Strangers in a Strange Land
BB Palmer and the Boys Play Pasaquan
By Frank S. Etheridge IV
The Gospel According to BB Palmer spreads like a shared secret.
Handed to you like a joint passed between buddies, rolled up real nice with the good news, discovering the mystical bent of BB’s genius craftsmanship for sho-nuff country music is a life-changing revelation. Though packing the potential power of an opiate for the masses, a bucket of warm buttery popcorn for the hoi polloi, by virtue of its virtues, BB Palmer’s music arrives via good ol’ fashioned word-of-mouth marketing.
Which explains how BB’s sizzling new album, Alabama Samurai, will have its cover artwork created by the legendary Joshua Marc Levy, who’s applied his art to adorn albums by the likes of AC/DC, the Grateful Dead, and Ozzy Osbourne. Levy was introduced to BB’s Good Word after his post requesting new music was answered by Lee County’s own Rob Tomik, a disciple of BB he calls “a brother.”
It also explains why BB rides high on the mighty wind of Alabama Samurai—a masterful album now four singles deep into the Almighty Algorithm-minded “waterfall” approach to releasing new music today—into middle-of-nowhere Marion County to play the weird wonderland of Pasaquan. An endless well of inspiration to musicians from Tedeschi Trucks Band to Pylon, Pasaquan is the trippy landing pad built to welcome the Pasaquans—superior beings from galaxies far, far away in societies based on telepathic empathy—to their new home in the piney woods of South Georgia. Now under the care of CSU’s Art Department, the seven-acre site is the vision of St. EOM, the mystical, mythic Eddie Owens Martin, acclaimed artist/junkie/fortune teller/prostitute who constructed Pasaquan on inherited family land in the 1970s and ’80s.
“The combination of my music and Pasaquan, that’s mashed potatoes and gravy,” BB Palmer tells The LocaL by phone last month from his native Mobile Bay as he prepared for a sold-out show at legendary Mobile venue Callaghan’s. “We’re going to play the full album, all 14 tracks on Alabama Samurai, from start to finish.”
Working in tandem with photographer/anointed disciple Charley Windham to orchestrate this deliciously outlandish idea, BB Plays Pasaquan assembles like-minded musicians for what promises to be a most-excellent adventure. The ride kicks off at 5:30 with a set from the hypnotic soul and powerful lyricism of Timothy Rose, followed by a set led by highly skilled, soulful groover Noah Herrera with a five-piece band featuring slide-guitar wizard Neal Lucas before the Big To-Do in the full-band swing through the songs on Alabama Samurai.
A music-biz vet now 39 years old, based in the Atlanta area but preparing for a gig with mostly Columbus musicians, BB Palmer says situations such as this require the talents and skills of a good bandleader. “I’m looking to Noah as the band director here,” Palmer explains of the vital role for a tall order from an admittedly tough teacher, “and we’re going to get a six- or seven-piece band so that we have all the sounds to recreate the album as best we can.”
With two brilliant EPs (Lee County’s Finest, Country Krishna Gold) under his belt, in addition to a brilliant bunch of scattershot singles (“Austin, Texas Stripper”), but his band having recently fallen apart, two years ago BB set out to record Alabama Samurai at the superb Green House Atlanta studio run by the renowned husband-and-wife recording team of Rosey and Aaron Hill.
“Rosey and Aaron knocked it out of the park,” he says of the finished product. “They plugged in all their great session players, incredible musicians they’ve been working with for decades.”
Asked about a particular slice of sonic bliss in the melodies on “Blue Moon,” a country crooner ideal for BB’s troubadour talents, the tune takes off into the stratosphere thanks to fiddles, a melodica, and the mad-genius soaring solo that seems at home on “Black Hole Sun” when Johnny Daly’s soaring pedal steel is played through a whirling Leslie amp known for its organic sounds.
Just don’t call it cosmic country.
“Naw fuck that,” BB says of the label he calls “played out.”
“I don’t let any genre of any sound drive the bus. What drives the bus is the soul, you know? The songs drive the bus.”
“The energy there is off the charts,” is how Noah Herrera describes Pasaquan. “Playing up on that sandpit stage, looking out over the land, I am so excited for this one.”
