Tag: Banjo

Max Allard Wrote a Banjo Concerto

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The banjo, a sonic staple of folk and bluegrass, has often been left to its established devices in traditional circles or, more optimistically, among contemporary newgrass like Punch Brothers, the Infamous Stringdusters, and New Grass Revival, which included the genre-bending banjoist himself, Béla Fleck. Still, some musical spaces, like classical performance and composition, remain largely devoid of the banjo despite its lengthy and socially complex history, global presence, and tonal variety. Thankfully, between artists like Fleck, Noam Pikelny, John Bullard, and others, classical compositions have had a chance to shine on the instrument, paving the way for next-generation players to embrace and mix the traditions of classical writing with the distinct sound and musical capabilities of the banjo.

One such figure rising to the occasion is composer and artist Max Allard. A recent graduate of Oberlin College’s Conservatory of Music, the Chicago native is a champion of many cultures and genres in his work, which Allard describes as “an unclassifiable mix of bluegrass, jazz, new acoustic, classical, and pop.”

Allard has brought his stylistic openness to every facet of his artistry, including a duo with his brother Otto Allard; a bluegrass ensemble he co-founded, EZRA, that includes mandolinist Jacob Jolliff, guitarist and composer Jesse Jones, and bassist Craig Butterfield; and his touring support of Michigan-based bands Full Cord and Westbound Situation and Virginia-based band the Hackensaw Boys. Another instance finding him pushing banjo boundaries was his collaborative performance with fellow banjoists Bill Evans, BB Bowness, Cassidy Beentjes, and Matt Flinner in an adventurous arrangement of “In C,” the iconic composition by American minimalist composer Terry Riley, as part of a commissioned work series at the 2025 FreshGrass Festival.

Many of these ambitions grew alongside or after Allard’s studies, giving him several creative contexts in which to nurture his knowledge of classical forms and styles. One of the most impactful of these opportunities was part of Allard’s collegiate work itself: A Concerto for banjo and mixed ensemble. Encouraged by his EZRA bandmate and Oberlin professor Jesse Jones, Allard wrote his single movement work in 2023, giving the world premiere with the Oberlin Contemporary Music Ensemble under conductor Tim Weiss in December 2024. Though the piece has long since debuted, Allard’s vision for what the concerto would accomplish and what the experience of writing it revealed to him along the way remain ongoing sources of inspiration and guidance as Allard continues to write and perform for anyone who wants to listen. (Watch a video of Allard’s Concerto below.)

BGS recently spoke with Allard over the phone, discussing the many branches of his work as an artist and composer. We dive into how each stylistic space blends with his classical training, where he sees the banjo’s place in classical performance, his thoughts on cross-genre efforts by other artists, and more.

How would you describe the journey around your Banjo Concerto and its compositional process?

Max Allard: I had anticipated [the piece] for a while. I had gotten into Oberlin College as a composition major and part of the reason I chose Oberlin is because composition faculty member [Jesse Jones] comes from a background of playing bluegrass. He plays mandolin, some banjo, and guitar so I knew that I would have someone in the faculty on my side to help me, to know where I was coming from and to help guide the path forward in terms of a study and a pedagogy that I had not been taught before. So Jesse told me, “I think it would be great for your work here at Oberlin to culminate into a banjo concerto.”

I had the plan of approaching the banjo as a concert instrument – and as a concert instrument with the supporting ensemble. To do that, I had to get away a little bit from the folk aspects of the banjo in terms of a composition process, while still embracing those same aspects in terms of style.

[The concerto] sort of started as a banjo draft. And something I think is interesting to mention is that people have compared my banjo playing before to piano players and it’s a very valid comparison, because I take a lot of inspiration from piano players like Keith Jarrett, Chilly Gonzales, and many European classical composers like Sergei Rachmaninoff and Frédéric Chopin. I have long thought of the banjo as a very capable instrument to take solo composition very seriously on. I had to find ways to creatively think about which instruments to give various roles to. The nice thing was that I got to pick the makeup of the ensemble. I knew I wanted to have celesta. I wanted to have clarinet, flute with piccolo – there were certain sounds I knew I wanted to include.

I had very specific ideas about which instrument fulfills which role. It’s definitely a string-heavy piece and I’m a huge fan of writing for strings. So I had known that this piece would provide me the depths that the banjo doesn’t always have. I thought, “I can fill out these luscious piano-like chords that I usually like to write on the banjo, with the help of the supporting string section that has a much broader range than the banjo has by itself.” It was actually really liberating for me, because having an ensemble with a very diverse range – not just timbre-ly, but sonically and in terms of highs and lows – I had many options. It was a really great blank canvas for me to further explore creativity without some of the limitations of the banjo, be it physical or range related, or what have-you. I was able to basically apply my banjo knowledge and compositional tendencies to a blank slate, which presented a lot more opportunities.

What are your thoughts on the banjo’s “place” in classical music?

The banjo has a very checkered, problematic history and there’s a lot of moral debate that I’ve witnessed amongst people about what the banjo’s role is. It has had many different roles – a lot of it actually being erased. We talk about the problematic history of the banjo being used for minstrelsy but we actually forget about the banjo’s history of being used in parlor music. For a long time, the banjo actually had a role being played in parlors and social events, and even playing classical music.

I find it funny when people sort of criticize the banjo these days because the reputation has been ruined so much. People tend to think of the banjo with the film Deliverance. That film sort of ruined the reputation of the banjo as being this hillbilly folk instrument that’s not taken seriously. Unfortunately, that stereotype still exists, so people sort of scoff at banjo players who want to elevate the instrument into a certain concert environment.

I think all instruments can be used however people want. It’s like the artist has a final say in how they want to showcase their instrument. But for me, I think I’ll always still want to pay my respects to the traditions of the banjo. And as I said, the banjo has, throughout history, been used in a variety of different contexts. What I try to do is bridge the gap of pedagogic composition and folk music. If we’re talking about my banjo concerto, I want to write well-written concert music but [avoid creating] a totally contrived piece of music that just tries its best to fit the banjo in with an ensemble. I want to at least take my understanding of bluegrass, folk music, and old time music and still amalgamate it with concert music.

What do you find you learn most from other banjo players who have thrived in the classical space like Noam Pikelny, Béla Fleck, John Bullard, and others?

Broadly speaking, if [banjo players] want to put our instruments in the classical space, we need to do our best to understand the way the classic musicians think – really get in the minds of classical musicians. If one, as a banjo player, wants to pursue classical music, it behooves them to get at least a decent understanding of concert music. And I think most banjo players [like Fleck, Pikelny, Bullard] who have attempted that absolutely do have a different understanding. I just think the understanding of how deep it actually goes, what details go into really good concert music – it just takes a long, long time to master. And I am nowhere close to mastering it. But I at least have an understanding of how little I knew before attending [Oberlin].

Are there any aspects of Terry Riley’s “In C” that were especially challenging to capture with this banjo-centric arrangement?

I should give a shout out to Cassidy Beentjes, who did all this arranging – a really good pedagogue of the banjo. In terms of limitations though, the key [was one]. With the banjo’s natural key being G major, we took the piece down to a G-major tuning, so it makes much more sense to play the piece in G, especially since we want to achieve certain overtones. We could have played in C with a C tuning, but a lot of complexity would have arisen from playing in a foreign tuning. We were already uncomfortable in the first place, you know, with a piece of music like this, because banjo players don’t get the opportunity to do something like this very often, so we were careful.

