Wild Card with Rachel Martin - Brittany Howard

Episode Date: August 27, 2026

“We’re all gentler and we’re more sensitive,” Brittany Howard tells Rachel about reuniting with her band, Alabama Shakes. The band is back with their first studio album in over a decade, “I Must Be Dreaming.” Brittany talks with Rachel about why now was the right time to reunite, and how growing up poor influences her music to this day. She also talks about finding peace in hard work and why she loves the sound of a box fan. Support public media with NPR+ and enjoy perks for over 25 podcasts like this one. This show’s perks include sponsor-free listening. Learn more at plus.npr.org.See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

When do you feel most at peace? When I've been working outside all day and I'm physically tired and the sun's starting to go down. It's about to be a beautiful sunset. And I'm taking those glugs of cold water and I'm wiping my brow off. And I'm just like, I put everything into this day. And in those moments, I'm so tired. I can't overthink. I can't be neurotic.

I just am. Yeah. And that's where my piece is. I'm Rachel Martin, and this is Wildcard, the show where cards control the conversation. Listening to Brittany Howard's sing is in itself a transcendent experience. But watching her sing is next level. It's the way she inhabits the stage and moves her body, projects her voice not just to articulate words,

but to convey everything from pain and longing to freedom and joy. After nearly a decade, Brittany Howard, is back with her band Alabama Shakes and a new album called I Must Be Dreaming. Brittany Howard, I'm so happy to welcome you to Wildcard. Thank you. It's so good to be here. So first round is memories. These are the first three cards. One, two, or three.

Let's go two. Okay. Yes. Okay. Where would you go when you wanted to feel safe as a kid? When I wanted to feel safe as a kid, I would go in the woods. play with my animals, play in the creek. You live close to woods?

Yeah, I grew up in the woods. Yeah, grew up in the woods. My dad had a junkyard as well. So it was like the junkyard, and then on top of the hill was like some nice green grass, and we had a lot of animals, and then the rest was the woods. So that was my safe place. And so there was the junkyard, but then there were the woods. And did you go in there like a lot?

Did you go with friends? My closest neighbor friends was just a little boy named Taterhead. Well, we called him Taterhead. I assume that was his God-given name. He would drive up to our house on the lawnmower because it's a long road. And he'd be like, hey, Brittany won't play? And I'd be like, sure. you know, sure, tighterhead.

And then we go out in the woods. And, you know, we'd just, like, use our imaginations. Or, you know, one time I would, like, you know, when you have junk cars and you take them to, like, a place to be crushed, you take the gas tanks off. So there's, like, this big pile of empty gas tanks. And so I would, like, get one and then float down the creek on it because they float. Yeah. So instead of a raft gas tank. It was a lot of fun.

That sounds really fun. It sounds very fun. It also sounds like the opposite of so many kids' childhoods now that are... I wish more kids were floating down rivers on empty gas tanks, frankly. Yeah. We need more junkyard kids. Yeah. Yeah.

Okay. Let's keep going. Next three. One, two, or three. Let's do one. Mm-hmm. Well, there's another place question. What's a place that shaped you just as much as any person did?

A place to shape me. I mean, it's hard because it's the same thing. It's my home. It's the junkyard. It's, you know, if I had to answer that one, it would be like, that was a land of creativity. You know, you could open your door and look out and say, like, wow, a bunch of junk cars. Or you could say, like, that is my kingdom for the day. I'm going out there and I'm going to see what I can see.

And some days there were like a castle. Some days they were like a lost cove. Like if you're a pirate. Like so many scenarios could be made up out there and those junk cars in the woods. And I feel like that's where I really learned that with imagination, like, you know, anything's possible. When you first started out writing music,

can you draw a line from what you were writing in those early songs? to the junkyard or images that came to you as a result of that place, stories that percolated because of that place? Well, I'm sure, like, subconsciously, everything's connected to the junkyard. There's something about being, like, one of the poor kids, but you're not really poor. You have family, and we always had, like, food on the table. Maybe we didn't get all the nicest things.

newest clothes or whatever. But we always had a lot of fun. There's a certain type of fun you can have that is free. And I learned that very early on. And I feel like when I think of myself, and of course then the music that comes out of me, it's always like from this place of resourcefulness. And it goes all the way back to there where it's like the most fun I ever had costs zero dollars. And that's never left me.

Like, that is my home, and those are my people. And the idea of resourcefulness being a fount of creativity is really interesting because it means being resourceful implies that the resources are scarce. There's a scarcity and that it almost, it requires you to be creative. I think it requires you to be creative and it also requires you to change your perspective to reframe everything around you. Like, I didn't know I was poor until the other kids said something to me. You know what I mean? Because I was wearing, like, you know, I go to the flea market and get the off-market Jordans and the off-market Calvin Klein. You know, it might be Calvin Clinton.