Speaking on the Loft’s balcony overlooking Broadway during a Sweet South Wednesday night, Noah had just finished leaving the stage in a blanket of smoldering ash from a 12-minute exploratory cover of the Allman Brothers’ classic “Whipping Post.” A smiley savant, the 22-year-old explains the ABB inspiration comes naturally given his Macon-area roots (Warner Robins; he came to Columbus to study at CSU’s Schwob School), having displayed killer instincts for making magic on stage on guitar, organ, and with vocal scats in fine vintage jazz fashion.
“I’m inspired by Oteil Burbridge [ABB, Dead & Co.] and [OG jazz/soul maestro] George Benson,” he says. Serving as BB Plays Pasaquan bandleader by taking Dropbox files from BB Palmer with the music to prepare the Columbus musicians for two August rehearsals in the Loft Studios with BB in town. Noah’s quintet will also feature percussionist Martel Hughes and bassist Gary Gordon. His set will feature his originals, plus Neal Lucas’ originals mixed in with some covers, he explains: “It’ll be some freeform, some slightly planned, some well-planned. You can be chaotic, but it’s better when you have a roadmap.”
“It’s not about certain songs,” Herrera waxes wise in musical philosophy far beyond his years. “Music is all about how everything feels.”
Timothy Rose is all about the feels, too.
Also clocking in at age 22, the tenderhearted singer-songwriter possesses a brilliant, emotive lyricism and glues his words to gentle acoustic Martin guitars. Fair to say the Smiths Station native lives a bit down the street, musically, from the blues-based roots of Noah, Neal, and BB, but is proud to say he’s on the bill due to his connection to event promoter/photographer Charley Windham, who was first introduced to Rose’s music two years ago in the nurturing soil of No Shame at the Springer Opera House.
“Charley made me feel good about what I was doing with my music,” he says during a recent phone call. “I’m approaching the Pasaquan show like an all-star game, picking out songs that stand out, as it’s an opportunity to play for new people.”
Noting his Christian faith is still an important part of his life, Rose grew up singing in the children’s choir at church. He confesses to being a moody teenager obsessed with heartbreak pop ballads when he began writing lyrics in 10th grade, putting his words to Adele beats on YouTube.
Rose is at work self-producing his second EP, Preacher Boy, a follow-up to his first album, American Folk Hero, which dropped in February. Rose writes and plays everything on his songs. “‘Preacher Boy’ is about religion and faith, but it’s also about not being taken seriously because of my age,” says Rose.
“The best way for me to get a response from my songs is to be as transparent as possible, even if it’s candid to the point of uncomfortable,” he explains. “I write songs that show people what headspace I was in when I wrote it. And, for myself, I write songs to narrate my habits so that I can get a grasp on them.”
While BB Palmer understands that the complexity of his music, both lyrically and in terms of arrangement, has kept his blissful blessing from the masses thus far in a career in the treacherous music biz that’s as wild and free as he.
Still …
“I’d sell out for a hit record and some money,” he half-jokes. “Everybody wants a hit record. Why would you do it otherwise? Shoot, I want everybody and their mama to listen to my music.”
While Alabama Samurai summoned the holy spirit of the Wu-Tang Clan and the hip-hop legends’ incisive, chop-they-heads-off lyrics, BB Palmer fell in love before he cut the 10 tracks in Montgomery for a one-album deal with Alabama Sound Company, a grassroots operation with a stellar roster of diamonds in the rough led by Brett Robinson, who BB labels “a visionary.”
Slated for a late 2026 release, his latest batch of songs “are more subtle, with a more sophisticated sound, a softer touch—all love songs because I fell deeply in love,” he explains. But his ASC album will have one song burning with his old fire, however, in the radical revolutionary “White Moses.”
“I write wherever the songwriting leads me, you know, whether it’s love or whether it’s fuck you,” BB explains. “And everything in between. The full spectrum.”
Genius songcraft is subjective to the point of infinite open-ended interpretation. Thank Jah. You learn this when you ask if the Alabama Samurai single “Maggie” is also a love song but then learn, “On the surface it may seem to be about love, but it’s about being disconnected from the younger generation.”
“Ultimately, it’s not really anything to do with what I’ve written about it—it’s what the listener makes it,” BB explains. “Songs have thousands of meanings, depending on who’s listening, and that’s one of the great things about songs.”
BB Plays Pasaquan
Featuring BB Palmer, Noah Herrera, Neal Lucas, Timothy Rose & More
Saturday, August 29
Arts & Makers: 3:30 p.m.
Music: 5:30 p.m.–whenever
~ 235 Eddie Owens Martin Road
Buena Vista, Georgia
Tickets: GetLocalTix.com