What aspect of your musical identity does EZRA help you to fulfill that you don’t necessarily achieve in the same way with other pursuits?

I’d say it’s a good opportunity to write for a smaller acoustic ensemble where there’s a good understanding of not only folk and bluegrass, but also classical and jazz music.

It makes a big difference when you’re writing for people who you’re friends with – writing for people you know. You want to give people roles that you know they’re going to enjoy doing and that they do well. When I write for EZRA, it’s definitely much more stripped down and basic than if I were writing something like the banjo concerto. Because with the banjo concerto, I give very specific instructions, I supply a whole score with those specific instructions for everyone to read from. And when I’m writing for EZRA, usually I’m just writing lead sheets, just chords with the melody. In terms of arrangements, that can be discussed in the studio.

It’s funny though, because anytime we’ve recorded a record, we’ve had such limited studio time that we have to get our act together in just 72 hours or so and make our arrangements studio-ready. But again, that’s freeing for me, because I can write more vague ideas, stuff that I would not feel as intrepid writing with a big ensemble. When I’m with EZRA, I can just do whatever the heck I want and know that we can get away with it in some way. It’s also definitely a great opportunity for me to write contemporary folk music that is absolutely rooted in folk and bluegrass but also has all these other influences. A lot of Béla Fleck influence, a lot of classical music as influence – all kinds of stuff. It’s definitely a very special opportunity for me.

What’s the most unique aspect about the duo you perform in with your brother? How do you both approach playing together?

I guess the main thing that stands out is just the brotherly synergy. My brother is the easiest musician to play with because we know each other so darn well. Not much has to be planned – there’s almost never any stress. We’ve played plenty of gigs where we haven’t rehearsed at all beforehand and it goes pretty well just because we can glance at each other a certain way and know exactly what we mean musically. We’ve also played gigs where like a half hour has gone by and the whole thing is improvised. We just weave sounds together and it’s great.

It’s great to have a brother who plays music because it’s just that very intense, personal connection that one has with their sibling. You know each other so well that no communication really has to be done verbally. In general, playing with my brother is just very fun because we make crazy, spontaneous decisions and do ridiculous things that we would not do in any other setting.

Do you think the folk and bluegrass communities could better embrace the banjo being a genre-versatile instrument? And do you think that schools or community spaces are the best starting place to initiate that shift?

If I were talking to a banjo player who wants to get into classical music, I would say you can learn just as much by surrounding yourself with the right people. I think the most viable option is to try to meet some people who come from that background. And it can be any background. Like, say you want to get into a certain style – find musicians who can do that and try your best to talk to them, befriend them, whatever you can, and surround yourself with that. I think community is always important in the arts. Definitely, it’s very important to surround yourself with people – not even not necessarily like-minded people – but people who have very different experiences and very different backgrounds. Personally and musically in any way.

I think the bluegrass culture and scene could definitely benefit from opening themselves up a little bit. I think sometimes we forget that bluegrass has a very progressive foundation to it. Even Bill Monroe valued when he heard New Grass Revival. He was supportive of it, supportive of all those people who were taking bluegrass in a different direction. So I think it’s very progressive by nature. And music has always evolved and always will evolve and it has to sort of be accepted.

I think the banjo is actually in a very good place right now, because we’ve never had so many banjo players. It’s very good because the banjo is becoming popular for the right reasons – not necessarily gimmicky reasons, with banjos being used in pop music – but it’s being taken seriously amongst musicians from all different types of backgrounds. Broadly speaking, I don’t have too many complaints. I think it’s in good hands.

Photo Credit: Tanya Rosen-Jones

The Lowest Pair Are as Enchanting as Ever

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s fitting to enjoy the Lowest Pair’s new album, Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, in the opening weeks of a new year. In particular, the song “Give It All Away” gently offers a theme of letting go amid an orchestration of acoustic guitar, banjo, and other subdued instrumentation. As the song swells, a soft percussion begins to underscore a sense of renewal.

“I feel the lightest when I give it all/ Give it all away,” sings Kendl Winter in the opening moments; she’s later joined by bandmate Palmer T. Lee when they harmonize on a simple yet poetic lyric: “Before the sun, there was the rain/ Before the rain, there was the sun.”

Indeed, it’s been quite a few seasons – six years in fact – since the Lowest Pair released an album of their own. The duo enlisted Tucker Martine to produce the new project, recorded in Portland, Oregon. There are some surprising musical textures for longtime fans of the duo, but at the heart of the Lowest Pair, there’s still the welcoming vibe that’s enchanted listeners since their 2014 debut album.

“We were really excited about the recording situation, being with Tucker Martine in his studio, and having such beautiful musicians paint our songs, to flesh them out more than just the two of us,” Winter says. “They really did lean into the medium of the studio and the sounds that were available to us. There are a lot of instruments and musicians…”

“… A lot of other people’s ideas coming into the mix. We were just feeling open to that,” Lee adds.

Although both Winter and Lee are reluctant to divulge too much about the meanings behind the songs, listeners will certainly relate to lyrics about making it through rough patches (“Diamonds”) and learning to find comfort in the unknown (“Uncertain Seas”). The album’s country-tinged closing track, “Thorn,” is an elegant ode to getting past the pain.

“You visit these things that hurt often. I mean, we all do,” says Winter, who wrote the song. “That’s what grief is, right? You’re kind of hoping you’ll figure it out, and then it’ll go away. …

“With Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, the whole theme is now, and now, and now, and trying to be in the present with things. There’s a love and there’s a ‘go to hell’ in that song. There’s a wanting to hold things sacred but also let them go.”

The album is actually named for a song that didn’t make the final track listing; Martine loved the phrase so much that he insisted the band should keep it as the title. The words are wistful enough to also call to mind the 2009 bluegrass festival in Minnesota, where Palmer, Lee, and a few other musicians stayed up late jamming along the Mississippi River.

“That was really pretty special!” Winter recalls. “Both of us were playing banjos in different bluegrass bands at the same festival. I saw Palmer playing and singing and I loved his voice and I loved his melodic style. I still hadn’t seen a bunch of other banjo players exploring more, like, off-the-grid playing and more melodic approaches. And after he played, I think I said something about it, right?”

“Well, I think the first time, you were just like, ‘Hey, nice banjo playing.’ And I was like, ‘Thanks, random person,” Lee remembers with a laugh. “Then maybe a few hours later, you were just like, ‘I really dug your melodic style,’ And it’s like, ‘Oh… you’re a banjo player.’”

Growing up in Arkansas, Winter heard the banjo in bluegrass, but considered herself more of a punk rocker. Hearing Béla Fleck & the Flecktones changed her perception of what tones and sounds could come from the instrument. Lee, a Minnesota native, inherited two banjos – one from each side of his family – when his relatives heard about his burgeoning interest in music. He dismantled them both to create one instrument specifically suited to his personal taste.

Several years later, after that initial encounter at the riverbank, Winter decided to quit her band; Lee asked if she needed a singing partner. Remembering their easy musical bond, she invited him to Olympia, Washington, where she’d relocated in her early twenties. In turn, he asked her to make a duo record with some time he’d already booked. Thus, the Lowest Pair was born.

