\u201cexpanded my vocabulary as to what was possible in music\u201d and \u201cbecame part of my bloodstream instantaneously.\u201d\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tIn the exclusive excerpt below, Stapleton digs into the various musical rabbit holes that <\/em>Real Time sent him down, and why he still keeps the album on regular rotation. \u201cEven though it\u2019s just two guys playing instruments, on any given track, I\u2019ll find something new to latch on to, something I didn\u2019t realize before, and try to get inside songs in a different way,\u201d he writes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tOn the Records, which will be published Nov. 17, features essays by, or conversations with, 80 musicians about the lesser-known albums that had a huge influence on them. Along with Stapleton, the book boasts contribution from Dolly Parton, Billie Eilish, Karne O, Earl Sweatshirt, Bon Iver\u2019s Justin Vernon, the Roots\u2019 Black Thought, and Willie Col\u00f3n.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tI credit this album for getting me into acoustic and bluegrass\/roots-based music. I was in my early twenties when someone put Real Time<\/em> in front of me, and I was completely enamored with the fact that it\u2019s just two guys sitting in a room playing, so full and big and lively and moving. The technical ability on display \u2014 both singing and playing \u2014 was unlike anything I\u2019d ever heard before (or since). Not only are all those things on display, but the songs from top to bottom take you on a journey. I like albums that do that.<\/p>\n\n\n \t\tEditor\u2019s picks<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n
\n\tAt the time, I was listening to a lot of country and older R&B, and the kind of outlaw country things my dad was listening to. Even though I\u2019m from east Kentucky, I didn\u2019t grow up in a bluegrass family or a family band situation that a lot of people in my part of the country had. As odd as that sounds, I never really crossed paths with that music. There was a lot of it around there, but it was just not part of my household.<\/p>\n
\n\tI was probably 21 or 22 years old when I first heard this, still living in Kentucky and driving an ice truck. I\u2019m guessing it was probably in 1999 or 2000, somewhere in there. I\u2019m not sure how old the record was at that point. But I am pretty sure it was Jesse Wells who played it for me. He plays fiddle and is kind of a utility guy with Tyler Childers\u2019 band now, but at the time, we were roommates. He provided my introduction to a lot of that music. Jesse was the opposite of me in that he did grow up with old-time and bluegrass music, had a wealth of knowledge, and was generous enough to share some of that with me. And listening to Real Time<\/em> expanded my vocabulary as to what was possible in music.<\/p>\n\n\tIt became part of my bloodstream instantaneously. I think that\u2019s what happens when you hear something truly moving. You are not the same after you hear it, if you really dive into whatever it is \u2014 whether it\u2019s a film or music or even meeting a person \u2014 you\u2019re forever changed by those first moments. The minute I got to the end of Real Time<\/em>, I started it over, and probably annoyed everyone around me with it for a good few months, because it became something I would listen to every day.<\/p>\n\n\n \t\tRelated Content<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n
\n\tIt certainly made me dive into acoustic music in ways that I never had. I was introduced to things like New Grass Revival, John Cohen and B\u00e9la Fleck, Tony Rice and Skaggs and Rice. I was familiar with Ricky Skaggs from his country stuff, but not necessarily his bluegrass side, that he used to play with Bill Monroe. And then from there, I went into Flatt and Scruggs. The list goes on. You open that can of worms, and all of a sudden you\u2019re listening to Del McCoury and Mac Wiseman, all kinds of stuff. You\u2019re trying to figure out who these guys\u2019 influences are and what created this. The truth is, it\u2019s their influences mixed with their own unique talents and perspectives and experiences. You want to try to understand it more than you do, \u2019cause you feel it so much.<\/p>\n
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\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\tAnd the influences are so broad. When you get to something like track three, \u201cWeary Blues from Waitin\u2019,\u201d a Hank Williams song, it\u2019s these two guys sitting in a room, but playing a very blues version on acoustic instruments. All these things are coming up. But to hear it done in a real kind of . . . naked is not the word, but it\u2019s out there, right in your face, like you\u2019re in the room. I could hear that maybe those influences were some of the same ones I had. I think that drew me to it almost immediately.<\/p>\n
\n\tAt the same time, to my knowledge, I\u2019d never heard of a bouzouki until I heard Tim playing it on this record. I had to figure that out: What instrument is he playing? <\/em>Obviously Tim also has lots of Irish music influences, and when you hear those, you start to dig into fiddle tunes and old-time music, which becomes another rabbit hole of acoustic music separate from bluegrass. All those things are in there. I think Jesse knew that when he handed me this album it was gonna expand my mind in ways that I probably didn\u2019t see.<\/p>\n\n\tThere\u2019s great storytelling in some spots on this record, and there are great solos that I could sing you every note of. I love it as a body of work. Every nuance and breath is important to the love I have for it. It\u2019s an experience to listen to the whole thing. I can only ever think of it as a body of work, because if I ever hear individual songs off it, I immediately want to hear the next song that I know is on the record; it\u2019s a kind of Pavlovian conditioning. The sequencing does that.<\/p>\n\n\n