Blount County Live

Lee and Scott sit down with Dino, aka Milk Man, and if you're wondering how a 24-year-old who's never taken a music lesson ends up leading an 18-20 piece big band, well, it all started with a gallon of Weigel's milk in a cup holder and a dream to crash open mic nights. This coding student turned music obsessive discovered Paul McCartney at 17, skipped the ACT to see Eric Clapton, and decided cyber security wasn't for him. Instead, he taught himself songwriting during the pandemic and formed what might be the most ambitious musical project in East Tennessee. We're talking strings, horns, backup singers called the Dairy Queens, and a Hammond organ that requires its own convoy of cars. Dino performs two songs solo with just harmonium – "Tired" and "All for You" from their first album "Let Me Tell You" – giving us a rare glimpse of how these big production numbers start before they become full orchestral arrangements. It's like hearing the Beatles in their bedroom before they hit Abbey Road. From the nearly-impromptu open mic that started it all to selling out the Bijou Theatre and getting their own PBS documentary, Milk Man and the Big Band proves that sometimes the best way to learn music is to jump in with both feet and 18 of your closest friends. They transcribe note-for-note Beatles arrangements, hire classical musicians who turn their noses up at rock and rollers, and somehow make it all work. Plus, we finally get the answer to why he's called Milk Man, and no, it's not what you think. The man just really loves his calcium. If you've ever wondered what happens when Phil Spector's Wall of Sound meets East Tennessee ambition, this is your episode.

Lee and Scott sit down with Mic Harrison and Kevin Abernathy from Mic Harrison and the High Score, and if you've been sleeping on East Tennessee's best rock band, wake up. These guys just dropped "Peach Blossom Youth" – produced by Eric "Bottle Rockets" Ambel – and it's the kind of polished Southern rock that makes you want to drive fast with the windows down.Mic's been fronting this outfit since the early 2000s (the "High Score" comes from original guitarist Robbie Trosper's video game obsession), and Kevin joined the party eight years ago. Together they've created what Mic calls "Arena-Cana" – shooting for the balconies with hooks that grab you and don't let go.We get three live performances: "Lose You Over This" (about a family member's suicide attempt), "Dallas Sutton" (a Civil War-era tale of desertion), and "Old Man" (Mic's tribute to his father who died from Alzheimer's). These aren't your typical feel-good ditties – they're real stories wrapped in killer guitar work and harmonies that hit like the Stones in their prime.From pumping gas in West Tennessee to headlining the Shed, from opening for Cracker to creating backstories that keep you guessing, Mic and Kevin prove that East Tennessee rock doesn't need Nashville's approval. They're doing it old school – hiring producers, PR folks, and radio people because sometimes you gotta spend money to make money.Plus, Lee admits Mic Harrison is a major reason he moved to Blount County. High praise from a guy who's seen it all and chose these mountains anyway.Arena-Cana: it's a thing now, and these guys invented it.

Lee and Scott sit down with Jay Clark, and if you're wondering how someone goes from chasing bears in Oklahoma to hosting the best listening room show in Blount County, well, buckle up. This man's got more stories than a Sunday sermon and twice the heart.Jay's the guy who teaches at Maryville College (yeah, he's got a PhD but insists students call him by his first name), runs an $82.5 million science center project, and somehow finds time to curate the second Tuesday Shindig at TriHop. He's the one telling rowdy crowds to shut up so you can actually hear the music – and somehow everyone loves him for it.We're talking about growing up in western Kentucky coal country, learning guitar from newspaper clippings, and why the mountains create the culture that makes East Tennessee so special. Jay performs "Seeds of Love" (a tribute to his grandmother Bertie) and "Sunday Afternoon" – the song that made Lee cry the first time he heard it. Fair warning: these aren't your typical feel-good ditties.Jay's also navigating a divorce after 25 years of marriage, working on new material that's "pretty tough," and planning a gospel album with an A-side for himself and a B-side for his mama. Plus, he drops some serious knowledge about bear behavior, biodiversity, and why the Little River might be one of the most incredible places on the planet.From house concerts to listening rooms, from coal fields to conservation, Jay Clark represents everything that makes Blount County's music scene authentic. And if you've never been to a TriHop Shindig, this episode will convince you to mark your calendar.Real stories, real music, real Appalachian heart.

Lee and Scott sit down with Cruz Contreras, and if you've been following East Tennessee music for the past couple decades, you know this man's resume. From studying jazz piano at UT to fronting the Black Lilies, to his trippy solo album "Cosmico" (seriously, check that one out), Cruz has been all over the musical map. But guess what? He's back in Blount County to stay.We're talking about life between Butterfly Gap and Montvale, where there's no cell service but there is internet (priorities, people). Cruz breaks down why he went solo, how he recorded "Cosmico" on a houseboat in Idaho with beat machines and iPhones, and why the Black Lilies are back as "Cruz Contreras and the Black Lilies."He's got shows coming up at the Shed in Maryville (February 28th) and New Year's Eve at the Down Home in Johnson City. Plus, he debuts two brand-new songs live in the studio – including one his wife asked him to write that's definitely not as dirty as advertised. Don't worry, it's still PG for our virgin-eared hosts.Cruz talks about growing up in a musical family (his brother Billy Contreras is a fiddle legend), remembering when gas was $1.13 and 411 was two lanes, and why East Tennessee keeps calling musicians back home. Even when you're touring 200 shows a year, sometimes you just need to find your way back to the hay barn with your guitar.Real talk from a real musician who's been there, done that, and decided home is where the heart is – even if the cell service sucks.

