Traditionally Speaking: Shawn Camp in Conversation with Trey Hensley

“We’re probably just blocks from each other in Nashville,” Shawn Camp tells Trey Hensley once they’ve both joined the conference call line. We can hear the faint sounds of Camp going about his morning routine, rustling around in a kitchen cabinet, and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Hensley gently corrects the assumption: “I’m actually out in L.A. today. We’re playing tonight at a festival. So I’m just getting around this morning, too.”

Even from halfway across the country, the two pickers, singers, and songwriters share close proximity in their musical backgrounds. Camp, the older and more decorated of the two, and Hensley, the promising 20-something, were youthful devotees of some of the same old country and bluegrass records, and their listening provoked the same response: the urge to pick up an instrument and learn the stuff. Having a firm yet flexible grasp on tradition readied them for the variety of musical situations they've found themselves in since — including Camp's Flatt & Scruggs-conjuring supergroup the Earls of Leicester and Hensley's wide-ranging roots duo with dobro master Rob Ickes, both of which have recorded new albums.

On the phone, it takes no time at all for Hensley and Camp to start trading mutual admiration with the modesty of a couple of small-town Southern boys.

You each currently count one of the world’s leading dobro players as a band mate. I’m, of course, talking about Jerry Douglas in the Earls of Leicester and Trey’s duo partner, Rob Ickes. And those two guys have even made all-dobro albums together. Is this is first time your paths have really crossed?

Shawn Camp: I met you at the Station Inn, Trey. Rob sent out an invitation when you guys played over there for the first time, and that’s the first time I ever heard you. Evidently, you’ve been around a lot longer than that. You’re really a talent. Man, I was blown away by your pickin’ and your singin’.

Trey Hensley: Aw, shoot. I sure appreciate it. I remember the night meeting you out there. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time.

SC: Are you on tour out there with Rob?

TH: Yeah, we’re playing a few gigs out here in California this weekend.

SC: Well, hey I wanted to ask you, did you write “My Way Is the Highway”?

TH: Yeah, I sure did.

SC: Good song, man.

TH: Thanks. I appreciate that very much. I’ve not written a whole lot, but I’m trying.

SC: Did you write it by yourself?

TH: Yeah, I sure did. I wrote it several years ago and just kind of threw it out there to Rob one day.

When you were both young and green, you got a taste of what it was like to be welcomed into the lineage of bluegrass tradition by first generation bluegrassers. Trey, you were just a kid when Marty Stuart brought you on the Opry to do a Flatt & Scruggs number, and Earl Scruggs showed up . There’s YouTube evidence of that. And Shawn, you originally came to Nashville for a sideman gig with the Osborne Brothers. I was unable to find YouTube evidence of you playing with them, but I don’t doubt that it’s true.

SC: There’s probably some evidence out there floatin’ around. We played on a Hee Haw episode, and I think we did a few little TV shows when I was with ‘em. I was only with ‘em about six months. I was just a green cushion fiddler between Blaine Sprouse and Glen Duncan, who they wanted when they hired me, I think. I was 20 years old when I moved to town from Arkansas. They heard me out on the road. I was working with a band called Signal Mountain, a bluegrass band out of McAlester, Oklahoma. They saw me playing and wanted me to join them for a while. So that’s how I kinda got my foot in the door in Nashville.

What did receiving that little bit of approval from first-gen legends do for you?

SC: It was an amazing little trip. I’d been growing up listening to their Decca records from the early ‘60s that my dad had. They were of the caliber of Merle Haggard or somebody, at the time. In my mind, they were at that level. So, for just a green kid dropped in the middle of ‘em, all the sudden I’m in overdrive and we’re flying down the interstate. It was exciting for me.

Since you brought up Merle Haggard … Trey, when you were a kid playing around East Tennessee, you went from playing bluegrass to playing Haggard songs with string band instrumentation to plugging in your Tele. You kept shifting in style and material. What did you learn about blending different strains of tradition?

TH: Everything that I was doing was reflective of what I was listening to. The first records I took my own money and bought were Flatt & Scruggs at Carnegie Hall! and Flatt & Scruggs did the Songs of the Famous Carter Family. For the first probably four or five years that I played music, that was mainly what I did — traditional bluegrass music. And yeah, I had the opportunity to play with Marty and Earl and do a song off of the Carter Family album on the Opry not long after I got started. I drew influence from Flatt & Scruggs at the end [of their partnership], which was not one of their most popular eras. They were doing Dylan stuff and everything else. So there was always the influence of kind of breaking out [of the traditional mold].

But there are these definitive moments, like a Merle Haggard record — I kinda knew that that’s what I wanted to do, at that point. So I started doing more country stuff. And then I got the Buck Owens record Carnegie Hall Concert and, that first guitar solo on “Act Naturally,” as soon as I heard that, I went out and bought a Tele and started working on that. When I was playing around where I grew up, a lot of people had grown accustomed to hearing a bluegrass band. It was never like I was doing anything totally different, but going from acoustic to electric did kinda jar a few people’s musical taste. I guess 2008, that’s when I started playing more electric stuff and opened up for Charlie Daniels. I liked doing electric stuff, but I like doing the acoustic stuff maybe a little more.

