Rhiannon Giddens isn’t here for the small talk. Her latest record, They're Calling Me Home, recorded with Francesco Turrisi, isn’t just another collection of old-time folk songs—it’s a meditation on death, longing, and the cyclical nature of human history. “I don't know if anybody will want it, or if the label will be interested,” she admits. “But let’s just go make something.”
The album, created during the strange limbo of pandemic lockdowns, pulls heavily from traditional songs like I Shall Not Be Moved and Waterbound. Death isn’t just a theme—it’s practically the lead singer. “A lot of those old folk songs, they don’t end well,” she laughs. “They might start with love, but they end in death.” But this isn’t some morbid fascination. For Giddens, it’s about connection—to the past, to ancestors, to those who’ve endured before. “We tend to forget how privileged we are. Our ancestors dealt with death constantly.”
Her original song Avalon taps into that same energy, a place where one finds salvation and rebirth. “It’s not heaven, it’s more like… a place where we’re ourselves again,” she explains. “None of this is permanent.” The record also reflects on the idea of home—something that’s taken on new meaning for the American-born, Ireland-based musician. “Home is not a simple notion at all,” she says. “I’ve had to make a home here, while missing my old one. And usually, my home was the road.”
That search for connection extends into the album’s instrumentation as well. Giddens and Turrisi, an Italian musician, blend their influences seamlessly, even pulling in Zimbabwean artist Niwel Tsumbu for additional texture. “We’re all in Ireland, but we all miss our homes,” she says. “That tension, that push and pull of where you come from versus where you are—that’s what makes the music.” It’s an approach that echoes throughout Giddens’ career, from her work tracing the overlooked Black roots of folk and country to her collaborations with Our Native Daughters, a supergroup that reclaims the history of Black women in roots music.
With every project, Giddens has aimed to unearth the hidden narratives within music history—whether that’s the influence of African instruments in Appalachian music or the migration of melodies across continents. “Anything that complicates the narrative—bullseye,” she grins. “I don’t watch Netflix. This is what I think about 24/7.”
Between a long-delayed opera premiere and the possibility of another Our Native Daughters album (“The spirit is willing, it’s just the schedules…”), there’s plenty ahead. But for now, Giddens remains focused on what’s right in front of her—an album born out of isolation that, paradoxically, brings people together. “We have everything we need to figure this out,” she says. “We just don’t always let it happen.”
Watch the interview above and then check out the videos below.