I was wearing that, you know. Missing a ball or something. I didn't know there's anything wrong with that until I found out. But I didn't really feel bad about myself because I had this. I had this whole entire world inside that was just abundant and flourishing. And I thought maybe those kids just don't have that or something. Were your parents good about helping buoy you so you knew how to manage kids who were going to call out the misspelling of Calvin Klein in your pants or whatever? Yeah.

I'd say my dad was pretty good at that. You know, like, there was some older boys that were, like, in middle school, and, like, I was in elementary school, and they would pick on me, and I would come home, and I would tell my dad, because I'd be crying. And I'd be like, Dad, so-and-so picked on me, he said this about me, and my dad would tell me the craziest thing. He'd be like, I'm going to hire someone to break their legs. And I was like, oh. And then I felt better. There's like, you're like, that is exactly what I needed to hear. That's exactly what an eight-year-old girl needed, I guess.

He never did. I was going to say, presumably, he didn't follow through. But there was power in the promise. I was like, wow, he really cares about me. My dad really loves me. He's going to go get that guy's butt. Such a sweet guy. So it sounds like there was a lot of joy in your house, which is a lovely thing.

Was there a lot of music? Yeah, music everywhere in my house. So I come from a mixed background. My mom is white, my dad's black, and there was lots of different types of music. There was like Elvis and Patsy Klein and like the Everly Brothers and Dion and like the monkeys, the Partridge family, had all that. And at the same time, I had Luther, I had Prince, had the Marvellettes, I had the Crystles, the Ronnettes. you know, obviously Michael Jackson and that kind of thing going on,

Teddy Pendergrass. And then in my house, everybody just played everything. And my dad was always open-minded with music so he could listen to whatever. My mom was the same way. And in our household, like, it was just musical because music was like, you know, free.

You listen to the radio or sing songs to each other. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Let's go in the last one in this round. One, two, or three. Three. What was your most intimidating move? I got to say the most intimidating move was the move I just made from Nashville to a little farm south of town. I didn't know I had so much stuff.

I hired two moving trucks. I need like four. And it was intimidating? Yeah, I just didn't know I had that much stuff. Like, where was all that stuff? So it was just the stuff. Was there anything psychologically or emotionally difficult about that move? Or was it all easy on that? It was emotionally difficult moving.

I didn't find this out until later because I loved my home in Nashville. I think I wanted a little bit more peace and a little slower of a pace because Nashville has been rapidly changing to grow into a bigger city. And I was like, well, I'm kind of a country girl. and I don't feel very country girl here. Yeah. So I was going back to the country and to be closer to my family. And all my friends are in Nashville.

My whole life was in Nashville. And it felt I felt like I had a little grief moving. Couldn't believe I was going to move again. But, you know, I'm an adult. And at the end of the day, it was definitely for the best. Yeah. How long have you been in the new place? Eight months.

Yeah? Feels like home yet? Yeah, definitely. Yeah. Yeah. It's nice to hear birds instead of traffic. So we're going to pull back from the game. I want to talk about your new collaboration with two old collaborators, two musicians who make up Alabama shakes with you, Zach Cockrell and Heath Fogg.

This is your first album with them in 10 years, which is a minute or two. So why? Why now? Why was it the right time? Yeah, this is true. I think the timing of it was divine. I had a buddy who owns a brewery in Tuscaloosa. And back in the day, when the band first started before we got a record deal, anything like that, we would go down to Tuscaloosa and they were always welcoming of us. and this buddy, called Bo, opened up his home to us, took us in, made sure we were fed, made sure we had a place to sleep, and then we'll send us off again.

Playing Tuscaloosa is what really solidified us as a group. And he called me, you know, and he was like, you know, I have this brewery. COVID was really, really hard for us. I want to do this fundraiser. Would you play it? And I was like, of course I'll play it. And then I thought back, and I was like, Like the fellas would want to do this too because they care about him just as much as I do.

I called the fellas, hey, do y'all want to get together and surprise Bo and Tuscaloosa by getting back together as a shakes? And they're like, cool. Okay, let's do it. So to get together, we had to get together and rehearse the songs again. It's been a long time. We had to figure out how to play him. So we're like knocking a rust off these songs and trying to get them back together. And we're having a lot of fun.