Shawn, you were talking about your earliest years in Nashville. You’ve ranged far and wide since then in your songwriting and performing careers, from a rockabilly bluegrass duo to the roots supergroup World Famous Headliners and the Earls of Leicester. What was appealing to you about the idea of reviving the Flatt & Scruggs repertoire with this band?

SC: It just had always been in my soul, really. I listened to [Flatt & Scruggs] Live at Carnegie Hall!, too, and had several other Flatt & Scruggs records when I was a kid. I grew up with bluegrass. I just loved Flatt & Scruggs, and it just seemed like it would be a fit. Jerry Douglas called me, and he’d been doing some stuff with Johnny Warren and Charlie Cushman, making banjo and fiddle records with them. He said they were doing a Flatt & Scruggs band and wanted to know if I wanted to be Lester. And I said [goes into his lazily drawling Lester Flatt imitation], “Well, ah, absolutely.”

[Laughter]

SC: So I did. I jumped in there. It’s been fun.

You have a distinct vocal sound. People can easily recognize Shawn Camp’s voice. So what does it require of you to play Lester Flatt?

SC: I just to try to bend the notes the way he did. It kinda adds to the sound. The whole band kinda works off of that tension of those notes being bent. I try to get the phrasing as close to the way that Lester did as possible, but I’m never gonna sound exactly like him. I’d love to, for this show, but it’s never gonna happen. But everybody’s trying their best to fill the shoes of the man that was in the Foggy Mountain Boys, so if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t be doing my part, I don’t think.

I’ve seen you perform in a lot of different kinds of contexts, but I don’t think I’d ever seen you more dressed up than when I caught an Earls show at the Ryman. Was that part of it a hard sell for you? Why is the look essential to doing this stuff?

SC: Actually, I’m probably the one that kept at everybody, saying, “You know, if we’re gonna do this, we’ve gotta look the part.” You can’t do it without the ties. You can’t do it without, at least, the suit. Flatt & Scruggs wore suit jackets. It looked like a good uniform. There was just a little bit of legitimacy to ‘em, you know?

About 25 years ago, I bought an old string tie — a Colonel Sanders tie — at a junk store, still in the package. It had rhinestones on it. When I bought it, I thought, “Man, one of these days, maybe I’ll be in a band that I can actually wear this old thing.” So last year at IBMA, when we were up for several awards, I took that thing out of the package for the first time.

Trey, in your duo with Rob, there’s no set stage wear, although I did notice that the cover of your first album depicted you in a rootsy, rural scene, both of you leaning up against a rusty old truck.

TH: [Chuckles] Yeah, it kinda varies. But I love what you guys are doing, Shawn, from the look on down. It’s awesome.

SC: Well thank you, man. It’s easy to do it when everybody’s playing the part. If one spoke fell out of the wheel, we’d be in trouble.

Trey, you’d been a solo front man leading your own band for years. For just the past couple of years, you’ve been paired with a world-renowned musician. I imagine that, on some of the first tour dates you played with Rob, he was the draw and you were the unknown quantity. Is that pretty much what it felt like?

TH: Oh yeah, absolutely. My wife and I had talked about moving to Nashville for a few years. She was looking at some jobs in Nashville. Right after I’d recorded on the Blue Highway album, I had this conversation with Rob. … Rob called me up and was very nice, complimenting what I was doing and said if I ever wanted to move to Nashville and pick some, that would be great. So that just kinda gave me enough courage. It’s still cool to go to the gigs. There’s people there that know Rob, and it’s nice to play in front of fresh ears.

Shawn, you’ve been most consistently recognized for your songwriting, since you’ve had such success in that arena. What does a celebrated songwriter bring to material that’s much older than him, to songs like “The Train That Carried My Girl from Town,” “Just Ain’t,” and “I’m Working on a Road”?

SC: All I know is, it’s a nice thing to do, for me, as far as I don’t feel the pressure of doing my material. I think the ego kind of disappears, to a degree, within the band. It’s like everybody’s just trying to do something somebody else did the best that they can do. It’s just more fun. It takes a little bit of the alpha dog pressure off of your shoulders. You don’t have to lead the pack so much as just try to be a part of the thing.

A lot of times, when everything’s hinging on the words that you’ve come up with, the show is all leaning on that. You kinda feel like you’re an old rooster on a chopping block: You’re about to get it. You never know if it’s gonna work or not, so you’re kind of vulnerable.

These songs, this material, it’s been tried and true, and you can feel the power of those old songs. It’s a departure from the same old, same old that I’ve had to do here in Nashville. But I’m not done doing that. I want to come back to it and make a regular record soon.

Trey, you and Rob aren’t performing an established canon. You’re casting a fairly broad net with the material you’re assembling alongside your originals. On The Country Blues, you cover Elton John, Ray Charles, and Sonny Boy Williamson along with Merle Haggard and Charlie Daniels. What appeals to you about reuniting these parallel, rooted traditions of country, blues, and R&B?

TH: Even though there’s a lot of different material on the record, I don’t really feel like any of it feels misplaced or anything. When we’re picking songs, even just for a jam session, it all kinda fits — and, if it doesn’t fit, we can recognize that pretty quick. That Elton John song is from Tumbleweed Connection, which has always been one of my favorite records. I kinda threw it out there one day when we were picking, and it pretty much fell into place the way we recorded it.

