earned deep respect from musicians and listeners alike. Even if you don’t know his catalog intimately, you’ve likely felt his influence somewhere along the way. This conversation is less about where he’s been than about what it takes to stay awake inside a long creative life.

One of the questions hovering beneath our conversation is what actually changes once the thing you’ve been working toward finally happens. Not success in the abstract, but the lived version of it: recognition, momentum, a song that lands. Will has been inside music long enough to know that “making it” doesn’t resolve anything. If anything, it complicates the story. In his case, it forced a reckoning with which parts of the work still felt alive—and which had begun to feel merely functional.

We talked about how easily momentum can replace intention. How a career can keep expanding even as your connection to it kind of thins out. Will was candid about the period when larger audiences and bigger opportunities didn’t bring deeper satisfaction, and how unsettling it was to realize that the things he’d chased for years were no longer aligned with who he was becoming. What emerged instead was a slower, more deliberate approach, one that values attention over scale and clarity over repetition.

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That recalibration was sharpened by a near fatal mo-ped accident that stopped everything cold. For a long stretch, music wasn’t just uncertain—it was impossible. Recovery meant relearning his body, his breath, and eventually his voice. Said Will: “I used to be able to sing my way out of a B-minus song.” After the accident, that wasn’t true anymore. The margin was gone. What remained was the work itself—the writing, the choices, the discipline of not letting power substitute for clarity. Limitation, in that sense, became a teacher.

This episode isn’t about hits or industry mechanics. It’s about longevity—what it takes to keep showing up without turning yourself into a product, and how staying honest often means letting go of versions of success that no longer fit. You can watch the full conversation here: and Will’s in-studio performance of “Another Planet” here.

After the Conversation

If this episode resonated, I wrote a longer personal continuation in this week’s After the Conversation. It’s less about career arcs and more about the bigger story—why I keep having these conversations, what I’m actually searching for now, and how wisdom tends to reveal itself slowly. There’s also a bonfire analogy I’m not sure works.Read After the Conversation here.