“I think, serendipitously, both of our bands were falling apart at the same time, and I was exploring ideas about how to move forward in my career,” Lee says. “It was like, maybe if I collaborate with somebody and make a record that way, that could be a way forward.”

Now living about a mile apart in Olympia, Winter and Lee will be touring the Pacific Northwest this spring. At the merch table they’ll have some lino-cut carvings and prints, new posters, stickers, and T-shirts, and of course, vinyl copies of Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be. (The album art is a watercolor painted by Winter’s mother, Jill Morgan.) Along with the new material, they’ll also be mixing in catalog cuts like “Too Late, Babe” and “Rosie.”

Asked about the enduring popularity of the former song, Lee chalks it up to placement on an editorial playlist when it was released as a single in 2020. “I have this vague memory at one point of someone after a show mentioning that we played a really good cover of that ‘Too Late, Babe’ song,” he says. “That was like, ‘Hell, yeah!’”

As for “Rosie,” Winter says, “Yeah, that one’s still in the set list. That one is a really early one. I was playing that even before we had started the Lowest Pair. And it’s really interesting what people latch onto, because it’s simple. I mean, I wrote it crying.

“I think with songs, you can kind of feel the ones that come from your heart. They did the thing. They gave you the goosebumps when you wrote it, and then they continue to have that effect, and it’s pretty cool.”

That emotional effect remains in place for Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, too.

“I took a lot of space from it and hadn’t listened to it for a few months before we started talking about what we’re gonna do with it,” Lee says of the album. “And I remember being kind of surprised. You know, there’s an amount of pride and accomplishment. I was grateful to have contributed to it.”

Photo Credit: Sarah Cass

The Foreign Landers Celebrate the Banjo in Ireland & Northern Ireland

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The five-string banjo is often associated with Appalachian music, but its reach has always extended beyond one place. In Ireland, the banjo is traditionally heard as the four-string tenor banjo, a cornerstone of Irish folk music. This playlist celebrates the banjo in Ireland and Northern Ireland, but focuses instead on five-string banjo players, highlighting Irish and Northern Irish artists who are bringing bluegrass banjo into folk, Americana, and contemporary acoustic settings. The tracks here feature musicians working across traditions and genres, using the banjo as a bridge rather than a boundary.

For us, The Foreign Landers, this playlist is closely tied to our own story. Our songs, woven throughout the playlist, reflect life lived between Northern Ireland and the U.S., and the relationships, faith, and sense of distance that shape that experience. In a small way, that mirrors the five-string banjo’s own journey across time and place. Our new album, Made to Wonder, is our expression of these ideas; including our music alongside these other innovative artists helps frame our transatlantic sound within a much larger conversation.

Alongside our music, you’ll hear boundary-pushing banjo work from artists like Flook, JigJam, Damien O’Kane, Ron Block, I Draw Slow, Brian Finnegan, and NÁVA, each offering a different answer to the same question: What does bluegrass banjo become when it’s rooted in Irish soil?

The result is a playlist that honors tradition while continuing to move forward. We hope you enjoy. – The Foreign Landers

“Made to Wonder” – The Foreign Landers

The title track from our new album, this banjo-centric song is about stepping away from noise and busy-ness to find true rest and belonging in Christ, whose yoke is easy and burden light. Featuring Tristan Clarridge (Crooked Still) on cello, adding depth and resonance.

“Road to Errogie” – Flook

There’s something infectious about Flook’s craftsmanship and energy – especially when five-string banjo enters the mix, played by the incredible Leon Hunt of the UK. A major influence on our sound.

“Gold Mine” – I Draw Slow

Irish-based and deeply rooted in both Appalachian and Irish traditions, this clawhammer-driven track blends heritage with heart.

“Johnny’s Peacock / The Red-Tailed Hawk” – The Foreign Landers

Two original tunes deeply informed by Tabitha’s heritage, joined by John Doyle, Brian Finnegan, and Cathal Murphy, bringing Irish tradition and bluegrass energy together.

“John D. McGurk’s (The Heartbeat of St. Louis)” – JigJam

JigJam seamlessly bridge U.S. and Irish folk scenes. Irish banjoist Daithí Melia delivers powerful five-string work on this fun, high-energy track.

“Mario Kart Rides Again” – Ron Block & Damien O’Kane

Two banjos – five-string and four-string – done right. Ron Block of Alison Krauss & Union Station and Damien O’Kane of the Kate Rusby band make for an unxpected delightful pairing. Here is a playful, virtuosic track from their album Banjovial that’s near to Mario Kart-loving hearts.

“Pictures” – The Foreign Landers

Led vocally by David with Tabitha on banjo, this original song draws on our own experience of long-distance dating. “Pictures” captures the quiet weight of distance – and how old photographs can briefly collapse time and place. The unconventional role of banjo on this track is one of our favorite sounds on the new album.

“Marga’s” – Brian Finnegan

A must-include from the County Armagh master himself, featuring Crooked Still with Greg Lizst on five-string banjo. Both four-string and five-string banjo shine in this expansive, genre-blurring piece.

“The Thrifty Wife” – Ron Block & Damien O’Kane

Another Ron and Damien double-banjo banger. Their three collaboration albums are essential listening when talking about banjo in Irish music. Bonus mando moments from Sierra Hull seal the deal.

“Traveler”– The Foreign Landers

Narrated from the perspective of Tabitha’s parents back in Northern Ireland, “Traveler” reflects on growing older, separation, and the tenderness of loving someone from afar. Another unconventional banjo track that we loved making.

“Magic Box” – Nava

Irish Americana and folk meet Persian influences, led by Ireland’s Paddy Kiernan on five-string banjo. A rich example of cross-cultural musical exploration.

“Hope” – Cup O’Joe

Featuring Tabitha’s two brothers (alongside David and Tabitha), this title track from Why Live Without blends Northern Irish roots with progressive Americana.

Photo Credit: Nicole Davis, Storied Artisan Photography

The Man That Made All of Us Play the Banjo

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: For Earl Scruggs’s birthday, Thomas Goldsmith revisits a star-studded bluegrass festival tribute to the banjo legend from 1971 in Camp Springs, North Carolina. The 102nd anniversary of Scruggs’s 1924 birth in Flint Hill, North Carolina, is January 6, 2026.)

Like speakers at a testimonial dinner, each musician strode to the microphone in turn.

But instead of heaping on words of praise, a stage full of well-known pickers and up-and-comers used banjos to pay a lively tribute to Earl Scruggs.

The scene was the 1971 Labor Day weekend bluegrass festival in Camp Springs, North Carolina, at a performance where some of the best banjo players around joined Scruggs on stage. Led by the five-string king himself, banjoists including Sonny Osborne, J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, and Alan Munde jointly played Scruggs’s signature tune “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” some 22 years after its first recording.

The performance is a highlight of the 1972 documentary Bluegrass Country Soul, which enjoyed a 50-year deluxe re-release five years ago. Watch the clip here.