And we go and do the gig and it was a great surprise. And we raised a lot of money and set him up. And then after that, we were just like, man, we should just, maybe we should just keep playing and maybe we should do some shows again. That would be super fun. And then everything kind of snowballed until like, wow, we have written all this new material. We should make an album. So I feel like everything happened really naturally. So do you just pick up where you left off? Like, you know, you've been out doing your own thing and making music on your own terms and. performing, and it's a different game altogether to come back and be in musical community with other people and write together. Yeah, that's true. Was it easy?

It was new. It was surprising. I think the whole thing was surprising. How come? What surprised you? Well, what surprised me is we're all older now, you know, just a little bit. And we're all gentler and we're more sensitive. And where we are now is not necessarily where we were then.

And we weren't trying to recreate then. We were trying to get together and figure out what version of ourself is driving now, so to speak. And how do we meet all of those people together and agree on music? how are you feeling? What are you listening to? I'm listening to this. This is how I feel lately. Have you seen the world around us lately? How do you feel about that? And it's kind of like getting in there and creating something from that. You know, just like we used to. How do we get along in this musical conversation? And so we started there again. And it did feel like starting again. I don't think it felt like picking up where we left off. But it was just like, hi, good to see you. Yeah. Okay. So on the new album, you can definitely hear, like the foundation of Alabama Shakespeare's music, right? Roots and soul. But it's going in all kinds of interesting directions now. How'd that happen?

Yeah, I mean, well, I guess my greatest teacher when it came to music was music itself. I never went and had any formal education with music. I would just listen to it and listened to all kinds of it. And there's still so much missing from the album and Shakes conversation as far as what we're about what we like, what we like to express. And some of it was sludgier. And some of it kind of harkens back to the Partridge family. You know, the stuff those musicians were doing in the studio for that Partridge family album. That was funky.

It's cool. Yeah. And it was done with a harpsichord. Just things and feelings and estableness. that I want to collect and express myself with, especially when it comes to like American Dream that has like a very heavy sludginess to it. And that kind of reminded me a little bit of Black Sabbath. And I wanted to talk about our society and what it feels like living in that society today. I'm latched onto your description as the music being sludgy.

That's a really evocative, interesting way to describe it. But it doesn't feel great that word. It feels heavy. And I don't know. What does it mean to you for music to be sludgy? I wouldn't say all this songs feel sludgy. I guess I'm just speaking about a few. Yeah.

Because I feel like sometimes there's no words to describe a feeling. Often. Often. I think music helps with that. I think if someone were saying, say, I feel like this today. And they put on a song like American Dream. I feel like I would understand.

I feel like I could go into that a great deal. But what I'll say is the sludginess reminds me of getting your legs stuck. And all you want to do is progress forward and you want to see the scenery change. But you can't. And you're like, what is this force holding me back and how do I work my way out of it? That's the question today. And so I guess that's what I mean by sludgy. especially in reference to American Dream.

Yeah. This is the next round. Brittany. Okay. Insights. Three new cards. One, two, or three. What are you feeling?

Three. Three. What's a sound that instantly puts you at ease? Oh, that's a good question. That's a good question. You can sit with it for a minute. Because there's so many sounds that put me in ease. I think I really love.

like the sound of a box fan. Yeah. More. A particular box fan? Any box fan? Well, I don't know the name of it, but I remember it from the 90s. It was made out of like metal, maybe aluminum, and it was baby blue right here. And then the top and the blade and this side were plastic.

And I remember I would put my face up to the fan and just go like, ugh. And then we go, do-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d. And I mean, just bliss. Really? Yeah. I want to say, like, the fan is like Elko or Delco or something like that. And when I was sick, my mom would lay out like this baby blue blanket, and then she would put the fan in front of me, and I would just be like, oh, yeah.

Takes me right back. That is, it's before we had sound machines. That was the original sound machine. right? The OG sound machine. Okay. Next three. One, two, or three?

One. One. How much do you rely on the validation of others? Hmm. I feel like this whole time in Alabama shakes, I've really just been trying to, like, make music that Zach and Heath will like. If they like it, you know, it's probably a good sign. I usually start there.

I mean, I can like something, but somebody else can hear it and be kind of like, wow, that's kind of chaotic. But I hear music in it, you know. But I think when I bring something to the table and I see Zach and Heath light up, I feel like I really feel validated. Like, we should pursue this song. And what about other people? Like critics, especially when you were early in your career. career, it's such a vulnerable place to be. I mean, being a musician in general, being any kind of artist, but also being a singer, I feel like it's even more vulnerable because your instrument is you, you know what I mean? And in those early years where you did the opinions of the industry or other peers, did those weigh heavier than they do now? maybe it does

maybe I haven't really considered it I guess because I'm busy in the studio or I'm busy on the road

my feedback comes directly from people who are at the shows if they're having a good time if the crowd was active if they were making me laugh and then after that's done and then I go back and work on new music

so I suppose like I don't, a nice review always, always feels nice, but it's not something I ever go seeking. It's usually brought to me. And if there's bad ones, I don't think that's brought to me. So I don't have much of opinion on the matter. I think that's much of your way to live. Plus, you what, like you said, like you get real life feedback every time you go out on the stage. And if something's not hitting, you're going to find out very quickly.