I’m a big fan of so many different kinds of music. And a lot of the songs, even though they’re by well-known people, it’s kind of important to go on the more obscure side of things. If we’re doing an Elton John song, we sure don’t want to cover “Rocket Man.” Well, there are a few exceptions. We did “Friend of the Devil,” the Grateful Dead song, which is pretty popular, but there’s a totally different spin on it.

SC: You guys sound like a band. I mean, just the two of y’all playing together, it sounds like a band. You guys are so tight. And Rob’s playing these harmony notes against you. It’s a really full sound. I wanna just tell you that. I know you know that, but I want you to know that I know that. You know what I mean?

TH: [Laughs] I sure appreciate that. That is very nice of you to say. This record’s primarily a band, but playing in this duo thing, it’s kinda fun to jump on the bass part or to be able to play something that sounds like a drum, just fill it up the best that we can.

The new album feels very contemporary and jammy, like you were experimenting with guitar tones and effects. Is that what the recording process was like?

TH: Yeah, that’s exactly how it was. We did three or four takes of each song and, for the most part, there would be a whole take that we’d use on the record, but there might be a guitar part from a different take thrown in. We all played something different each time, because there was really no written script. We went in with no charts, no anything — just four main guys, and we had a couple different fiddle players and Ron Block played banjo on a tune. I think that came across: that we were just playing music. Although we were working on an album, it didn’t come across like we were working on an album. We were just kinda having fun.

I think it could work at a jam band festival.

TH: I’m a big Grateful Dead fan. A lot of the jam stuff from my angle comes from that. It was just us kinda jamming on what we like.

Shawn, I’ve seen the Earls circle up around one mic to perform live, like the Foggy Mountain Boys did. How does your approach to recording compare to what they did? Are you using vintage gear and production techniques?

SC: We’re recording just about the same — exactly as they would’ve done it. We’re using old Neumann mics from the ‘40s. On this new album, we used an RCA 77, which once was Earl Scruggs’ banjo mic, that I bought last year. We’re using old, vintage equipment. We kinda cut in a line with the mics kinda set up the same as we work ‘em on stage. The guys on the outside of the line may have, at times, used headphones, but mostly we’re not using headphones. We wanna hear each other naturally around the mics. And there are no overdubs. We didn’t fix anything. So if you hear anything on that record, that’s just the way we played it. It’s not, like, Pro Tools edits and stuff like that going on.

Shawn, you’re a couple of decades further down the musical path than Trey is. Got any good advice for him? Or any bad advice?

SC: I really don’t know what to tell anybody these days. I know the music business has gotten really weird in Nashville. I know that nobody’s making much money. Somebody ran up to Roger Miller one time in an airport and said, “Hey, you got any advice for an up-and-coming songwriter in Nashville?” He said, “Yeah. Keep your change in one pocket and your pills in the other, because I just took my last 37 cents.”

[Laughter]

SC: That was probably good advice. I think Trey just needs to keep doing what he’s doing. You’re doing great, brother. I’m glad you’re doing it. I’d love to hear y’all over the radio every time I turn it on. You’ve got a great voice, reminiscent of Keith Whitley or somebody. I’d love to hear more of it. Love your songwriting, too. Just keep up the good work. That would be my advice.

TH: Man, I sure appreciate it. I’m looking forward to hearing y’all’s new record. The first one, it’s been in my truck since it came out. So I’ll have to head down to the store and pick up the new one, as soon as it comes out.

SC: Let me know when you’re ready to visit one of these days here in Nashville, and we’ll see if we can’t come up with a song together.


Illustration by Abby McMillenRob Ickes and Trey Hensley photo by Stacie Huckeba. The Earls of Leicester photo by Anthony Scarlati.

A Radical Spirit: A Conversation with Filmmaker Josh Fox

Any which way you slice it, the world is currently at a critical juncture. Environmentally, politically, socially, economically, and otherwise, the systems we have built have long been crumbling with people — and the planet — beginning to slip through the cracks. Documentary filmmaker Josh Fox has told one of those stories in great detail with his two heartbreaking (and infuriating) Gasland movies which focus on natural gas fracking and its dire, if not deadly, repercussions.

In his new film, How to Let Go of the World and Love All the Things Climate Can't Change, which premieres on HBO on June 27, Fox focuses his lens on the people who are coming together to fight against seemingly insurmountable odds in South America, Asia, Africa, the South Pacific, and elsewhere. The project lays it all out in gut-wrenchingly stark relief, while making sure to leave its audience with just enough hope to keep fighting the good fight … and dancing the good dance.

There are so many aspects to this film and the issues it presents that I want to discuss. Let's start with the fact that continuing to put short-term economic concerns ahead of long-term sustainability problems just doesn't work. And the presumptive nominations of Clinton and Trump feed right into that, don't they?

I don't want to talk about it morally … Well, I mean, you could. It's immoral. Hillary Clinton's policies are pro-fracking, all the day long. You quite simply can't be pro-fracking and be a climate change activist or even a person who is trying to address climate change. So the big issue is not, necessarily, morality … although there is a lot in that campaign that is immoral — voting for the Iraq War, supporting the crime bill that put millions of people in prison unjustly, and galavanting around with the fossil fuel industry at every possible turn. Hillary Clinton, in her State Department, there were conflicts of interest on Keystone XL pipeline. She went around the world selling fracking with the Global Shale Gas Initiative.

