Article Contributed by Gratefulweb
Published on 2026-10-11
Nashville-based bluegrass duo Oh Me Oh My released their new single, “Let Me Ride in Your Big Cadillac,” on October 9. The track is a bluegrass reinterpretation of the late Blaze Foley’s outlaw country favorite, transformed into a driving arrangement built around the duo’s signature close harmony singing, guitar, and mandolin.
Oh Me Oh My is guitarist/vocalist Scott Simontacchi and mandolinist/vocalist David Long, two Pennsylvania natives who met by chance at a campground jam in Wilkesboro, North Carolina, in 1999 — only to discover they'd grown up a few miles apart outside Pittsburgh.
They've been playing together ever since, carrying their original songwriting across stages in Australia, Finland, and beyond, rooted in a traditional sound that draws on both modern bluegrass and traditional string band style.
“Let Me Ride in Your Big Cadillac” marks a rare departure from the band's own songbook. The song was introduced to them by their friend, fiddler John Showman of the Lonesome Ace Stringband, during a late-night jam session.
“We were immediately drawn to the vivid imagery the song creates,” says Scott Simontacchi. “We loved the idea of taking something outside the traditional bluegrass repertoire and interpreting it through our own musical language. It felt like the right first release because it's memorable, energetic, and gives listeners a clear introduction to what Oh Me Oh My is about — drawing from tradition while choosing material that allows us to create something distinctive.”
The recording features Simontacchi on guitar and vocals, Long on mandolin and vocals, Robert Trapp on banjo, Billy Contreras on fiddle, and Evan Winsor on bass.
The assembled musicians bring considerable energy and personality to the arrangement, turning a well-loved outlaw country song into something that feels unmistakably Oh Me Oh My's own.
About Oh Me Oh My
They came from the same Pennsylvania hills without knowing one another.
Scott Simontacchi and David Long grew up around Pittsburgh, only a few miles apart, listening to whatever music found its way through the walls and out of the radios. But the world has a strange geography when it comes to friendship. Sometimes you have to travel a few hundred miles to meet the fellow who was down the road all along.
It happened in 1999, at a campground in Wilkesboro, North Carolina. There were instruments out and songs being passed around. Scott had a guitar. David had a mandolin. They played together, and somewhere along the way discovered where each had come from. Pittsburgh. Nearly the same neighborhood. They laughed about it and kept playing.
They've been playing ever since.
The years carried Oh Me Oh My across oceans, through Australia and Finland, into theaters, festivals, back rooms, and long nights. Their music has always been built largely around songs of their own making, carried by those two voices, close together, leaning into the same melody as though they'd been singing it longer than either could remember.
Both Pennsylvania natives, Scott and David were drawn to Southern Appalachian-based music at an early age, and they've spent their lives immersed in it since, not as a quick path to something else, but as a lifelong reflection of who they are and what they want to represent within the culture of this music.
That commitment shows in the sound they've settled into: a neo-traditional style that mirrors the current Nashville bluegrass scene, where progressive technique and old-time string band roots share the same room. It's music built on feeling rather than effect, played because it's true, not because it's calculated.
Their newest recording, “Let Me Ride in Your Big Cadillac,” comes from the late Blaze Foley and marks a rare departure from their own songbook. Their dear friend, fiddler John Showman, brought the song into a jam session one night. Nobody made a ceremony of it. John knew the song. They played it. The song stayed.
That's the funny thing about songs. You don't always choose the ones that follow you home.
Twenty-seven years have passed since Wilkesboro. The road has changed. The men have changed. They are all of their failures and successes, and they're still here, still relevant, still striving, still paying dues, still showing up. Not because they have to, but because they want to be part of the living culture of this music.
But put a guitar and a mandolin in their hands, and some things are right where they were.