Yeah. I'll know myself before someone tells me, yeah. Right. But I think, I think it's important. I suppose. Everybody has opinions, and some are louder than others, I suppose. But if somebody doesn't like one of my songs, I guess I'll just like, oh, okay, and then write new songs. I don't know. Okay. Last one in this round. One, two, or three?

Three. Three. What has age taught you about love? Mm. A lot of things, girl. I would say love is like a garden. If you pour into it, it can pour more into you. But somewhere out there, the love's always there.

Somewhere out there, the flower is always growing. There's always love. I can still have love for people that I can't stand. Love is the most powerful thing that makes up this. world, love is the motivator for human life, I'd say. And what I've learned about relationships in terms of love is something you do have to grow and we and care for and tend to. And it doesn't always feel like those lovey-dovey feelings of like infatuation.

And that's how you know you got the good stuff. When ain't nobody leaving nobody, you sit down, you work it out. Love grows stronger, like bark. So I'd say, yeah. I love the idea of bark. I don't know. It's sturdy and beautiful and quiet. I'm not here spitting.

Write this down. Are you good at tending the garden? Have there been chapters in your life when you have let the garden kind of burn up in the sun or taking it for granted? Haven't we all? Yeah. Haven't we all? Yes. Yes.

I have given too much water. I've given not enough water. I have left and not came back. You know, all the things. Like, I made mistakes. But I learn from my mistakes. You know, I don't try to keep perpetrating. Yeah.

I learn, I grow. And at the end of the day, you know, I'm a sensitive, loving person that likes to be a caretaker and likes to tend. I think I had to get through that part of love doesn't always feel nice. That's the young part of me that I had to grow out of. I'm not supposed to always feel nice. And here we are now. I'm going to get married soon and I'm looking forward to it. Come on.

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Hey, congratulations. Thank you. Congratulations. Yeah. It's so much of it is just in the state. isn't it? Just like, nope, I'm still going to stick.

I'm sticking right here through this bad thing or whatever. You just keep showing up. Yeah. Feels bad and I'm not going to where. And then one day the sun comes out again. Yeah. And it's all good. Yeah.

Okay. We're in our last round. Beliefs. One, two, or three. Two. Two. When do you feel most at peace? I feel most at peace when I've been working outside all day and I'm physically tired.

And the sun's starting to go down. It's about to be a beautiful sunset. And I sit down on like a stump or the back of the truck or something. And I'm taking those glugs of cold water and I'm wiping my brow off. And I'm just like, there's, I put everything. and to this day. And in those moments, I'm so tired. I can't overthink. I can't be neurotic. I can't be focused. I'm just, I just am. And that's where my piece is. Yeah. I love that. Okay, one, two, or three. One. Have you ever experienced a divine power? Have I ever experienced a divine power?

Have I ever experienced a divine force? However you define divinity. Sort of an okay thing. I mean, there's definitely been times where I feel like I was steered away from danger with a knowingness. Yeah. That has been amazing. Back in the day, I was driving a work truck, and the rain was so thick. I couldn't see the taillights the car in front of me.

So I'm just going like, I don't know, 30. And I'm driving down this, it's like a parkway. And I'm driving. All of a sudden, I see that all the cars in front of me are stopped. I'm about to slam into the back of this car. And then my hand just kind of turned the wheel. And I wasn't sure what I was turning into. I couldn't see.

I just turned, and it just happened to be an off-ramp, like, right there. Wow. You know, I didn't know that was there. I couldn't tell. But I felt very divinely protected in that moment because I would have smashed the car pretty bad. And another instance of maybe divine intervention, I pull up to a stoplight on my way home. I stopped there every night. And this night, I want to say it was like a voice, but it wasn't like an audible voice.

It was like a thought that wasn't my thought. I know what my thoughts sound like. And it was like the light turned green. And then I heard this little thought say, like, just wait two seconds. And so I just sat at the light and waited for two seconds. And this car comes flying through running the red light. It was probably going 65, 70 miles per hour. It would have, I mean, I don't know, I might not be sitting here today.

It was going very fast with a T-boned me. So maybe that was divine intervention. Sounds like you're not quick to just be like, lucky, just lucky. I am lucky as well, but I think that was different. But it sounds like something. I hear you suggesting something else might have been at play, and you're open to that.