 

Sonny Osborne (left) gets emotional onstage after introducing Earl Scruggs (right). Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Promoter Carlton Haney invited more than a dozen banjo players on the festival schedule to play along with Scruggs, who was then 47. (A second group performance, of “Dear Old Dixie,” doesn’t appear in the film. And a couple of the “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performers didn’t make it to the screen.)

Millions of viewers have seen the clip as part of the movie or on YouTube, with Osborne bringing Scruggs on with an introduction that sounds starstruck.

“(It’d) be only right to call out probably the man that has made all of us guys up here play the banjo, or either has been a great influence, as he has in my complete life,” Osborne said. “In my whole banjo-playing ability … I could probably credit to this one man.

“Let’s all give a tremendous welcome to probably the best in the world, Earl Scruggs!”

Scruggs seemed overwhelmed by the audience’s ovation. The cheering feels as though it lasts forever, but took only a minute and a few seconds.

“That really fills my heart with joy,” Scruggs said after Osborne introduced him. “I did want to say one thing: Thank you, and guys like this is what keeps me going, my boys who works with me and you people who keep preaching music.

“I just don’t know what to say, except I’m picking with some guys that plays a tremendous amount of banjo. Don’t underestimate anybody up here. Man, they’re great.”

Earl at a Crossroads

In 1971, Scruggs had only broken up with his longtime duet partner Lester Flatt less than two years earlier. Not even a month before Camp Springs he had recorded along with other greats for Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s country-roots-popularizing Will the Circle Be Unbroken set. He was venturing into a country-rock sound with his band the Earl Scruggs Revue, along with his sons Randy, Gary, and Steve.

However, Scruggs’s work as a musical innovator remained – and remains – fundamental to the way a large share of bluegrass banjo players address the instrument. That’s true despite the introduction of a single-note style most associated with Don Reno and a chromatic or melodic approach heard in the playing of Bill Keith and Bobby Thompson.

Most of the pickers in the 1971 “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performance used the three-finger picking style Scruggs introduced in a band with Bill Monroe and Flatt on the Grand Ole Opry in 1945. The exception among the Camp Springs pickers, Rick Riman of the New Deal String Band, caused something of a stir with his chromatic rendition of the tune, not to mention his long hair, full beard, and striped shirt and pants.

How did Riman, who had also studied Scruggs style closely, decide to use the flowing melodic style for “Foggy Mountain Breakdown”?

“I just thought, “OK, let’s see if I can make this work,’” Riman, 83, said on the phone from Denver, Colorado, speaking to BGS in January 2026. “Because I had not prepared anything, and I didn’t even know what was on the program. They just said they want all the banjo players up there to pay tribute to Earl. And I said, ‘OK, I’ll get up there and do it.’”

And what has the reaction been?

“Mostly negative,” he said, with a touch of humor.

“One person said they were really glad to see somebody step out of the standardized [method], and that felt very, very good. Somebody else said, ‘You won’t believe how many people thought that you shouldn’t have been on stage at all.’

“And I get that a lot. That’s mostly the reaction I get, that I shouldn’t have been on stage. I shouldn’t have even been in the parking lot, like the least talented person on the stage and probably the least talented person in the whole park.”

The chromatic style remains one effective tool in the hands of players such as Béla Fleck and Noam Pikelny, but Riman, 28 that day in 1971, has gotten a load of grief over his choice to add some variety to the line of Scruggs-style players. “I would say, over the years, it’s pretty much been like 50-plus years of derision,” he said.

Riman has had one regret. “I should have practiced more,” he said. “I should have been better, but I had no idea.”

Although at Camp Springs he performed in the more recently created melodic and chromatic styles, like everyone on the stage that day in North Carolina, Riman was schooled in the style of the man honored beside them.

“I was really fascinated by Earl and anybody else who played his style pretty well,” he said.

 

Earl Scruggs reacts to his introduction and audience ovation and applause onstage in 1971 in Camp Springs, NC. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

“Everybody Headed for the Stage”

We were fortunate to reach three of the banjo warriors who performed that day. Sadly, most of the players heard then have since died. Eddie Hoyle, then 14, the youngest of the Camp Springs lineup, is among the survivors and is still actively performing. He talked to BGS on the phone in December from his home in Georgia.

“I was up there playing with Curtis Blackwell and the Dixie Bluegrass Boys and I just remember them telling me that Carlton wanted all the banjo players to come down on the stage and play a tune with Earl,” said Hoyle, now 68. “So I got my banjo out, and everybody headed for the stage.

“I didn’t know if I’d get to take a break or not, but somebody got me in the line that was walking up to the mic. So it was pretty cool. And I remember I was not nervous; OK, probably didn’t know enough to be nervous.”

Most of the players that day stuck fairly close to Scruggs’s own licks on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” but Hoyle and others ventured a bit from the classic performance.

“I always tried to learn the right way, as Dad told us to do, but then I would try to put my own twist on it,” Hoyle said.

Nearly half the banjo players that day have been inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. They include Scruggs himself, of course, as well as J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, Alan Munde, Sonny Osborne, and Don Stover. Another banjo picker, Saburo Watanabe Inoue, founder of the pioneering Japanese band Bluegrass 45, won the IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement award along with his brother Toshio, in 1995.

 

Sab Watanabe (who passed away in 2019) of the legendary Japanese band, Bluegrass 45, takes his turn at the mic. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Alan Munde Remembers it Well

Munde, 79, still a player and teacher, also spoke to BGS about the experience from his home in Springfield, Missouri. He recalled that he was playing with Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys at the festival and took part in the group performance because Martin wanted him to.

“Thinking back on it and also remembering at the time, I didn’t really want to be a part of it, just because, then and now, I thought I would be so unworthy,” Munde said. “But I think Jimmy wanted me to do it, and you notice he’s there [in the film.] He thought I needed to be there, so I did it.”

Munde remembers the day as a landmark for him, the only time he heard Scruggs play live. Given all the great banjoists and backing musicians including Martin and Charlie Waller, it was an enchanting moment from the sound of Scruggs’s first lick.

“The thing that I remember so much about it is … we’re all standing there and Earl’s talking, and then he’s going to start to play,” he said. “And he, I always call this his ‘chang,’ where he just plays the first, third, and fifth string together and starts into the tune.

“As soon as he did that, I thought, ‘Oh my God, there’s that sound.’ It just was immediately apparent that he was the one.”

 

Alan Munde (right) is flanked by Earl Scruggs during the all-banjos jam of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Like the first players to tune into Scruggs’s playing in 1945 and like players from Béla Fleck on, Munde appreciates Scruggs’s sound in a way that seems almost mystical. Scruggs produced something that no other banjo player could.

Jimmy Martin, Munde’s boss at the time, used to tell a story involving the great banjo man Vic Jordan to illustrate the way Scruggs’s beautifully nuanced playing and full tone stood above the crowd of his followers.

“Jimmy was kind of down on Vic Jordan a little bit,” Munde said. “And he would tell this story to show that Vic didn’t know the right way. He said when Vic met Earl, he asked him what kind of microphone he used.

“And Earl said, ‘Sometimes I use those little bitty ones, and sometimes I use those real big ones.’

“And Jimmy’s point was that, in his mind, Vic was asking because he thought it was the microphone. But it didn’t matter. It all sounded like Earl every time.”

And hearing Scruggs’s sound that day at Camp Springs, not through a mic, not on a record, but right there next to him on stage, made Munde think the whole exercise was somehow wrong.