What concerns me, right now, is not that the American public has rejected that … Actually, the American public has rejected that. If you look at every primary that has an open primary — Independents plus Democrats — Bernie Sanders wins. What's happened is, these political parties have become country clubs that isolate themselves from reality. The problem is, right now, that the Democrats have pushed so many people out of the dialogue, that they're threatening to become a minority party.

Agreed.

But what's exciting to me is that this idea of non-violent political revolution and all the things that Bernie Sanders stands for have become the winning political argument in America, even if it means that they have to do all these shenanigans to exclude him from the process.

Yeah. Yeah. Even with all of that, and the people on the other side shouting “down with government,” it still feels like a lot of folks have the mindset that government or someone will swoop in, eventually, and solve it all for us?

Solve climate change?

Yeah. Like some technology is going to emerge.

There really isn't any solving climate change.

I know that, but …

There is only working on climate change in the same way that there's no solving the human condition — there's only working on it. We do have to radically change our energy systems. We have to radically change all our systems that are emitting a lot of CO2. That includes our food system, transportation system. We probably also have to radically alter our political system, because it's our political system that enables those industries to dump carbon dioxide emissions into the atmosphere.

But this film isn't about causes of climate change. It's about what we do as we react to climate change. Human beings can make climate change a lot worse or we can make our lives much better. Our current system, as Tim DeChristopher says in the movie, is based on greed and competition. To that, I would add violence and institutionalized racism and social inequality — the worst elements of our nature. If we want to get through the climate calamity that's coming, with any human dignity, we need to change our value system to more sustainable virtues — courage, resilience, community, human rights, love. These are the things we have to start to look to, so that's what the film focuses on. These are the things that climate can't change.

Right.

If you think about the old saw, “You can't control what happens to you; you can only control how you react to it,” that's part of this issue. We absolutely must control energy systems. I'm not preaching that we don't fight climate change. I'm saying we fight it harder than ever before based on current information about where we are right now. What does that mean? That means that we find a revolutionary set of principles to guide us.

For example, in Hurricane Katrina, when all the people in New Orleans were told to go across the bridge — the poor people, the Black people, the people from the inner city … “Go across the bridge. Get to safety. Your city's under water.” They went across the bridge to the suburbs only to be met by the racist white shotguns of the police force telling them to go back and drown. That was not, at that point, a climate change problem. When those police were there, that was a human problem. That was a breakdown of civil rights, a breakdown of American values. If we're not going to make climate change worse, we have to work a little bit on justice.

Both the DeChristopher part, which hit me hard, and the quote from the Zambian teen's notebook — “Freedom is meaningless, if there's poverty” — those two sections spoke to each other, for me. Renewable energy, as vastly important as that is … unless we curb the consumerism that demands so many petroleum-based products, it's all but meaningless.

I don't know if it's just about consumerism. I think it has to do with … I'll quote Tim again: “We can not solve our emotional problems with material needs.” We've been trying that. The film is saying that there's a radical politics of the spirit, as well as a radical politics at the ballot box. And it does some work to that issue.

The idea of the moral imagination … redefining success by folding some humanity into it rather than running on pure ambition …

Yeah, yeah.

I think of companies like Patagonia that have proved it is possible, at the corporate level, to do good and do well. Why is that the exception rather than the rule?

This is a creative situation. Our laws have been created to make corporations more immoral, to make sure there absolutely aren't any regulations or restrictions on what they do and how they operate. When industry says, “That will drive up costs!” all the politicians jump and try to make it as cheap as possible to do their business. We have to start thinking in different ways.

And, yeah, there are a couple of corporations that might think about sustainable virtues. But, to be honest, we're going to be impacting the planet. And we've impacted the planet. I'll go back to the virtues again: The biggest problem right now is not that there's social and economic inequality. The biggest problem is that we have social and economic inequality to the point that our system caters to draining wealth to the top and giving everybody else nothing. That situation of unfairness and oligarchy has everybody scrambling and that destroys the other human systems — health, the environment, education — so we don't make correct decisions.

That quote in the notebook of the kid — “Freedom is meaningless, if there's poverty” — I think what that means is, if you have no food, if you don't have a clean environment, if you're living in a situation that's difficult and dangerous, there is no freedom possible in that atmosphere. If we look at the social stratification right now — the violence of fracking, the violence that is inherent in this system — that is an act that deprives people of freedom in its own way.

I've long said, until we solve economic justice, those people can't care about the environment or civil rights or anything else. They are just trying to survive.

Well, they do care about it and they work on it.

Some of them, yes, absolutely.

Actually, I've seen an enormous amount of progress. Right now, we are in a place where there's a rising tide of movements worldwide — anti-fracking movement, climate change movement, the movement for LGBTQ rights, Occupy. There's a lot changing. The movement to create renewable energy. The movement to elect Bernie Sanders. I could go on and on. The movement for Native American rights. Black Lives Matter. These are responding to where we're at right now because things are so bad, in terms of the control that people have over their lives has diminished in the face of this economic, political, social, and environmental injustice and inequality.

At the same time, that means people are participating more — are awake more — and we stand a chance of pushing our agenda more. Of course, it seems like, no matter what we do, there's going to be some kind of manipulation of the very electoral system that changes these things at the government level. And that's an increasingly corrupt and complex system defending itself in increasingly corrupt and complex ways. We have to expect that, for us to be stronger than them.

