Laurel, half of the duo that is
Red Tail Ring, met with me at a coffee shop in Ann Arbor, MI - the town in
which we both went to college - to talk about influences on the group's music,
their growing success, and the traditional music community in Michigan.
I’m not super familiar with the folk music scene in Michigan, so it was fascinating to learn about some of the great things that are going on. Laurel spoke highly of EarthWorks music collective, which she described as a “really great family of folk artists, working together to benefit the environment.”
We discussed the place and the influences of different kinds of spaces at length. Laurel grew up in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan “in the middle of the woods,” but the pair went to college in Ann Arbor and now live in Kalamazoo. I wondered whether the relative urban-ness of those areas led to a distinct sound, or if there was a city/country tension. According to Laurel: “That’s a pretty easy dichotomy to label. Contemporary, urban folk music.” She went on to describe how hearing traditional Scandinavian and French Canadian music in the UP caused her to appreciate that style, but “the diversity of a city” also had a great influence.
Red Tail Ring’s captivating lyrics are a large part of why I listen to them, so I asked Laurel about her songwriting process. She says that she and Michael both write lyrics separately, and then bring them “to the table” for review. Given the difficulty of collaboration, I can see how this process would work well. Where does she get the ideas for such unique and fascinating songs as “Sugarwine,” which compares the beauty of life to enjoying a sweet wine, or “My Ole’ Friends,” which laments the exodus of young college companions from the Midwest?
“A little bit of everywhere.” She went on to explain that sometimes they try to use the conventions of the traditional mountain songs they play, asking “what makes this so thrilling to us?” Often it has to do with the pattern and form. Asked for an example, she presented the banjo ballad, in which the banjo plays a melody and then a voice sings that same melody, and the song intersperses banjo and voice, “almost like the banjo and the voice are one voice” or “a conversation.” She later sent me a track from her new album to exemplify this form.
When I asked for Laurel's perspective on Red Tail Ring's growing success (they packed the Crazy Wisdom Tea Room in Ann Arbor the night before, and I’ve seen their name on flyers around the state), Laurel displayed genuine modesty. “I’m glad that we’re making a very simple living. That's really all that we can ask for. And be able to be creative…and bring something to people. That's....the very simple definition of success.”
Regarding her plans for the future, she wants to continue to widen their circle outside Michigan. So far their tours have mostly taken place in the Midwest, with some on the east and west coasts. They travel in a van – “it’s totally old school” – and enjoy long journeys.They are going to keep on growing, continuing their "very slow and healthy build.”
I’m not super familiar with the folk music scene in Michigan, so it was fascinating to learn about some of the great things that are going on. Laurel spoke highly of EarthWorks music collective, which she described as a “really great family of folk artists, working together to benefit the environment.”
We discussed the place and the influences of different kinds of spaces at length. Laurel grew up in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan “in the middle of the woods,” but the pair went to college in Ann Arbor and now live in Kalamazoo. I wondered whether the relative urban-ness of those areas led to a distinct sound, or if there was a city/country tension. According to Laurel: “That’s a pretty easy dichotomy to label. Contemporary, urban folk music.” She went on to describe how hearing traditional Scandinavian and French Canadian music in the UP caused her to appreciate that style, but “the diversity of a city” also had a great influence.
Red Tail Ring’s captivating lyrics are a large part of why I listen to them, so I asked Laurel about her songwriting process. She says that she and Michael both write lyrics separately, and then bring them “to the table” for review. Given the difficulty of collaboration, I can see how this process would work well. Where does she get the ideas for such unique and fascinating songs as “Sugarwine,” which compares the beauty of life to enjoying a sweet wine, or “My Ole’ Friends,” which laments the exodus of young college companions from the Midwest?
“A little bit of everywhere.” She went on to explain that sometimes they try to use the conventions of the traditional mountain songs they play, asking “what makes this so thrilling to us?” Often it has to do with the pattern and form. Asked for an example, she presented the banjo ballad, in which the banjo plays a melody and then a voice sings that same melody, and the song intersperses banjo and voice, “almost like the banjo and the voice are one voice” or “a conversation.” She later sent me a track from her new album to exemplify this form.
When I asked for Laurel's perspective on Red Tail Ring's growing success (they packed the Crazy Wisdom Tea Room in Ann Arbor the night before, and I’ve seen their name on flyers around the state), Laurel displayed genuine modesty. “I’m glad that we’re making a very simple living. That's really all that we can ask for. And be able to be creative…and bring something to people. That's....the very simple definition of success.”
Regarding her plans for the future, she wants to continue to widen their circle outside Michigan. So far their tours have mostly taken place in the Midwest, with some on the east and west coasts. They travel in a van – “it’s totally old school” – and enjoy long journeys.They are going to keep on growing, continuing their "very slow and healthy build.”