“When he did that pinch, I thought, ‘Oh, God, I don’t want to be a part of this.’ What we should have done is just stood back and listened to him, and then said, ‘Do it again.’”

Despite his misgivings at the time, Munde has wound up glad that he took part in the Earl-fest that day.

“Looking back on it, it’s been nothing but good for me, that I got to be there,” he said. “Here it is, 50 years later, people still bring it up. It’s helped get me a little legacy recognition, that I was there, so that’s been real good.”

A Star-Studded Lineup

The career of Sonny Osborne has been well documented, but Bluegrass Country Soul makes clear his admiration and friendship with Scruggs. During the tumult of applause following his introduction, Scruggs asked if he could say something, and Osborne appears to grin and say, “Not yet.” And Osborne cracks up when Scruggs uses his up-the-neck solo from “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the last time around for the tune.

Bill Emerson, whose long career included membership in the Country Gentlemen and much more, was interviewed at the time of the re-release of Bluegrass Country Soul. He talked about the pantheon of great banjo players.

“Don Reno, he had his style on the banjo; Earl Scruggs, he had his style on the banjo; Ralph Stanley, he had a style on the banjo,” Emerson said in the set’s booklet. “And on the radio, I could listen to any of them, just the first few notes of an intro, and tell you who was playing. Just by the style that they were playing, the tone that they had, and the timbre. Most people, when they started out playing the banjo back then, they got a bunch of Earl Scruggs’s records and sat down and tried to learn to play like Earl. But it’s mighty hard to sound like Earl, I can tell you. I was never able to do that, so I just tried to sound like Bill Emerson.”

 

Bill Emerson takes his turn playing a solo on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Also on the show was multi-instrumentalist Jimmy Arnold (1952-1992), whose career was one of a kind, including excursions into Southern rock and solo albums on guitar and banjo as well as stints with Cliff Waldron, Charlie Moore, and the New Tradition, according to a 1983 Bluegrass Unlimited story. The article, by Chris Wathen, quoted Arnold on Scruggs: “When you learn all of what you think is hard stuff and then go back and try to play one of his tunes, you find out what the hard stuff really is. It’s his stuff. To play with that much power and volume, you’ve really got to be on top of things.”

Another of the clip’s well-known pickers, Don Stover (1928-1996), had been an early convert to Scruggs style, learning it not long after Scruggs’s first performances with Monroe, according to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame.

Stover was known for his work with brothers Bea and Everett Lilly during many years of performances in Boston. He played and recorded as a member of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys in 1957, even contributing harmony vocals to “In Despair.”

Earl’s son Randy, who appears playing an archtop banjo just before the end of the clip, went on to a distinguished career as a musician, songwriter, and producer.

Doing Their Times

The 55th anniversary of this notable moment in bluegrass will arrive in September. Looking back, the picking ranges from respectable to spectacular, but doesn’t maintain the dead-even tempo that’s supposed to prevail in bluegrass music. Fans remember the story that Earl and brother Horace Scruggs, as boys, used to start playing a tune, then separate to walk around their Flint Hill house in opposite directions. The idea was to check if they were still in time with each other after being out of earshot.

The dozen players on the Camp Springs group number would not have passed this test, based on a stopwatch run-through. While Scruggs’s December 1949 original recording had consistent solos of right at 11 seconds, he started the round robin at about 12.69 seconds and tempos wavered from there.

By the start of Riman’s melodic solo, near the end, the time was more than half a second slower. Randy and Earl Scruggs wrapped things up at roughly the same tempo.

But that’s just a quibble.

 

A contemporary of Earl Scruggs, Don Stover also performed a rendition of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the jam. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Remembering Earl

Bluegrass Country Soul director Albert Ihde did bluegrass lovers a real service by capturing these moments and others at the Camp Springs festival. And promoter Haney had another brainstorm resembling the story, pronounced “stoah-ry,” that he recreated of Bill Monroe and former band members six years earlier at Fincastle, Virginia.

Viewers will keep calling up the video for its closeups of Earl, smiling and even bobbing up and down for his breaks, and for the scenes of several of his outstanding followers, appreciating their moments on stage as they rolled their way through “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

Many videos of Flatt & Scruggs can be found on the web that illustrate Earl Scruggs’s unmatched musicianship. In the Bluegrass Country Soul segment viewers can also see a strong memorial to Earl Eugene Scruggs the person, his warmth, humor, and unselfishness as well as his brilliance as a musician.

Thomas Goldsmith is an award-winning journalist based in Tennessee and North Carolina. In addition to producing many hundreds of articles for newspapers and magazines, he edited The Bluegrass Reader and authored Earl Scruggs and Foggy Mountain Breakdown: The Making of an American Classic, both books for the University of Illinois Press.

Learn more about Bluegrass Country Soul and purchase a Golden Anniversary Legacy Edition box set of the film here. Read more about the box set and the making of the film here.

All photos courtesy of Albert Ihde, Ellen Pasternack, and Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc. Lead image: Earl Scruggs (left) and son, Randy Scruggs (right), perform “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” flanked by bluegrass banjo stars of 1971.

Doc Watson & Earl Scruggs’ Friendship in Photographs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s no secret that Earl Scruggs and Doc Watson were great friends, collaborators, and mutual admirers. Both of the bluegrass, old-time, and mountain-music stylists took inspiration and borrowed heavily from the other across their careers, whether they were making music together or separately in any of their many endeavors. The moments they came together, though – from The Three Pickers album and concert film, to David Hoffman’s iconic backyard jam session film of the Scruggs and Watson clans picking together, to many more appearances and recordings – were always magical. Two legendary stylists bouncing musical ideas off of each other as only these two could.

In honor of our Doc in December series for Artist of the Month, we’ve partnered with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center in Shelby, North Carolina, to bring you an exclusive look inside their collection and archives at photos of Scruggs and Watson together. The Center’s executive director, Mary Beth Martin, pulled a selection of historic photos from the collection as well as a handwritten quote directly from Scruggs’ notes about Watson and his influence:

“There are two people’s sound no man can, in my estimation, duplicate,” Earl states in a notebook. “Of course I’m referring to Mama Maybelle and Doc Watson. I’ve had the pleasure to work [with] and visit these people. I will never cease to admire the courage of these people.”

You can certainly hear the impact and influence of Watson and Maybelle Carter on Scruggs’ playing, especially his approach to acoustic guitar, when he would most often fingerpick the six-string.

“Earl had enormous respect for Doc and admired him deeply,” says Martin of the Earl Scruggs Center via email. “Both grew up in humble North Carolina homes surrounded by rich musical traditions and went on to leave an incredible mark on music. Having Earl’s personal memories and photos of Doc in our collection makes their connection feel especially meaningful.”

Over the course of their careers in roots music, Scruggs and Watson performed, collaborated, and recorded together dozens and dozens of times. We’re very proud to be able to share these photographs from the Earl Scruggs Center Collection to celebrate the cross-pollination of these two Bluegrass Hall of Famers and Doc in December.

