Al is a force and no better place to see her than The Barn for a full intimate experience. Her songs are filled with rich personal stories and her voice is mesmerizing.  Not to mention her amazing sense of humor!

For singer/songwriter Al Olender, facing her fear of the truth has been a cleansing, often cathartic process that’s led to the kind of revelations she had previously thought unobtainable. On her debut full-length album Easy Crier, the Upstate New York based artist asks: what happens if we vow to never tell a lie, ever again? Charting the daunting territories of staring your demons right in the face and prodding at the ugly parts of your reflection, Olender pieces together her most vulnerable moments to produce a celebratory and beautiful rumination on grief, and reminds us of the power that comes in really getting to know yourself.

The catalyst for this renewed outlook stems from the sudden loss of her older brother. As a huge supporter of Olender’s musical talents from the very beginning, he would often invite his friends over and encourage a then-teenage Olender to play her “angsty love songs” for them. “Everything that I do musically revolves around my brother,” she says. “It's like every single thing I do in my life – my brother is so much in the front of my mind.”

Chances are that by now you’re already familiar with the Felice Brothers of Catskill, New York, one of our brightest burning lights in the family band firmament. Exuberant, spirited, often disarmingly whimsical and rooted in the hootenanny, the various combinations of brothers and chosen family members that have made up the workhorse band have been at it for nearly twenty years, gone from beloved subway buskers to touring act and festival stage mainstays over the course of ten albums. They are famously Connor Oberst’s favorite band - they’ve backed him up and put out records on two of his labels. Throughout the Brothers’ run, James Felice has always cut a distinctive figure on stage - just to the right of his brother Ian, pulling to and fro the bellows of an accordion, head thrown back in ecstatic vocal harmony. But the lunch pail road dogs are getting older, these days it’s a lot less fun to sleep on a bus, what kind of real work can you do when playing songs has been your whole life? Just as he appears in the album art, James is at the party alone now, spilled wine running down the tablecloth, the sun rising in the distance budges a foot in the door.