If we had followed Jimmy Carter's lead 40 years ago, where do you think we'd be right now?

I don't know if it's possible to speculate. I do think, obviously, yes: Jimmy Carter put solar panels on the roof of the White House. Jimmy Carter emphasized sustainability and conservation. If we'd followed those principles, then I think we'd be in much better shape because the United States has a huge impact on what happens worldwide, so there's no question.

But I fear that your question comes from nostalgia and regret, which is inactive, rather than looking at what we've got, right now, in front of us. Let's be honest: If Jimmy Carter were running for president right now, he wouldn't win.

No. He wouldn't.

Because the times have changed. And Jimmy Carter, who's an incredible figure in American history that we can look to who I loved and who I think is incredibly inspiring and amazing so we have to pay homage, but we should be listening to him now! You know what Jimmy Carter's saying now? He's saying the whole system is broken and out of control and makes no sense!

And the truth is, we have allowed that to be what we make America and we're fighting back against it, trying to address the entire system. I've never seen a campaign that did that better than Bernie Sanders by talking about this idea of the political revolution. And I think that Bernie Sanders' political philosophy has won the day. If you look at the elections where the most people vote — the biggest section of the American electorate, Independents plus Democrats — he wins every time. That means that Bernie Sanders' political philosophy, which is far more energized and active than Jimmy Carter ever was when he was in the White House, we're in a time right now where actually Americans know what's up and know what we should do. If we could only have the political system address that, then I think we would see a lot of change.

Seeing as this is the Bluegrass Situation, I would be remiss to not mention how your banjo saved your ass twice over in China.

[Laughs] More than twice! If the banjo wasn't in the first movie, Gasland, I don't think it would have been nearly as popular. There's something about that instrument that changes the air and changes the conversation. I think it's because it's impossible — or, rather, a bad idea — to take it too seriously. [Laughs] You take it too seriously, then people start to think of you as a weirdo.

The banjo playing in this movie is in the tradition of Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie, which is pretty simple, mostly clawhammer style. It makes you really happy. It's a great traveling companion.

What do you mean two times? What was the first time?

In China, hiding the footage inside it, but also busting it out at that diner.

Oh, yeah yeah yeah.

But it's not just the banjo, right? That's just one little piece of it. It is the whole tradition of music and culture and folk activism that I'm invoking there. It's not just an instrument for a song. It's the fact that we have this really rich tradition in the United States of combining music, art, and culture. And we need that in the climate space, as well.

And so do all the people around the world. They have those same traditions, just their own takes on it.

Yes! And that's in the film, as well. But you know, I think, for whatever reason — and I don't know the reason — I think climate change activism has had less organic art and culture come out of it than, for example, the civil rights movement or a lot of the other movements that we think about as very important movements. And I think that that's too bad.

And I think that I'm doing my small part to try and change that by bringing the banjo and by the music in the film. I have music in this film from every tradition … from the Beatles to Radiohead to Tune-Yards to John Coltrane to classical music to noise music … it's an incredible musical journey you take with this movie.

Sarah Jarosz, ‘Everything to Hide’

There's something about Sarah Jarosz that gives the impression that she could — and might — make any or every kind of music known to man. Though a prodigy on the banjo and mandolin, she treats her instruments with the mastery of both a studied, careful hand and what seems to be an infinite amount of natural talent: Together, they are a most precious weapon that she uses to create an atmosphere filled with smoke and mystery on her fourth album, Undercurrent, never resting on her proficiency to showboat away. People who have studied at the New England Conservatory of Music, been nominated for a Grammy, and snagged a record deal at the age of 16 might fall into the trap of wanting to prove how deserving they are of those credentials, but not Jarosz. There is a calm control over her sonic world, a way of treating roots music with a slick sophistication that it so sorely deserves.

On "Everything to Hide," a stark and ethereal track that features Jarosz's vocals and picking alone, nothing is lost in what is near deceptive simplicity: Where some might load a moment like this with orchestral embellishments or punches of percussion, she tells the story with the fewest tools, yet the most power. She virulently pushes and pulls with each note, like the dangerous romance that sits at the backdrop of the song. "When I'm with you baby, we've got everything to hide," she sings, burying those secrets in the music — if we listen carefully enough, they're all ours to discover.

Feast Your Eyes on Vintage Sheet Music from the New York Public Library

There's old-time music, and then there's this: centuries-old sheet music available for your viewing (and playing!) pleasure courtesy of the New York Public Library's Digital Archives. From songs that eventually inspired country artists like Eddy Arnold to the early works of Tin Pan Alley legends, these amazing finds are crucial pieces of musical history, and are all gloriously free to the public. Check out a few of our favorite finds, and click through to see the full pieces of music.

"Kentucky Babe"

Issued in 1896, this sheet music for "Kentucky Babe," with words by Richard Henry Buck and music by Adam Geibel, is an early incarnation of a song that would go on to be recorded and performed by artists ranging from Perry Como to Eddy Arnold. A lullabye, the song implores the "Kentucky Babe" to "fly away, fly away to rest." You can watch Dean Martin perform the tune on a clip from Colgate Comedy Hour, recorded on June 5, 1955, right here.