The Earl Scruggs Center is located in downtown Shelby, North Carolina, and celebrates the life, legacy, and groundbreaking sound of Earl Scruggs. Their collection includes many treasured Scruggs family objects and remarkable pieces from Earl’s career – including more than 2,000 photographs. In January, they’ll install new interactive exhibits that dig deep into the roots of the region’s music and the history of bluegrass. The entire ESC team is excited to welcome everyone back to the museum when they reopen on February 3, 2026, after renovations and completion of the new exhibits.

Beyond the museum, the Earl Scruggs Center team are also restoring the Earl Scruggs Homeplace in the Flint Hill community of Cleveland County, bringing Earl’s childhood home back to the formative era that shaped him as a musician.

To stay in the loop and to catch upcoming Earl Scruggs Center events like the Earl Experience Banjo Camp, visit their website and connect with them on socials. We hope you enjoy our special photo story with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center celebrating Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Doc in December.

All photos courtesy of the Earl Scruggs Center Collection. Lead image: Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Ricky Skaggs backstage at the taping for The Three Pickers.

BGS 5+5: Catherine “BB” Bowness

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: BB Bowness
Hometown: Somerville, Massachusetts
Latest Album: Goodtime Revival (released November 1, 2025)
Personal Nickname (or rejected band names): BB (short for Catherine)

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

It’s tough to choose just one person, but I’d have to say Béla Fleck. He has expanded what’s possible on the banjo for all of us banjo nerds. Hearing him play classical, jazz, bluegrass and so many other styles, all with stunning fluency, is such an inspiration to me. And his tune writing is masterful, tunes like “Sunset Road,” “The Overgrown Waltz,” and “Big Country” feel so beautiful and singable to me. It’s really hard to write tunes that come anywhere close to that level of completeness.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I’ve always been drawn to music, since growing up in a traveling New Zealand craft market. There was a stage manager in the fair, Ralph Bennett-Eades, who played guitar and sang really great. His boys played guitar and drums so I always saw the cool, older kids playing music. Then after learning banjo for a few years, I headed to the states for the first time and got to attend some festivals and camps including Telluride and Rockygrass in Colorado. Seeing the amazing musicians perform on stage at those festivals made me really want to try music for a living. Fifteen-year-old me thought, “Wow, people do this for a job?!” Turns out it’s not that easy to get those jobs, but it’s been an incredible journey so far.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

The great Tony Trischka once told me it’s great if you can learn to sing. I’ve thought back on that comment frequently through the years, being primarily an instrumentalist. But it really rings true! Being able to sing in a band and contribute to the show as a vocalist by singing harmonies is a big plus. It’s also so great in general for your musicianship to learn to sing so that your ears are more connected to your hands. Having a decent ear is a must for singers and I’ve found it very helpful for my banjo playing to work on developing my ear.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I’ve always fantasized running a New Zealand coffee shop that sells baked goods. It’s got to be a waterfront cafe so that I can wake up early, go for a surf, and then make coffee and baked goods for people.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

I love the days where you’re not sitting in a van for 10 hours. Any day where the drive is short and you get to play music with your friends for people who’re listening is a very good day! Throw in some vegetables with dinner and a little private spot to practice some before the show and I’m positively delighted.

Photo Credit: Louise Bichan

LISTEN: Michael Daves, “Can’t Get There From Here” (R.E.M. Cover)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Michael Daves
Hometown: Atlanta, Georgia (originally); New York, New York and Adams, Massachusetts (currently)
Song: Can’t Get There From Here
Album: Fables (EP)
Release Date: December 19, 2025
Label: Wild Geranium Records

In Their Words: “As a Georgia boy growing up in 1980s, R.E.M. was my first musical obsession and I still love those early albums. The dream logic, the obscure references to Southern culture, the addictive hooks, the ghostly background vocals. I thought it would be interesting to adapt one of them to bluegrass and it happens that Fables of the Reconstruction is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. It’s an arty rock album, but there’s a lot of droney stuff in there that sounds like it came from mountain dulcimer, banjo, and mandolin. The quartet I lead with Hargreaves, Jolliff, and Alvar has proven very adept at interpreting music from non-bluegrass sources and though they had no prior knowledge of this music, they were open to it and knocked it out of the park.” – Michael Daves

Track Credits:
Michael Daves – Guitar, vocals
Alex Hargreaves – Fiddle
Jacob Jolliff – Mandolin
Erik Alvar – Bass
Duncan Wickel – Cello
Sean Cahill – Background vocals
Jefferson Hamer – Background vocals

Video Credit: Jason Zucker

Photo Credit: Manish Gosalia

From TikTok to
Everything I Wanted

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Evan Honer opens his new album, Everything I Wanted, with a charge of electric guitar – an unexpected twist for a singer-songwriter who has mostly recorded with a stripped-back sound. And after commanding attention with that blast of energy, Honer carries the listener through a range of emotions familiar to any twentysomething (and beyond). There are breakup songs, of course, but also entanglements with loneliness, self-doubt, and even the relationships that seem to be going well.

Recorded in Honer’s garage studio just outside of Nashville, Everything I Wanted documents a creative moment where sonic exploration may be the biggest priority. However, the fans who discovered Honer in 2022 through a TikTok cover of Tyler Childers’ “Jersey Giant” will likely embrace the songwriting on the new album, with lyrics that reflect a day in the life of someone who’s still figuring things out.

Honer was raised in Surprise, Arizona and excelled in competitive diving at California Baptist College in Riverside. Although a spot on the U.S. Olympic team was within reach, Honer turned instead to a career in music and established his own label, Cloverdale Records. From his home office, Honer called into Good Country to talk about his new album, his relationship with fans, and the road ahead.

I listened to your catalog, and this album seems more electrified than your previous work. Why it was important for you to show another side of your musical approach?

Evan Honer: I felt like the first two albums were… I guess it was what I was into and the production that I was a fan of at the time. I was so new to everything, too. I just thought, “I’m gonna record the guitar, then maybe we’ll have drums.” But I hardly had any drums at all with my first two albums. I guess I just didn’t know the possibilities. And the more I grew as an artist, and thankfully, with the resources that I have, the more things I can do. If I want this exact sound, I know I can do it and I can do it in my garage. My taste has changed. I grew as an artist, and I realized, why not? I can do whatever I want literally.

Are you pretty consistent with your writing routine?

Yeah, most of the time I’m working on something. And it could be one line the whole day, but I sat there for three hours. That’s very common. Now I’m writing with other people more – with artists that I am inspired by. And when I’m back home, it takes a long time. Sometimes it’s sitting with my guitar for hours, and I don’t get anything except a couple words. Or I go backwards and I change everything, then I don’t even have lyrics anymore. I try to do some type of writing every day, but on the road it’s a lot more difficult.

The song “Curtain” captures your relationship with your fans. What does that relationship between artists and audience look like for you personally?

It’s such a difficult thing for me. Recently I’ve been able to enjoy a tour more and not be so affected by it emotionally. On my first tour, I was so not used to how you’re running on no sleep at all and you’re around the same people for a month. You have a bad show, and it feels like your life is over. That is sort of what I wrote [“Curtain”] about, just the ups and downs of being on tour.

I still am upset after a bad show and I don’t know if I ever will not be. In my opinion, a bad show could be, like, one person talking for one song. It was tough for me to realize – and it still is tough for me to realize – that I have such a different perspective on it. There’s my perspective, and their perspective. I felt like I needed to write that song where it’s like, “I’m looking out at you, and I’m just grateful that you guys bothered showing up to hear me scream about my problems.”

