When I think of Connecticut, the very first thing I think of is country music.
No, that isn’t true. I think about hedge funds and boat shoes.
In getting ready for this interview, I learned that one of the state’s favorite unofficial nicknames is “The Nutmeg State.”
In the late 19th century, “resourceful but disingenuous peddlers” sold wooden nutmegs alongside their other items, turning a decent profit. There is no credible, lasting evidence that these vendors sold wooden nutmegs, according to the Connecticut Historical Society.
“It’s not really clear if anybody did that…or if it originated in the idea that Yankee peddlers were so good at their business that [they] would be able to sell you a wooden nutmeg,” said Natalie Belanger of the Connecticut Historical Society.
However, these less-than-virtuous salespeople and their stories left a long-lasting legacy for merchants from Connecticut.
So, yeah, hedge funds.
This fact made me smile in part because I’m speaking with an anti-establishment type, Joshua Quimby, about the state. The left-leaning Connecticut resident doesn’t do country music the way most might expect, but that doesn’t make it any less country. And that is the point, I think.
Unlike some of his contemporary leftist country music agitators, his musical content isn’t explicitly political, but rather speaks of drug abuse, the working man’s woes and other such traditional sad-sack country music themes. And most of his songs have a sense of fun somewhere in there.
His music is informed by his “personal and emotional experiences rather than being a call-to-action,” he explained. “It's more like my public diary. That said, I utilize my platform in the ways I can to bring awareness and support to the causes I care passionately about, and do so regularly.”
Perhaps a perfect balance is his recent release, “Speeding Tickets, Hot Coffee, Good Donuts, & Dank Weed.” We got a silly-yet-somehow-serious construct with just a bit of yehaw-fuck-the-law mixed in.
There is a Hank Williams vibe to this song, which is fitting, as Quimby released an EP late last year featuring modernized Williams songs. It’s not to be missed.
Grating the Nutmeg
Qumiby’s informal music education came primarily from a passionate guitar teacher and his grandfather. Both pushed him to listen more closely and better understand the underpinnings of a range of influences, from rock, pop, country and beyond. His grandfather pushed the tunes from East Coast folk music hubs like Greenwich Village, Upstate New York, Western Massachusetts and the rural areas of his home state.
“New England as a whole is often overlooked when people mention roots music,” Qumby said. “But there are thriving roots music scenes. It's just less integral to the region's overall cultural identity and ends up existing in fairly niche, passionate communities. In my opinion, there is something pretty neat about that.”
According to Quimby, there are a few small but proud events in his home state. He specifically mentioned the small town of Goshen, which hosts the national Podunk Bluegrass Festival each August, local country singer Nick Bosse’s “Countryfest” in Voluntown and the Amston-based “Back Home Fest,” an event Quimby played a couple of years ago, as examples of these communities’ output.
“Other than that, it's a very everybody-knows-everybody sort of scene, not a whole lot of venues, but places here and there scattered about that keep local live music alive.”
No Cowboy Hats
Another thing that attracts me to Quimby is that he seems to have other passions. The balance makes him seem like a true folk singer — he’s just like other dudes. He smokes weed, pushes the guitar to its limit, savors good donuts and loves his football team.
We’ve both had a lifelong relationship with the New England Patriots. This year, while ending in disappointment, saw a massive rebound in the storied franchise, spearheaded by the young quarterback Drake Maye (and a pretty good defense).
Quimby and his friend Avry Truex penned this banger of a country song about the QB and his epic season.
As his sad-sack music benefits from a bit of joy, this fun song includes a hint of darkness. This entire vibe is great — because country music should be telling stories about the things we care about. It doesn’t have to be just trains, trucks, prisons, mama, or anything else proscribed by gatekeepers.
We can have introspective country musicians and deep folk singers who are passionate about football teams — they don’t all have to call it sportsball.
Now back to the boat shoes. Quimby wears a stoner’s uniform — not a cowboy hat or boot to be seen. And much like his state, if I saw him walking down the street, I wouldn’t think of country music. And I’m sure that’s the point.
The music and culture contain multitudes, and so does Joshua Quimby. He’s selling the real deal country music, seasoned with nutmeg and other herbs.