Tyler Childers is a busy guy. Since word got out that Sturgill Simpson would co-produce his recent album Purgatory, Childers has been on the radars of fans of Simpson himself, as well as anyone who enjoys the kind of rough-around-the-edges fringe country that goes down like bootleg moonshine. He’s also been touring. A lot. The Scene caught up with Childers during one of his rare weeks off, chatting via phone while he was enjoying some much-deserved downtime.
“They told me that I was going to be doing an interview, and that was the signal for me that the break is over,” Childers says with a quiet laugh.
In conversation, Childers is thoughtful and reserved, a demeanor that stands in stark contrast to the hardscrabble characters you hear in songs like Purgatory standout “I Swear (to God).” He’s at his most talkative when discussing the nuts and bolts of his music, which marries bluegrass instrumentation with a decidedly Appalachian take on the tradition-heavy outlaw country that has surged in popularity in recent years.
Where some artists experimenting in similar styles have been publicly chided for an alleged lack of “authenticity,” Childers was born and raised in Lawrence County, Ky., and knows the stories in his songs in a way that you can’t unless you’ve lived through them or been close to someone who has. Much of his writing is inspired by his Appalachian upbringing and by the region’s deep history of storytelling.
“I tend to write in little stories just because of my background and where I’m from,” he explains. “Storytelling is rich in Appalachian culture — sitting down and spinning yarns and telling tall tales and trying to one-up the guy who just told one. ... It’s the people I grew up with, the experiences, the things I grew up doing. Just the lifestyle, the everyday grind, the hardships, the values.”
Tall tales abound on Purgatory. “Banded Clovis,” built on a dark acoustic chord progression reminiscent of Lead Belly’s “In the Pines,” is told by a desperate man who turns violent when a potential windfall glimmers, just out of reach. While Childers may not have lived this particular story, you get the sense that he’s found himself just a couple of wrong turns away, or at the very least has known someone on the verge of a similar tragedy.
In many ways, Purgatory is a timely album. Opioids are wreaking havoc in Appalachia, and the region has been beneath the national microscope since the 2016 election and subsequent feverish interest in working-class white culture. That harsh reality lends a dark edge even to Purgatory’s more lighthearted tracks. Whether he wants it or not, it’s established Childers as something of an authority on the part of the country he calls home.
Childers spent years touring regionally on the strength of his 2011 debut album Bottles and Bibles and two EPs that followed. He was already eking out a comfortable existence for himself and his family, and then Simpson got involved. The beloved artist and walking middle finger to Music Row quickly took a liking to Childers, and Purgatory ended up being the first album Simpson would produce outside his own catalog.
Simpson and co-producer David Ferguson pulled together a crack band of players, including guitarist Michael J. Henderson, Simpson’s own drummer Miles Miller and fiddle virtuoso Stuart Duncan, the last of whom also boasts strong ties to Appalachia. Simpson and Ferguson allowed Childers plenty of space to experiment, guiding the sessions while making sure, as Childers explains, that the album achieved “the sound [he’s] been chasing after for a long time.”
Purgatory’s “Whitehouse Road” was released in mid-2017 to rhapsodic praise, which only got louder once the full album was released in August. Accordingly, as buzz about Purgatory became more pronounced, Childers’ schedule got a hell of a lot fuller.
“A year ago, we were playing pretty steady in our area, and I thought it was pretty busy,” he says. “Looking back on that, I think that’s kind of funny. I think that we were pretty busy this year, and the way it’s looking for next year ... I’ll be thinking how thinking this was busy is pretty funny.”
Toward the end of the interview, Childers admits that if he had his way, he’d be at home by himself — which is not to say he isn’t enjoying his time on the road, or his newfound notability. With eyes on the future, he’s adjusting to his new lifestyle, and finding ways for his songwriting to follow suit.
“You’ve gotta write in the environment the world gives ya, and that’s the place that I’m at right now,” he says. “So I’m working with it.”
Email music@nashvillescene.com
