About That Song #21
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
In the 21st installment of this series, I connected with Mother Banjo! Ellen Stanley not only performs as Mother Banjo, she’s also DJ of Womenfolk Radio on KFAI and co-host of a podcast called Back Catalog Listening Party. We had a great chat about the songs that impacted her songwriting and musical journey.
Sarah: Hello Mother Banjo!
Oh, it is so good to get a chance to catch up with you. Congratulations on the 10th anniversary of the release of your album The Devil Hasn’t Won. And you’re releasing it for the first time on vinyl—what a birthday gift to give your beautiful album! Here at About That Song, I’m fascinated by the particular songs that have been important steps along the way of someone’s writerly journey. In addition to making your own music, you happen to be a fantastic DJ, so I know you have a deep library of songs to choose from. I can’t wait to hear which ones have leapt out to you. Let’s start! Do you remember the song that you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Mother Banjo: It was probably Dar Williams’ “When I Was a Boy.” I first heard her sing it at my summer camp in Vermont when I was 13—a time when hearing a young woman sing a song about growing up and trying to figure out where you fit into a ridiculously gendered world was so powerful. Although I was always drawn to songwriting in the rock and pop music I liked (U2, Carole King, REM, Sinead O’Connor) there was something about hearing someone perform a song with just a guitar on a wooden camp stage. It’s like she just exposed her soul to us. But it wasn’t embarrassing. It was beautiful and powerful in its nakedness, and all the teenage girls I sat with on that dusty floor felt seen in a way that most of us never had before.
I didn’t think I’d ever be able to write or sing a song like that, but I knew I wanted to surround myself with storytellers like Dar who write songs that matter. I honestly never thought I would be playing my own songs in front of anyone, but looking back, I think Dar made it seem attainable, accessible and a totally normal thing to do. It’s been very special to get to know her over the years and see the way she lives the songs she sings, supporting women artists and trying to better the community. Getting to play with her at the Cedar recently was honestly one of the most special moments for me. My teenage self never would’ve believed it!
Sarah: Wow! What an origin story! Congrats on that beautiful full circle moment. Knowing you as a songwriter and as a light-bearer in our community, this story makes so much sense. Of course you would become an artist, a truth-teller, a bringer-together-er! Also, my much-older-than-13-year-old self still needs to hear those kinds of songs.
Once you began writing, did you feel like a songwriter immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it for myself. Was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Mother Banjo: I’d written songs before on piano (my first instrument) but was never happy with them. I kind of figured songwriting wasn’t for me and pursued other interests in college, keeping musical performance and creative writing as separate pursuits. After graduating and moving to Minnesota, I bought a banjo and started taking lessons at Homestead Pickin’ Parlor in Richfield. Although I started learning traditional 3-finger and clawhammer styles, I was far more interested in accompanying myself singing than just picking. I started playing covers (old gospel songs, John Prine tunes, anything simple).
Then, one day I was just playing around with different sounds on the banjo and started this rhythmic, somewhat hypnotic downstroke strum where I hit the head of the banjo on the backbeat. I loved the sound it made and started playing around on my newest chord I had learned (A minor). I started singing over it and started writing the lyrics, fleshing out a poem I had started. I bashfully brought it to my banjo teacher Russ Rayfield, confessing I wasn’t playing a “real” banjo style. He laughed and said, “Of course you are—one you invented! That’s so cool!” That song was “Square Envelope” and is one I still play and am proud of. And that percussive style of banjo playing remains a core part to the Mother Banjo sound.
Sarah: I love that there was this sense of “playing around” that led you to an instrumental discovery, and a song that you still play today. Cheers to your teacher for the encouragement of your signature style! Your song, “New” is one of my favorites off of The Devil Hasn’t Won. The sweet offering of “I wanna be new for you” gets me every time. Can you tell us about that song; both its initial writing and perhaps how the song has changed for you in the decade since its release?
