Aaron Lewis has always seemed to be on the outside.

Founder and lead singer of hard rock group Staind, Lewis found great success during the last decade with his soulful, heart-wrenching lyrics soaked in razor-sharp guitar chords. Yet, whenever someone tried to categorize the sound, it never seemed to fit anywhere — too hard for mainstream listeners, too mainstream for rock elitists. And thus lies the constant state of affairs for Lewis. 

It’s the sound of the ancient mountains, the unique people and rich culture of Southern Appalachia.

It’s the sound of Soldier’s Heart.

Filled with the musical attitudes of bluegrass, old-time country and early rock-n-roll, the band is influenced as much by Bill Monroe as The Band, as much by Johnny Cash as The Grateful Dead. It’s about creating something bigger than yourself, about embracing the deep roots of mountain music, incorporating it into modern times, and sharing it with those family and friends you care about most. 

When finding your artistic voice, it’s about moving forward and not looking back, being true to yourself and refusing to run around in well-worn circles of creativity.

When he didn’t have the money to purchase a banjo, Joshua Grant took matters into his own hands.

“I couldn’t afford what I wanted, so I decided to build one,” he said.

A native of the Nantahala Gorge, the 31-year-old recently launched Grant Custom Banjos, a business that constructs handmade instruments as unique and full of character as Grant himself. 

It was a decade in the making, but its origins are hundreds of years old.

Partnering with the Blue Ridge National Heritage Area, the North Carolina Arts Council recently launched its latest initiative – the Blue Ridge Music Trails of North Carolina. Encompassing 29 counties in Western North Carolina, the trails were created to preserve, interpret and promote these rich pockets of music and dance that have had a profound impact on American culture and beyond.

Rhiannon Giddens is an old soul, but one that embraces modernity.

Vocalist/fiddler of renowned Americana string band the Carolina Chocolate Drops, Giddens is a jack-of-all-trades in not only her instrumentation but also her exploration of the history and evolution of American music.

“Once in awhile you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right…”
– Grateful Dead “Scarlet Begonias”

If the Grateful Dead taught us anything through their music, it would be the mere fact that surprises, in all shapes and sizes, can come from the most unexpected of encounters and corners of the universe.

The town of Sylva is one of those corners.

John Driskell Hopkins was driving in his truck when it struck him.

It was a song. Radiating from his satellite radio, it sounded like a fond memory he once knew. The voices and melody were familiar, but he hadn’t ever heard it before, and had no idea who wrote it. He looked at the radio. A band name appeared in the digital display: Balsam Range.

Pulling into a row of unimposing metal garage-sized storage units on Frazier Street in Waynesville, the sound of buzzing is heard.

You think maybe the truck heater is finally kicking on and combating the cold December morning, or it’s the usual hustle and bustle of traffic on the highway bypass. Yet, the source of the noise seems to be echoing from a slightly cracked garage bay at the end of the row.

Chris Robinson is a freak‚ a damn musical freak.

Finally wrangling everything into the studio with his freewheelin’ solo project‚ Robinson has already released two albums this year (Big Moon Ritual and The Magic Door)‚ both of which could be considered cornerstone records for any group.