Oh, absolutely, yeah, some sort of, I don't know if it's angels or guardian angels or what it was, but it was definitely, it felt like something other than my own self ensuring my safety, whatever that might be. Yeah. Yeah. Last three. One, two, or three.

I'm going to pick three, and you're going to answer it. Oh, Lord. Have your feelings about death changed over time? Look at you. And I'll wait. Okay, my feelings about death have changed. regular listeners to our show will know that both my parents have passed. My mom died when she was only 60, which felt real young.

And so I think any time you lose a person, you think about how finite all of it is. And you're mad for a while, and I was angry for a while, and I was angry for a while, especially around my mom. And then selfishly, and I was just sad for myself. I was like, these are all the things she's not going to get to see. And these are all the experiences I'm going to have without her. And that just seems like a raw deal. But I'm older. You know, it's never easy, obviously. It's a horrible human thing to endure. But it's also like we've been talking about, it is a natural part of living is the dying. And I mean, I'm talking a good talk right now. I don't know if it's always horrible, but I hope when confronted with my own imminent demise or that of a loved one,

that I will accept it in a different way that I did with my mom's death because I did. I did. I did. not accept it very readily then. So that's my answer. And no one could blame you. Yeah. Now you have to answer it. My relationship to death. Hmm.

So I watched someone, my sister, suffer before she died. And then death looked different. At first it was very scary because, you know, she'll be gone. Everyone will be sad all the time. But it was the suffering that made it seem like a gift. And, of course, like you said, if you're born, that's your guaranteed. I owe you to death. Like, you will go somewhere.

And recently I lost my grandmother who I was very close to. I'm sorry. And that was hard. Yeah. Because it, like you said, it's too soon. It wasn't old enough yet. So that hurt, yeah, and felt unfair because she's a very good person. And the way she left us didn't feel dignified enough for her, for the type of person she was.

So, yeah, I have angry feelings about that. But then, like you said, it's life and it's a raw deal. and I believe that there's another place. Divine or not, it could be a scientific place, a different plane, something my brain doesn't fully understand. But I do believe there's another place, and I do believe at the end of someone's life, everyone who's left is really the one who suffers.

So in some ways, I feel like she went to peace, and then it makes me feel a little bit better. And one day, hopefully a long time from now, because I've got lots of plans, one day I'll go to that peace too. And when I call it peace and not death, it makes it less unfortunate. Yeah. Yeah. Do you feel your grandma or your sister in certain ways at certain times? Absolutely.

Absolutely, yeah. Yeah, my sister's been with me throughout my whole life. And as soon as I open my door, I have this big picture of her. and I at the end of my hallway. So I see her every day. And I talk to her all the time. And it's not a sad thing anymore. It's just a part of my life.

You know, how to say about grief. It's not that it necessarily gets easier. It's more that you get used to it. And it's been 20-some years since then. Yeah. You were young. How old was she when she died? 13.

Yeah. And I was eight. Yeah. Yeah. We end the show the same way every time. with a trip in our memory time machine. Oh. In the memory time machine,

you pick one moment from your past that you'd like to revisit. It is not a moment you would change anything about. It's just a moment you'd like to linger in a little longer. Which moment do you choose? Girl, get out. That is hard. Is it?

That is very hard. Well, it doesn't have to be like the life-defining moment. It's just like sit, sit with it and see what comes up. Okay. One moment where I would linger is just at the end of the day where my family was all together. We would sit around the TV and we'd all watch the Simpsons. Oh, hi. I'm a nose-crier, hold on.

Yeah. At the end of the day, I would like to go back to me, my mother, my father, my sister, all sitting around at the end of the day, watching the Simpsons 7 p.m. altogether. That would be it. Yeah, that sounds awesome. Brittany Howard. Thank you. Did I make you cry? Yes, you made me cry.

That's what you get. Brittany Howard. you so much for doing this. Thank you so much for having me. I've loved it. Brittany Howard and Alabama Shakes, their new album is called I Must Be Dreaming. Hey, thanks so much for listening. If you appreciate this show, can I ask you a favor? I would love it if you would leave a rating or review us wherever you listen to or watch Wildcard. It really helps other people find a show and it helps our team understand exactly what you're loving about it. Thank you so much.

This episode was produced by Mitra Arthur and Lee Hale. It was edited by Dave Blanchard and mastered by Josephine Nia Nye. Wildcard's executive producer is Yolanda Sangueni, and our theme music is by Romteen Arablewee. You can reach out to us at Wildcard at npr.org. We'll shuffle up the deck and be back with more next week. Talk to you then.