Mother Banjo: The song started with a line inspired by Thoreau’s Walden, a book I find pretty annoyingly self-righteous but that has tons of sweet little nuggets—guess that’s why it’s so quotable! The line was about observing the corn growing up overnight. It was such a great image, I wrote the first line “I grew fast in fall like corn in night.” Although I first had an image of a teenage girl growing up too quickly when I wrote the line, I was writing it when I was starting a new relationship. I was thinking about all the ways we bring our baggage with us from previous relationships and how we like to think we’re starting fresh. We never really can, but that desire to be better for someone else is kind of what love is all about.
Sarah: It is certainly a beautiful place to aim your arrow.
Mother Banjo: The song goes through the seasons of a failed relationship—from messing up (fall), going in for reflection and hibernation (winter), trying to start again (spring), and hopefully yielding something new (summer). I really love “New” because it’s a universal song of redemption, and it can be interpreted in so many different ways—a parent/child relationship, a romantic relationship or a spiritual crisis. In fact, I recorded the song twice. I first did a darker indie/folk version for my 2011 EP Stray Songs, a collection of story songs about sinners, cheaters and other characters struggling to be better. This version has more of a confessional feeling. Since my gospel album that followed is really just the Part II of the sinning album, I recorded this same song again as a brighter band version focusing on the hope for a new beginning.
Sarah: Oh, what a gift to your song to record it from these different heart-spaces—especially when a song contains such a sense of truth and elasticity.
Another standout track for me is “No Waiting.” You sing “my heart is in halves” and “the world is a mess.” Ten years ago, I imagine this would have meant one thing to you, and possibly it’s taken on a different or additional meaning in the time that has passed. Can you tell us about that song?
Mother Banjo: My heart might be in a better place than it was 10 years ago, but the world certainly isn’t. But generally I am an optimist (hence the album title The Devil Hasn’t Won), and I feel like you have to believe that change is possible—in our personal lives and the world, which is full of violence and injustice. I feel like we all find it easier to make excuses and put things off, waiting for God or someone else to fix things rather than live in the now and make positive change. I personally believe that we don’t have to wait for God or some savior to come down to make things happen because that force for good is already here. When I pay attention, I see it at work all around us. That’s at the heart of all the songs on the album, even the ones I didn’t write (like Dave Carter’s amazing song “Any Way I Do”).
Sarah: I couldn’t agree more—I am fully signed up for the necessity of believing in the possibility of change, and that in paying attention we can’t help but notice good at work. As an artist, and in your work as a DJ and a show host, and a festival organizer, you lead by example, so thank you so much for both offering this good work to us in song, and in action.
Last question: In the liner notes for the reissue, you mention that these songs are meant to be listened to “surrounded by loved ones while enjoying pancakes or cocktails.” Which song are you pairing with pancakes? Which song are you pairing with cocktails? Which cocktail are you pairing with pancakes?
Mother Banjo: Ha! Well, I think it totally depends on mood, company and time of day, but I guess I would say that “Rise Up, Sinner” is probably best with coffee and pancakes. Then you’ll want some protein and veggies for “Lots of Ways to Go Wrong” and then maybe a fun cocktail as we get to “No Waiting” and “We Are Witness”—songs about living in the moment and living more fully and meaningfully for and with those you love. In short, I support any kind of food or beverage that is shared and helps you show up for your community and those that love you.
Sarah: Excellent! Anytime one person gathers with another person around shared food or beverage and music, an angel gets its wings, right? Or something like that. Thank you so much for talking with us today.
Mother Banjo celebrates the 10th anniversary and limited vinyl release of her Americana gospel album The Devil Hasn’t Won on Sunday November 26 at The Dakota in Minneapolis! Featuring special guests Mary Bue, Nyssa Krause (The Foxgloves, Superior Siren) and opener Annie Mack.
WRITTEN BY SARAH MORRIS
READ MORE FROM ADVENTURES IN AMERICANA>>