And it really helps me, now that I let it. They’re constantly telling me, “Oh, your music means the world to me,” and that is the greatest thing to hear. But them being there is like the whole reason and it means so much to me. That relationship is not one-sided at all. It’s completely: “I need you as much as you need me.”

Listening to “Not There Yet,” I can remember that phase in relationships where it’s like, everybody wants me to be all in, except I’m not sure myself if I’m ready. When you finish a song like that, who is the first person that gets to hear it?

Most of the time, my best friend Blake Abernathy. He was a big reason why I started doing music. When I graduated high school, I went to go sell AT&T Internet and DIRECTV. I moved out to Minnesota with Blake and that’s where we became best friends. We worked together and he shared his music tastes. Tyler Childers was the first person he showed me and I’d never had felt that feeling before, from hearing a true songwriter, someone that makes me feel something.

And from that point, I went down a rabbit hole with my favorite songwriters, like Benjamin Tod, James Taylor, Jim Croce, and so many that I can’t even think of. And that’s how I started and fell in love with writing. From then on, I sent every single song to Blake and he always shoots me straight. He’s always such a big supporter in anything I’m doing, and he always gets it. He’ll tell me, “This is very different, I’m not sure if I like it yet,” or stuff like that.

For the record, can you explain how the “Jersey Giant” video took off?

The first song I ever posted on TikTok was the first song I released, called “How Could I Ever.” I had a good reaction to it and that was literally one of the only songs I had finished. At that point I was like, “Holy crap, I have to write another song because I don’t have any.” Maybe four months later, I was like, “All right, I got a new one.” So, I released “Comfort the Fall” and then “Foolin’ Ourselves,” and maybe a couple other ones, I’m not sure.

Then I released “Jersey Giant” as a cover and it went crazy. Then a bunch of label people were in my email! That was so funny. “Jersey Giant” was a big moment, for sure, but I think the songs that made people come to the shows were from my first and second album, rather than “Jersey Giant.”

@evanhonermusic Don’t know how to play the banjo but i do love this song #dialdrunk #noahkahan #cover ♬ original sound – Evan Honer

I saw you playing banjo and singing a Noah Kahan song, “Dial Drunk,” on a TikTok video. When do you find yourself reaching for the banjo? Is there a certain mood where you think, “Banjo is going to make this better”?

Yeah, there’s a good amount of banjo that I played on this album. I don’t know, I just love the banjo. It’s always so interesting to me to have a song like “Long Road.” It’s not super country. And then you throw in a very country instrument, like a banjo. I love having really country instruments in songs that are not country and have very different melodies than what a traditional country song would normally have. It’s always fun to just throw in a banjo, whenever it feels like it needs it. Maybe I overdo it sometimes. [Laughs]

Do you remember when you first reached for the banjo, or what led you to it?

My grandma actually got me that banjo. I just wanted a new and different instrument to write on, to create new ideas. I think that’s always helpful with piano and banjo. Just writing on a different instrument to hopefully get a different outcome, because sometimes I’m writing on the guitar and it feels like “I’ve written this song already” and I don’t feel excited about it. Now I’m trying to explore every option to write a song, even if it’s writing and producing at the same time.

That’s a scary thing to me. It’s like, we’re writing this song as we’re making it. Normally you have a whole song, or at least how I do it, and you produce it out, and the creative part is producing it. But it’s kind of scary when you don’t have the lyrics. You don’t even know what the chorus is going to be, but you’re already starting to produce it.

Is that because you’re on deadline or just trying to stretch your boundaries? What leads you to a situation like that?

There’s no deadline at all. [Laughs] I’m a fully independent artist, so it’s all up to me when I want to release stuff. I think that’s why I feel like I’ve released a lot more than maybe somebody that kind of started the same time. Three albums in, it’s just me trying to make something different.

I read you released an album the day you graduated from college. Was that like a mission statement? Like, “I’m gonna do this. I’m a musician from this day forward”?

Yeah, pretty much. It’s called West on I-10, because I would go west on I-10 driving back from home to college. Funny enough, the navigational voice would always pop up in my voice memos with, like, “I-10 West.” I had already decided that I was going to do music full-time. I was a diver in college and I originally made plans with my coach to do my fifth year and go for the Olympic trials. That was tough, making that big change. First, my dad was very much like, “Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” But now he’s the biggest supporter ever. There was just a lot of uncertainty and releasing that album on the day I graduated just felt like the most normal thing for me. All those songs I’d written in college are now on that album, and I felt like then I can move on to whatever else.

What goes through your mind now when you hear this new album in its entirety?

This is always tough for me. In January when I recorded it, listening through the album, I’m, like, incredibly stoked on it. And I still am, but it’s a different type of stoked now. I’m stoked that it’s out and I don’t have to sit on these songs anymore. I can move on to what I’m liking now. Because right now, my taste has already changed, where I’m into different production styles, I’m into different, really weird lyrics, or whatever it is. I’m in a different spot now.

That’s always an interesting thing to see how delayed the music industry is. Even if I’m independent, it still takes time to do all these things. So that’s always a hard thing for me, but I’m so happy that it’s out, and I’m so happy that we recorded that way, just 18 straight days of recording. That helps with the cohesiveness of it. I’m really proud of it, and I’m really proud that it’s my third album, and I’m excited to make something else.

Photo Credit: Harrison Hargrave

311’s Nick Hexum Trades Hard Rock for Bluegrass and Country

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Normally, when singer-guitarist Nick Hexum plays a gig, it’s fronting legendary hard rock band 311, performing for massive audiences in huge venues around the globe. But, on a recent evening in Knoxville, Tennessee, he was backed by Americana/bluegrass act Water Tower in front of a small crowd at the Open Chord, a cozy space on the west side of the city along Kingston Pike.

“I’ve always been drawn to music that has energy, and there’s so much energy in flatpicking, the banjo, the tremolo picking of the mandolin,” Hexum tells BGS backstage. “This stuff has rock and roll energy that predates rock and roll.”

For Hexum, this deep dive into bluegrass, country, and Americana of late has become something of an intrinsic mission from within. It’s the current soundtrack of a 55-year-old rock star carefully aiming to dig up and examine the melodic roots of his past – these existential anchor points needed to move forward.

“This whole experience is just bringing it really full circle, like a home,” Hexum says. “My mom is from Nashville, so this is me getting in touch with [memories of] when we used to go to visit my great aunt Margaret in Gatlinburg and she’d play the autoharp.”

Retracing old routes, both geographically and sonically, was no more apparent for Hexum than when he and Water Tower appeared at Americanafest in Nashville. The stop in Music City was part of a larger tour throughout the Southeast in an attempt for Hexum to not only reconnect with his past, but also create an opportunity to break new ground for his craft – especially outside of the hard rock juggernaut that is 311.

“I’m just grateful that fans are showing up and are open to seeing me do something completely different,” he says.

During the intimate set in Knoxville, Hexum and Water Tower crowded around a single microphone, weaving in, out, and around each other in a whirlwind of acoustic instruments and Hexum’s signature vocals. The show ran a gamut of material, whether it be classic 311 numbers or selections from Hexum’s latest solo record, Phases of Hope and Hollow.