"Banjo Serenade (Chloe I'm Waitin')"

Harry Bache Smith and Reginald De Koven wrote this tune for the musical comedy The Little Duchess, which explains its reliance on banjo: Banjo was an important part of early 20th-century musical comedy. The song was first performed by Anna Held, a Polish/French singer famed for her stage performances and her relationship with Broadway impressario Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr. Smith, known as one of the most prolific writers of stage lyrics of all time, was no stranger to collaborating with Ziegfeld, writing lyrics for the "Ziegfield Follies" Broadway shows, which eventually inspired a radio program and film. 

"Dancing on the Mississippi Landing" 

This tune's a little on the risqué side, especially considering its copyright date of 1901. "Then the girls they gather up their skirts, just so," the chorus goes, a line that would probably do just fine on today's Top 40 radio. A popular performance of the song is attributed to Queenie Vassar, a late 19th-century musical star from Scotland.

"Ma Black Tulip"

Tin Pan Alley songwriter Charles (Chas) K. Harris penned this 1901 song, which compares the performer's lover to a sweet "mint julep." Known as "The King of the Tearjerker," Harris — the apparent Diane Warren of his time — was known for his love songs which, unsurprisingly, were often dark and sad. He eventually came to work with Oscar Hammerstein, composer, impressario, and patriarch of the legendary theater family.

"Playing on the Golden Strings"

Pulled from the early 20th-century stage show A Hot Old Time, described on the music's cover as "a howling success," the first line of this song by Samuel H. Speck is "pick up the banjo." We can get down with that. Apparently critics could, too, as the show's performers, the Rays, were described as providing "scintillating, flashing, sidesplitting merriment."


All images via New York Public Library Digital Collections

3×3: Matt Flinner on Ross Martin, Steve Martin, and Which Schumer Is Which

Artist: Matt Flinner
Hometown: Pueblo, CO
Latest Album: Traveling Roots
Personal Nicknames: For a while when I was growing up, my nickname was "Bob" (my dad's name). In England, where I am right now, it's "Simon" (from a Mike Myers character on Saturday Night Live). I call Ross Martin, our guitar player, "Pollock," and Eric Thorin, our bassist, "Francis Bacon" … for reasons that are maybe best left out of this article.

What was the first record you ever bought with your own money?
A 45 of Steve Martin's "King Tut" when I was about seven years old. I loved that record! I had nothing to do with the banjo or bluegrass at that point (and neither did that record), but when, years later, I played on Steve Martin's The Crow album, I thought it was sort of bringing things around full circle.

How many unread emails or texts currently fill your inbox?
3,792

If your life were a movie, which songs would be on the soundtrack?
I think this changes constantly, but the low D-string on a banjo played over and over again would be my underlying soundtrack. To me, it's sort of a cosmic note that brings well-being to myself and the world around me.

What brand of jeans do you wear?
Levi's

What's your go-to karaoke tune?
"The Chicken Dance"

If you were a liquor, what would you be?
Akvavit

Poehler or Schumer?
Schumer (You mean Chuck, right?)

Chocolate or vanilla?
Chocolate

Blues or bluegrass?
Bluegrass — especially bluesy bluegrass


Photos one and three by Mark Woodland and Mike McGrath, respectively, courtesy of the artist.

Ned Luberecki Shares His Banjo Mastering Secrets

The banjo can be an intimidating instrument — listen to an Earl Scruggs tune and you may become convinced you need an extra set of hands to pull off those lightning-fast rolls and leads. Luckily, though, there are a number of resources out there for those of us not blessed with the natural musical ability of our bluegrass forefathers. One of those resources is the Complete 5-String Banjo Method series by Ned Luberecki. 

Luberecki is a renowned banjo player known for his musical work with Chris Jones & the Night Drivers and for his contributions to SiriusXM’s Bluegrass Junction. He’s also a banjo teacher in Nashville, Tennessee, a gig that helped him hone the material that would become the Complete 5-String Banjo Method after he was tapped by Alfred Music Publishing to helm the project a couple years back. The series — which is broken into Beginning, Intermediate, and Mastering levels — is a crash-course in all things banjo, from learning those first rolls in the Beginner book to understanding the intricacies of classical music theory in the Mastering edition. 

“I’ve been teaching banjo since the 1980s,” Luberecki says. “I’ve looked at all the other banjo methods that are out there and I’ve seen most of them. Of course I’m familiar with some of those written by my heroes in the banjo world, Pete Wernick and Tony Trischka and Alan Munde. For a long time, I’d thought about doing it not only because it seemed like another opportunity for me to have something out there, but also, the thing that took me so long was to try to come up with my own take on it. Because, you know, let’s face it, when it comes to beginning banjo, you have to start with the basics, which are how to play some forward rolls, how to play some chords, how to read tablature — the same stuff that’s going to be covered in anybody’s book. So it took years of teaching to come up with my own approach, to tailor things to the way I like to teach, as opposed to making it like everybody else’s."

It took Luberecki an entire year to translate that method to the page (and to the screen and speakers — each book also comes with audio and video components), describing the process as “a lot harder than [he] expected.” 

“I played every single note in the book … and that was a long process,” he laughs.

And there were lots of notes. The series is a comprehensive look at not just banjo techniques, but at music theory and history as it pertains to the most important instrument in bluegrass.