Lee and Scott sit down with Doug Harris, and if you're trying to figure out which Doug Harris band you saw last weekend, join the club. This man's got more musical projects than Blount County has dive bars – the Dirty Dougs, Doug Harris Band, Dirty Doug and Johnny, and a few others we probably forgot to mention. But here's the deal: every single one of them is worth catching.Doug's heading to Memphis for the International Blues Challenge representing the Smoky Mountain Blues Society, and if you know anything about Beale Street in January, you know it's gonna be cold as hell and hot as fire musically. We're talking the largest blues festival in the world, folks. But Doug's not just about the stage – he's out here teaching seniors to play harmonica at Blount Memorial through the "Rare Air" program (yeah, that's air with an E for attitude). Turns out blowing into a harmonica might help with COPD, or maybe it's just the laughing and singing. Either way, it works. We get a full-on harmonica lesson (complete with World War I history and why we lost all the good blues fiddle players), plus Doug performs his original song "Catharsis" – which he swears he wrote to keep from killing somebody. Don't worry, he's feeling much better now.From teaching Lee harmonica to living across the street from Brackins (dangerous move), Doug's been holding down the East Tennessee music scene since 2001. And with an album dropping in 2026, this blues historian/musician/community treasure ain't slowing down anytime soon. Fair warning: He's got at least 14 harmonicas on him at all times, and he knows how to use 'em.

Hold up. Did we just say sixteen? Yeah, you read that right. Wyatt Ellis might not be old enough to vote, but this Townsend native's already played the Grand Ole Opry multiple times, won an IBMA award, and has his own exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame. No big deal. Lee and Scott sit down with the mandolin wizard whose theme song "Maryville" literally opens and closes our podcast (you're welcome). Wyatt breaks down how he went from a 10-year-old kid who heard Rocky Top once to performing with Randy Travis's band and recording in creeks with microphones. Yeah, he actually waded into Abrams Creek to get authentic river sounds for his album "Happy Valley." That's commitment, folks. We're talking Ireland tours, Ernest Tubbs Midnight Jamboree comebacks, and how this kid manages to make grown musicians look like amateurs while still being the most humble person in any room. Plus, he rips through "Orange Blossom Special" right here in the studio, and trust us, you're gonna want to hear this. Oh, and he's also the official Peaceful Side Ambassador for Blount County. So basically, if you get pulled over in Townsend, just tell 'em you know Wyatt. (Don't actually do that.) From Rocky Branch jams to international stages, this is what happens when raw talent meets East Tennessee roots. And at 16, he's just getting started.

Lee and Scott catch up with Lane Shuler, Townsend native turned Maryville resident who's been crafting his own brand of alternative hip-hop right here in Blount County. Lane breaks down how he went from a kid in Townsend with no music shops or guitar teachers to creating what he calls "liquid running through a dark alleyway" – and honestly, once you hear it, that description makes perfect sense. We dive into the making of his upcoming album "Candlelight Vigilante" (dropping Q1), which features some mind-blowing production with up to 75 tracks on certain songs. Lane's working with Will Johnson, whose dad did sound for Whitney Houston and Aerosmith, and they're recording in studios from Knoxville to Rockford to Minneapolis. Lane performs a couple tracks live with just piano – including a tribute to Alonzo Rogers, a Good Guy Collective member lost to violence in Knoxville. The acoustic versions hit different, and watching him rap at lightning speed while playing keys? That's something you don't see every day. We also talk about the Townsend Hot Air Balloon Festival, upcoming shows, and how Lane's building a whole circular economy with local artists and producers. Plus, stick around for the rapid-fire lyrics that had Lee trying to talk his way out of a speeding ticket. Real music, real stories, real Blount County.

Y'all better buckle up for this one. We sat down with East Tennessee's own EmiSunshine – yeah, that 20-year-old powerhouse who's been making grown folks cry with her voice since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. While Nashville's churning out cookie-cutter country, this Madisonville native's out here singing about real stuff: mountain folks losing their land, families getting torn apart by pills, and why your mama's homemade biscuits matter more than any record deal.She'll tell you straight up why she turned down that reality TV nonsense, how she's building her own dang studio (because waiting on Nashville is for suckers), and why singing at the Opry is nice and all, but performing for the home folks hits different. Plus, we get into the nitty-gritty about her new album that's got everyone from NPR to your meemaw talking.Fair warning: This ain't your polished Music Row interview. It's real talk from a young woman who'd rather stay true to these mountains than sell her soul for a number one hit. And if that ruffles some rhinestone-covered feathers? Well, bless their hearts.