B-Side Guys

Some covers restore songs to their intended form rather than reimagining them entirely. Sam Edelston’s version of Brandi Carlile’s “You and Me on the Rock,” released twenty-six days ago, operates as musical archaeology—returning the track to its original instrumental DNA after learning it was conceived on dulcimer before being translated to guitar for its Grammy-nominated recording. This isn’t mere tribute but active cultural preservation disguised as contemporary folk rock.

Edelston’s mission to make “fretted dulcimers as popular—and as badass—as guitars” finds perfect expression through this particular song choice. Carlile’s original, written with the Hanseroth twins on dulcimer, represents exactly the kind of crossover moment Edelston champions—popular music acknowledging the mountain dulcimer’s potential beyond traditional folk contexts. By reclaiming the instrument’s role, he demonstrates how covers can function as historical correction rather than simple interpretation.

The collaboration with Teddy Parker creates textural richness that supports rather than competes with the dulcimer’s distinctive voice. Parker’s violin work and shared vocal duties provide harmonic foundation that allows Edelston’s acoustic and electric dulcimers to occupy their rightful center stage. This arrangement choice proves the instrument’s capacity for both delicate intimacy and powerful projection—capabilities that Edelston has spent decades developing through his viral interpretations of Led Zeppelin and The Ramones.

Carlile’s original environmental themes—the track’s connection to Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” through its protest against overdevelopment—gain additional resonance through the dulcimer’s presence. An instrument rooted in American folk tradition becomes perfect vehicle for examining humanity’s relationship with landscape, creating thematic coherence that feels intentional rather than coincidental.

Perhaps most effectively, this cover demonstrates how instrumental choice can transform familiar material without altering its essential character. Edelston’s approach proves that the dulcimer’s three-string limitation—which kept him away from the instrument for thirty years—actually provides unique sonic opportunities rather than restrictions. His ability to make “three strings sound like multiple instruments, or even an entire band” transforms apparent constraint into creative advantage.

The track succeeds as both successful cover and successful advocacy for underrepresented instrumentation. Through careful attention to the original’s emotional weight while highlighting the dulcimer’s distinctive capabilities, Edelston has created something that honors Carlile’s work while advancing his own mission of expanding the instrument’s cultural presence. Sometimes the most radical artistic act is simply giving forgotten voices their proper platform.