Born in Jonesboro GA to a family of 9 children that had little exposure to music apart from a church hymnal, Molly Parden’s career in music is something of a mystery—something that happened to her more than it was ever anything she set out for. When none of her siblings took a particular interest in music at a young age, Molly inherited a violin built by her great uncle when she was 8 years old— discovering her lifelong love for music through the haunting simplicity of melodies long before she ever heard pop music, picked up a guitar, or started singing songs of her own.
Molly moved to Nashville in the spring of 2013 and soon discovered she could pay her bills as a singer, providing her memorable and uniquely captivating harmony vocals on over 50 records in just a few years. Though she rarely performed her own songs live, her increasing number of fans and champions—everyone from her mom to Ryan Adams to her fellow songwriters in Nashville’s vibrant underground— encouraged her to finally make a record of her own.
What resulted is a voice that is as haunting as it is comforting, beautifully raw and yet effortlessly just out of reach— a disarming union of aloofness and intimacy that runs throughout her songs, lulling the listener with its cadence of melancholic melodies and searching phrases that whirr in your head long after her songs have gone silent.
But for all its unapproachable beauty, the heart of Molly’s music is humble and profoundly human. They are songs that remind us that heartbreak isn’t simply another marketable human emotion, but is more like a familiar place—a sacred space within all of us. We are all born with a deep sense of loss, and great art has a way of articulating the personal tragedy we’re all born to. It makes listening to Molly’s songs feel like falling into a dream or a distant memory— a beautiful reminder of something we’ve known all along.
-James McFetridge Wilson
With a closet full of boots, a heart full of wander and a soul full of songs, the charming and multi-talented Kentucky “Wonky Tonk” woman releases her debut album Stuff We Leave Behind in hopes of continuing her Wonky ways with a lighter heart in lieu of finding the Neverland in all of
Jasmine Lorraine “Wonky Tonk” Poole grew up in the hard scrabble portion of the American heartland. Kentucky, to be precise. Her world of loss and longing is familiar terrain for lovers of country, bluegrass and folk music but, just as Kentucky can be viewed as a bridge between north and south, Wonk’s music blends elements of Indie/Alternative rock with old school country. It’s hard to separate the wonk from the tonk. Nor should you try.
Wonk’s influences, John Prine, Guy Clark, Modest Mouse and Loretta Lynn among them (especially Loretta), are apparent but her music is not derivative. Loretta, Skeeter Davis, Iris Dement and Jenny Lewis come to mind but none of her comparables quite pin her down. Wonk is her own cowgirl. “Cowgirls get up in the morning, decide what to do and do it”, she was told as a child. Fiercely independent but naturally shy Jasmine uses her alter ego and blue cowgirl boots to deal with the notion of impossibly cruel but equally exhilarating existence.
One byproduct of youthful innocence is a constant disappointing, bewildering surprise:
You used to call me baby
You used to call me darlin’
Now you don’t call me at all
Another is vulnerability and manipulability:
In the greasy ballroom
You whispered in my ear
Darlin’ life is a gamble, romance a drug
The whole world is dancin'
Won’t you give in and love
Her eleven song debut release Stuff We Leave Behind deals with the necessity of moving on at critical points in your life. Stuff that once seemed important must be cast aside, ex-lovers relegated to the shadows. “Heartbreak makes the jukebox play”, she was once told. Her song titles reflect her wandering spirit and a fascination with time and place. “Cleveland." “Denmark." “Tennessee." “Montague Road." A veteran troubadour at such a tender age, Wonk has toured Europe with the same restless drive as her native Northern Kentucky.
Tom Robbins told us that even Cowgirls Get the Blues but all is not remorse and regret. Jangly sunshine pops through the clouds unexpectedly, such as in “Parkland Avenue” (arguably the best track). Though softly. Without the glare.
Wonk’s lyrics are worth a read even without the music. The album tracks her evolution as an artist and a person. The gravel, rutted road to an emerging wisdom.
Tennessee didn’t you hear
Money’s not real and neither is fear
Pay attention to Wonk. Not just because she is talented and beautiful. Pay attention because she has an important purpose. To help you remember. To help you forget. Or to help you remember why you chose to forget.
With love from Kentucky,
Wonky Tonk