“The Beginning book starts with the very basics for someone who has never picked up a banjo before,” Luberecki explains. Beginners will learn rolls, chords, melodies, reading tablature, and basic banjo maintenance before graduating to the Intermediate book, which prepares players for their very first jams and collaborations with other pickers and players. For the Mastering book, Luberecki looks past bluegrass. “I took the approach that the 5-string banjo is being used and accepted in music other than bluegrass,” he says. With that in mind, he introduces players to classical music theory and more advanced musical languages.

It’s a valuable resource for players of any level, one Luberecki would have enjoyed having access to back when he first picked up the banjo during his youth.

“Yeah, I didn’t have a DVD player, that’s for sure,” he says. “I started by taking lessons. I took from a banjo player from around the Annapolis, Maryland, area named Bob Tice. As a matter of fact, people who are familiar with the guitarist Jordan Tice, it’s his father. So I took banjo lessons from him and he started me out with a couple of different method books. I remember one of them that I used was the Pete Wernick bluegrass banjo book, which has been around for a very long time, and also, of course, the Earl Scruggs book, which is great because it had all of those arrangements of classic Earl Scruggs songs in it. So I started by taking lessons from him and from working through those couple of books.”

So, ready to pick up a banjo yet? Luberecki has a final piece of advice. “My biggest advice for anybody who wants to start learning to play the banjo is listen to lots of banjo music,” he says. “You’re never going to be effective at playing it if you don’t know what it’s supposed to sound like. So listen. Find the players that you really like the sound of, find the bands and music that you really like, and ingest as much of it as you can. And go see people play it. Not only does that give you a clue as to how people work with their hands, but it’s just inspiring to go see great live music."

Check out the Complete 5-String Banjo Method series here


Lede photo credit: Me in ME via Foter.com / CC BY

3×3: Kyle Tuttle on Atticus Finch, Jennifer Love-Hewitt, and Prince’s Hot Chicken

Artist: Kyle Tuttle
Hometown: Cumming, GA (Yeah, that's really the name of a place. I usually just say Forsyth County.)
Latest Album: Bobcat
Personal Nicknames: Bobcat

 

Friends and tunes over a coffee cup. Round two. @theposteast #wildman #killeranski #americano #nashville #bluegrass

A photo posted by Kyle Tuttle (@kyletuttlebanjo) on

If Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, and Mohammed were in a band together, who would play what?
Jesus on five-string electric bass, Buddha on double-bass drum kit, Krishna on sarod, Mohammed on vibraphone. The band would be called AUM-G.

If you were a candle, what scent would you be?
Some type of patchouli/kale blend.

What literary character or story do you most relate to?
Atticus Finch. I think he's a model Southern man, and I would be proud to be like him.

 

You thinkin what I'm thinkin…? #celebrityendorsement #banjocoldbrew #bobcatlovescoffee @banjocoldbrew

A photo posted by Kyle Tuttle (@kyletuttlebanjo) on

What's your favorite planet — and why?
Earth, because it's the only one I've been to so far, and I've had a lot of fun here.

What's your best physical attribute?
I'm skinny, so I don't take up much room in the van.

Who is your favorite Jennifer: Lawrence, Lopez, or Love-Hewitt?
Definitely Love-Hewitt because I was 13 when Can't Hardly Wait came out.

 

Two axes, one job. Super fun jams last night with #bawninthemash. #banjo #fourGs #jamband #iandavidsoninstruments

A photo posted by Kyle Tuttle (@kyletuttlebanjo) on

Cat or dog?
Dog

Rain or shine?
Shine

Mild, medium, or spicy?
Prince's Hot Chicken Spicy

Bright Star Does Right by Bluegrass on Broadway

Broadway, lately, has been kind to the chorus it never saw coming, to adventurous works that look beyond traditional theater tropes and highly trained vibratos for a hook that lasts long after that curtain goes up. Hamilton, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s revolutionary hip-hop musical sensation, is the poster child of this: With its explosive performances and Roots-produced, Grammy award-winning soundtrack, it set a new standard for what the modern musical could do in terms of reconnecting theater with popular culture and keeping that life line intact. Waitress, the new musical based on the 2007 film starring Keri Russell, holds that pop connection close, as its music and lyrics were penned by Sara Bareilles of “Love Song” fame.

While shows like Les Misérables, Wicked, and The Lion King continue to draw crowds to their respective spots in Times Square every night, Broadway’s audiences are clearly clamoring for the current hits whose soundtracks make for seamless additions to their Recently Played iTunes playlist. They want an experience that banks on the music before the drama — and that’s how Bright Star gives its audience what it’s looking for.

Bright Star, the musical collaboration of Steve Martin and singer/songwriter Edie Brickell, brings Americana into this conversation. Set in the hilly sprawl of North Carolina in the wake of World War II, its story follows Billy Cane, a newly anointed veteran who’s trying to find his voice as a writer having just returned from the battlefield. Shortly after he makes his way home, he’s off again, heading to Asheville in the hopes of securing a byline at the Asheville Southern Journal. Alice Murphy — the paper’s tough, terse, and hawk-eyed editor — reads one of Billy’s stories and pays him for his work, but doesn’t publish it: She offers Billy the opportunity to pitch her ideas until one sticks, and he spends the majority of Bright Star working toward that goal. Through flashbacks, we learn more about Alice — where she came from, the loves and losses that shaped the bubbly teenager who somehow turns into the stern woman Billy meets at the Journal — and that her life’s story syncs up with Billy’s in a way that neither one of them sees coming.