“The intimacy [of the show], it’s wonderful to be so up close. It’s totally different [for me] from a technical situation – it takes silence,” Hexum reflects.

This project is the brainchild of Hexum and Water Tower’s Kenny Feinstein. Water Tower is a rising ensemble from Los Angeles, one which initially started as an old-time/punk group, only to lean further into becoming a high-energy string band. They raised more than a few eyebrows when they performed at the recent Telluride Bluegrass Festival in Colorado.

“We’re walking into another side of Nick,” Feinstein says. “311 is all about bringing people together through unity and different styles of music, so this is another slice of Nick’s personality.”

For Feinstein, working with Hexum has been this surreal experience, personally and professionally. As a millennial growing up in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Feinstein was a huge 311 fan, so much so he vividly remembers their video for the smash hit “Amber” and seeing 311 guitarist Tim Mahoney sporting a mohawk haircut.

“My friend and I saw the video and [decided] we needed mohawks,” Feinstein reminisces with a laugh. “So, all three of us went to a party [that night] and got our heads shaved into a mohawk.”

This latest musical chapter for Hexum and Water Tower happened serendipitously through the sober community both Hexum and Feinstein are part of in Los Angeles. Leading up to their crossing paths, Hexum had been heading down the rabbit hole of an Apple Music playlist that featured singer-songwriter Faye Webster. His ear perked up.

“I really like her songs, the pedal steel [sound], and the beautiful arrangements,” Hexum says of Webster. “And then, I reached out to Drew Vandenberg, who produces her music. We started talking about working together and one of the things I wanted to do was learn some of those instruments. So, I bought a pedal steel and took some lessons.”

Making space in his studio for the pedal steel, Hexum wanted to add a few more instruments into his creative arsenal, including the mandolin. Cue Feinstein. Meeting him through the sober community, Hexum asked Feinstein if he would teach him how to play the mandolin.

“I had [Kenny] over and I was like, ‘Let’s do something that sounds like [Faye Webster],’” Hexum says. “And he was just a cornucopia of ideas.”

At that juncture in his career, Hexum “mostly had played six-string guitar,” with these other instruments “a new world” for the artist. And yet, even though he was just learning how to play them, he was already well-versed in the sounds of bluegrass and country.

“Nick saw a dulcimer on my wall and I was really impressed that he knew what that was,” Feinstein recalls. “He told me about his heritage and [growing up] in Omaha and how he loved country and bluegrass. Then I said, ‘We should jam sometime.’”

That initial jam session between Hexum and Feinstein resulted in the duo writing five songs right out of the gate. Soon, Feinstein brought in Water Tower banjoist Tommy Drinkard and wrote several more.

“And now we’re on tour. It’s so special to see the humility that [Nick] carries, the gratitude and appreciation for all of his fans after so many years of doing it,” Feinstein says. “It just inspires us to have gratitude for where we’re at now, and to know the journey we’re on is about continuing to lessen the suffering [of others through music].”

“There’s so many people out there in the crowd crying, really taking it in,” Drinkard adds. “These are very intense subjects and Nick does a good job of explaining where he’s coming from with the songs he’s writing.”

For Hexum, this recent journey into the bluegrass realm has become this incredibly cathartic experience. He found himself not only dissecting his past and that of his parents, but also that of his ancestors going back generations.

“My mom is from Tennessee and my grandpa was a Southern Baptist minister,” Hexum notes. “Half of my family does have these southern roots, so when I hear bluegrass, it just feels like part of my DNA.”

Beyond the new music itself, Hexum views this ever-evolving project as part of his ongoing quest to find himself through this vibrant kaleidoscope of sound and purpose. It’s about stripping everything down, focusing on the essence of a particular melody, and always being aware of the beauty of the sacred platform that is live performance. Turn off the amps, pick up the acoustic guitar and huddle around a lone microphone, together.

“It has gotten to a point where I’m like, ‘All right, time is limited here, and I want to make the most of the time that I have now,’” Hexum says humbly. “I mean, when you see your kids get older and get their driver’s license and stuff like that, you just feel this passing of an era. And so, for me, it’s getting into a different mode of songwriting – really focusing on sincerity and simplicity.”

Photo Credit: Gentle Giant Digital

BGS 5+5: Frank Evans

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Frank Evans
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Latest Album: Debut album is in the works

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

It’s always difficult to narrow that question down to one artist, but if it has to be one, I would say Alan O’Bryant of the Nashville Bluegrass Band. His ability to sing and play banjo at the same time, with so much dynamic intensity, still gives me chills whenever I hear it. When I was just starting out on the banjo, my teacher, Chris Coole, gave me a compilation CD of all these different banjo styles. “When I Get Where I’m Goin'” was on there and I must have listened to it on repeat ten thousand times. That band has really influenced how I arrange songs for a full bluegrass outfit. It was a huge honor to have Alan come into the studio to produce The Slocan Ramblers’ latest album. He was such a joy to work with.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

All the guys in The Slocan Ramblers used to joke that if you’re a banjo player, you’re never safe from another banjo player appearing out of nowhere and asking you a very specific question about your instrument. I guarantee I’ve been that person.

A funny example of that happened back in 2015 when we were at MerleFest. They’d asked a few bands to do some early-morning TV interviews to help promote the festival. It was 5 a.m. and the gates were all closed. We had just gone live with the first interview when a guy popped out from behind a bush about 50 yards away and shouted, “Is that a Presto tailpiece on your Style 11?” How he knew what kind of banjo I was playing from that far away, I have no idea – but it was almost impossible to keep my composure after that.

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

I’ve always been a fan of graphic novels and comic art. Growing up in Toronto, I was lucky to be surrounded by a healthy community of artists and great comic shops – especially my favorite, The Beguiling. Chester Brown, Harvey Pekar, and R. Crumb have always been some of my favorite artists.

Back in eighth grade, we had a year-long culminating project that could be on any topic and I decided to write a graphic novel about Edden Hammons, the old-time fiddler from West Virginia. It was a lot of fun and a ton of work, but I got to sell a few copies at The Beguiling, which was pretty cool. The last time this hobby came up was when The Slocan Ramblers asked me to come up with a cover for their Queen City Jubilee album. It’s a little out there, but I like how it turned out.

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

Being born in Ontario — the birthplace of the Hawaiian pizza — I firmly believe that pineapple belongs on pizza. It actually took me a long time to come around to it, but a fresh Hawaiian slice from the right place is hard to beat. One of my favourites was a little spot called 2 for 1 Pizza in Kensington Market, Toronto. They’d pull a regular-sized slice from the oven, cut it in half, and hand you “two for one.”

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

I’ve really enjoyed the days I’ve spent in the studio since moving to Nashville. I feel very lucky to have been invited to be part of a number of projects here, ranging from experimental old-time records to working on the soundtrack for King of the Hill. If you’ve ever been unsure about what to practice, spending a day in the studio among amazing musicians will fix that. Recording has a way of putting everything under a microscope, which can sometimes feel crippling, but it’s also extremely rewarding when you notice tangible improvement from the last session.

I’ve also started working on my own solo record, which has been both rewarding and humbling. I plan to start releasing some of the tracks next year.

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi