Entangled Empathy with The Honey Dewdrops

At the end of January 2020, winter hasn’t exactly been winter, but the cold still bites, night still settles early. In the wake of the day’s historic events, a different kind of bite settles into the soul.  

So it was that I found myself seeking community at The Creative Alliance along the edges of Patterson Park, slipping into the museum to await Baltimore’s own (adopted) The Honey Dewdrops – Laura Wortman and Kagey Parrish – stalwarts of the folk and old-time music scenes, lending their own voices and instruments to nearly-countless moments across the last decade. 

Laura and Kagey moved to Baltimore at the beginning of the decade and settled into the community quickly – “It felt like home before it was home”, Kagey told the audience later in the night – calling Hampden home and writing songs inspired by the city (including a favorite instrumental of mine in “Remington”). 

They’ve released five records – all independent – since 2010, their voices and instruments tangling together throughout like the roots of redwoods, always communicating quietly and in ways we can never quite understand. Their most recent record – Anyone Can See – emphasizes the intimacy of their music, the interconnected nature of being alive.  They encourage empathy and then onstage, they share it.  

At the Creative Alliance, Laura and Kagey treated the audience to a special double-set, their mics angled so they could stand side-by-side, close together, modeling what it means to share in a feeling with someone else.  Having forgotten their setlist backstage, they went by memory and opened the night with “Same Old”, a traveling song about looking for something new.  Fittingly, a new song – tentatively titled “Baby, Don’t You Weep” – came later with an appeal not to worry too much.  As mentioned earlier, they played the wryly humorous “Welcome to the Club”, a song inviting listeners to meet the world – or at least Baltimore – with open arms and a laughing smile.  

That empathy pervades Laura and Kagey’s songs, the constant call to listen closely, to feel deeply, to connect.  This acceptance and love defined “Rainy Windows”, which came next, its exhortations a reminder to their listener that someone cares enough to worry.  

Between songs and as they tuned, they bantered with each other and the audience, wide and small smiles alighting their faces.  Kagey joked about how it’s no longer okay to joke about banjos, sharing a stony-faced quote by John Hartford: “A banjo will get you through times of no money, but money won’t get you through times of no banjo,” as well as playing a perfect cover of Hartford’s (and Glen Campbell’s) song “Gentle On My Mind.”  Laura came back to it later, laughingly blaming a moment of silence on how Kagey isn’t allowed to make fun of banjos any longer.  They talked often and laughed often, and the rest of us smiled and laughed along, soaking in the music. 

We learned more about some of the songs.  Kagey told us he loved the title “Half-Broke Horse” (a novel written by Jeanette Winterson), and while he never read the book (he laughingly told the audience not to do that), the phrase burrowed into his mind and he penned “Horses” from Tangled Country as a result.  

At another point, Laura shared that the instrumental “Catawba” has its influences from the sprawling and sloping landscapes of Virginia – their home state – and the way it makes them feel more at ease and contented. A keen reminder that, while cities can bring us together, the stars and scenery center our souls.  

After an intermission, the second set featured a pair of new songs (“Tuning To” and “Wildwood”), as well as a run of songs from Anyone Can See, including personal favorites “For One More” and the civil but direct “Going Rate”.  The set also featured their rendition of Hank’s “Ramblin’ Man” and the candidly honest love song, “Silver Lining”.  

After the show, Laura and Kagey met the audience, waiting for them in the galleries to say their “Hellos” and “Thank Yous”, to share that connection even more directly.  It’s the kind of thing that has come to define their music, and maybe even the Baltimore arts scene as a whole.