While the plot of Bright Star bounces between the aspirational journey of Billy’s and Alice’s painful trip down memory lane, the music is what lays a firm foundation for the folklore. With down-home arrangements, plenty of opportunities for its singers to showcase their ability to belt the hell out of a long-held high note, and the steely twang of the bluegrass band onstage throughout the program, the music of Bright Star is the anchoring force of the production — the backbone that keeps the decidedly PG storylines from broaching cheesy, try-hard territory in a venue that’s more than susceptible to that kind of family-friendly fun. This isn’t "Bluegrass by Disney" or anything, either: The arrangements are tight, the vocal lines are tough, and the accents steer clear of caricature territory (for the most part). By treating the band as a living, breathing set piece — and keeping them visible and active throughout the performance — Bright Star makes the importance of the music known, sending the not-so-subliminal message that the pickers and players backing the actors are just as pivotal to the story as Alice and Bobby are themselves. Carmen Cusack, as Alice, can summon hope and warmth (“Sun Is Gonna Shine”) as effortlessly as she can channel grief and despair (“Please, Don’t Take Him”), and the bright banjo riffs and sad bass lows do so in kind.

Bright Star may not break new ground, as far as its story goes, and the music, while lovely, isn’t especially earth-shattering, though it’s great to see an acoustic guitar and mandolin treated so venerably on the Great White Way. But like Hamilton, Waitress, and other musicals that have audiences rethinking the role popular music has to play in storytelling, Bright Star succeeds in working music — in this case, of a folkier, bluegrass ilk — into its fabric while pushing boundaries and expectations for both the genre and the artform. Broadway’s finally down with beats and poppy hooks. It’s about damn time it picked up the banjo, too.


 

 
 

3×3: Danny Barnes on Wet Dirt, Old Cats, and Hot Sauce

Artist: Danny Barnes
Hometown: Port Hadlock, WA
Latest Album: Got Myself Together
Personal Nicknames/Rejected Band Names: My punk rock name is Buzz Autopsy. Blind Banjo Death. Wave of Fury. Cronald Dump. I Left My Kidney in San Francisco. Skate Beirut. Homeschooled Death. Abe the Cop. The Camaro Burden …

If Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, and Mohammed were in a band together, who would play what?
The beloved Meher Baba says these were all incarnations of the same person, so likely a solo act … with banjo … playing to an empty room.

If you were a candle, what scent would you be?
Wet dirt.

What literary character or story do you most relate to?
Jude the Obscure in the Thomas Hardy novel. It's about the music business.

What's your favorite planet — and why?
The earth — the flat earth with the firmament roof over the top as described in the ancient texts.

What's your best physical attribute?
My ability to get the hell out of places quickly without forgetting anything. It's a super power.

Who is your favorite Jennifer: Lawrence, Lopez, or Love-Hewitt?
I don't think I could pick any of these out of a police lineup. So I'd have to go with Lopez just because I knew this guy that had a fake name of Vladimir Lopez. He's in jail now … for a very loooong time.

Cat or dog?
I have an old cat that showed up at my house that I like pretty good. But I've always had dogs. I relate to dogs more than people. Seeing a person get run over by a bus doesn't really affect me, but I can't stand to watch an animal suffer. Here's a poem: Well, I like good dogs even better than people. They don't drive slow in the left hand lane. The dogs and the people got a good thing going. They come when you call, if you know their name. My dog Skillet speaks English.

Rain or shine?
I like the rain and the damp. I feel like music sounds better when the barometer is low and the air is thick and dense with moisture and oxygen. When I first started going to the UK, I fell in love with the weather and the side effects of it — like the way folks tend to read more in that scenario. Hence, I moved to the northwest U.S. because of the maritime climate, in part. For my music, I kinda have to have a fairly educated audience or something, otherwise I'm explaining my references so much it doesn't leave much time for banjo music.

Mild, medium, or spicy?
Spicy all the way. Indian food and Mexican food (vegetarian, of course). My buddy Max makes this green hot sauce that is super hot and awesome, and when I go hang out with him, if he doesn't have any made up, I like to joke that I'm going to split then and come back some other time.


Photo credit: Monica Frissell

LIVE AT LUCKY BARN: Nathan Bowles

We've teamed up with the good people at Pickathon to present a season's worth of archival — and incredible — videos from the Pacific Northwest festival's Lucky Barn Series. Tune in every fourth Tuesday of the month to catch a new clip.

Number five in the Lucky Barn Series comes courtesy of Nathan Bowles and his banjo. On "I Miss My Dog," Bowles sets a slow, sparse pace that does, indeed, mirror longing and loss. A few minutes in, a gentle playfulness emerges and gradually builds to a rousing climax before settling back down after nearly 11 minutes. He goes on to talk about how repetition is "built into the clawhammer style."

Pickathon comes back to the Pendarvis Farm in Happy Valley, Oregon, from August 5-7, 2016. Click here for more, and stay tuned for an exciting season of Lucky Barn videos.


Photo credit: Nehemiah Sliwoski