Rooster Blackspur: Carried by Song, saying good-bye to southern NM

For Rooster Blackspur, life has never unfolded according to a fixed map. Instead, it has been a journey led by intuition, by unexpected invitations, and by the gravitational pull of songs.

From her early years in Alaska to a transformative season in the deserts of New Mexico and now to the heart of Nashville, Blackspur’s path has been less about calculated steps and more about listening for the next melody of life.

“I know the feeling when my life is asking me to go somewhere new,” Blackspur says. “I try to pay attention when it shows up.”

That instinct recently carried her to Nashville—though the journey began thousands of miles away in Truth or Consequences. A stranger, convinced that Blackspur needed to go to Nashville, believed in the idea so strongly that the person paid to send her there to record at Cinderella Studios, one of the city’s most storied rooms.

At first, Blackspur was skeptical. “I had never thought about Nashville. I just kind of assumed it was about country music, and I wouldn’t consider myself country,” she says. “But once I recorded here, I realized Nashville is about songs—all kinds of songs. Songs have been changing people’s lives in Nashville for a really long time. And I’m a songwriter, first and foremost. Why wouldn’t I live in the land of songs, even for a little while?”

Roots in Alaska

Blackspur was born and raised in Alaska, where her musical journey began at the age of four. In a secondhand store with her mother, she sat down at a little plug-in organ and immediately began to play. Recognizing something in her, her mother encouraged her to save her allowance and buy it. From that moment forward, music was inseparable from her identity.

“I never had lessons, never learned to read music,” she says. “But every day, I played and sang and wrote little songs.”

By the time she was old enough to haunt Juneau’s dive bars, she was battling for stage time at the Alaskan, a rough, late-night hotel venue where open-mic hopefuls waited hours for their chance. The environment was merciless.

“The crowds were loud and rowdy. You had to command respect from the stage quickly, or you’d get drowned out,” she said.

That crucible shaped Blackspur as a performer. Piano was her first instrument, but eventually she taught herself guitar and after years of gigging across Alaska, she realized she needed a wider stage. Fifteen years ago, she left for the lower 48 to pursue music full time.

The Desert Years

When the pandemic halted touring, Blackspur’s path swerved again. She opened the Giddy Up Café in Truth or Consequences, both to survive and to root herself in the desert she had felt drawn to since a transformative trip to the Grand Canyon.

What began as a detour stretched into a seven-year odyssey.

“New Mexico changed me,” she says. “It gave me a goldmine of fodder for songs and life. I became a desert dweller. I thought I might grow old there.”

The pull to move again, though, eventually arrived. And this time, the compass pointed east.

Nashville: The Land of Songs

Landing in Nashville, Blackspur discovered a community bursting with musicians, songwriters, and collaborators who understood the hunger to create. Within ten months of arriving, she and her band had landed a residency at The 5 Spot, one of the city’s beloved venues.

“There’s so much support here,” she says. “Artists need each other to stay inspired and stay focused. These are my people.”

Recording at Cinderella Studios was another revelation. Founded in 1961 by Wayne Moss, the studio is a time capsule, complete with its original carpet and a rare Flickinger soundboard that imparts a warmth difficult to replicate in modern studios. Ray Charles’ grand piano sits in the room, and the ghosts of sessions past seem to hover in the walls.

“Walking into that space, you feel the history,” Blackspur said. “We recorded old-school Nashville style—everybody in the room, three, two, one, go. There’s something beautiful about colliding with players who have so much history and experience.”

Among them was Charlie McCoy, the legendary harmonica player who has recorded with everyone from Elvis Presley to Bob Dylan.

“Being supported by musicians like that—it’s humbling. It makes you realize how forever music is. Even after you’re gone, your songs can still touch people,” she said.

Songs as Polaroids

For Blackspur, songwriting is both mystical and disciplined. She describes songs as “invisible butterflies” that land when they will, sometimes waking her in the middle of the night. She sees herself less as a creator and more as a receiver.

“I ask the songs, what are you here to say?” she explains. “Sometimes it’s like getting a puzzle piece. You have to listen closely to capture what it’s trying to become.”

She likens songs to Polaroid pictures—snapshots of human experience that preserve a feeling, a moment, a truth.

“Everything I have to show for my life is in the shape of a song,” she said.

New Album: The Cinderella Sessions

The result of her Nashville recording sessions is "The Cinderella Sessions," an album steeped in the city’s traditions but filtered through Blackspur’s distinctive voice and life story. It’s both a product of Nashville’s collaborative energy and an extension of the long road that led her there—from piano lessons on a thrift-store organ, to commanding rowdy Alaskan bars, to playing songs in desert canyons.

“Music is the singular focus now,” she said. “This life is a window of time, and I want to give everything I can to the pursuit of songs. There’s a crack in the door here in Nashville, and I want to be ready to run through it.”

Though her address may have changed, the desert remains part of her.

“My seven years in New Mexico were some of the best years of my life,” she said. “There’s always going to be a part of my heart shaped by that land. In my heart, I’ll always be a New Mexican.”

From the forests of Alaska to the canyons of New Mexico to the studios of Nashville, Blackspur has followed the songs wherever they’ve called. And wherever they take her next, it’s clear that she will keep chasing them—not as a destination, but as a way of life.