Taj Mahal & Ry Cooder Reunite to Honor a Duo That Few People Have Heard Of

“No, no, no, no.”

Ry Cooder is quick to put something to rest as he talks by phone from his home in the hills above Pasadena, California.

Yes, he and Taj Mahal went a full 54 years between recording projects together — from Cooder playing on Mahal’s 1968 solo debut, which grew from them co-fronting the band Rising Sons, to right now for the duo album Get on Board: The Songs of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. The thing is, in the decades that harmonica master Sonny Terry and Piedmont blues virtuoso Brownie McGhee worked regularly together, from 1939 to the early 1980s, they were often at odds, sometimes not even speaking to each other off stage.

But no, there were no rifts between Cooder and Mahal, no disputes, no bad feelings that kept them apart.

“Nothing like that!” Cooder insists. “No, no, no!”

The time between projects?

“Musicians, you know,” Cooder says. “He travels around all the time.”

Yet, in other regards…

“It’s funny,” says Mahal, on a separate call between tour stops, “because we’ve actually become the men that we admired. We’re the new version of it, you know? So, it’s like full circle. It’s a wonderful thing to have really accomplished that, to be in a life in music.”

The way Cooder and Mahal have become the men they admired, presumably, is in the role of elder statesmen keeping traditions alive. They are honoring and, in highly personalized ways, refreshing the music with deep ties to past generations and cultures. That full circle — global circumnavigations, really — has seen them explore a wealth of music and cultures, from Cooder’s key role in Cuban group Buena Vista Social Club projects, to Mahal’s drawing on the Afro-Caribbean roots of his musician/arranger father. Their individual efforts include collaborations with musicians from Africa and India, just for starters. But with this album they each go back to where the sparks for all that first happened.

For Cooder, it started with the first Terry/McGhee collaborative recording, also called Get on Board, a key release in the essential catalog Mo Asch created on his Folkways label. In fact, the new tribute album not only uses the title but has cover art that is an homage as well. The full title of that 1953 album was the now archaic Get on Board: Negro Folksongs by the Folkmasters.

Sonny Terry had come to some mainstream recognition as part of the original cast of Finian’s Rainbow on Broadway in the late 1940s, and as a pair he and Brownie McGhee were featured in the Broadway productions of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Langston Hughes’ Simply Heaven. They were also championed by Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Harry Belafonte, among other prominent supporters. But for young Cooder, this record was a discovery marked by its vibrant energy, with Terry and McGhee joined by one Coyal McMahan on vocals and percussion.

“It’s a great record,” Cooder says. “You’ve got the mysterious Coyal McMahan on bass voice, sort of a church bass, and maracas. They should have kept him on. I don’t know why they didn’t. He added a whole other quality to it. I don’t know who he was and nobody knows at this point.”

The new album features three of the eight songs on the Terry/McGhee set — “Midnight Special,” “Pick a Bale of Cotton” and “I Shall Not Be Moved.” Its remaining songs are part of the icons’ other recording and live repertoire, from the reverent “What a Beautiful City” to the carousing “Drinkin’ Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee” to the double-entendre “Deep Sea Diver” to the down-and-out “Pawn Shop Blues.”

Adding their own touches to the songs, Cooder and Mahal recorded mostly live in the living room of Cooder’s son, Joachim, who also played various percussion instruments and bass, sort of filling the McMahan role (and more). They didn’t seek to recreate the originals. What they did do, was have fun.

“That was the intent,” Cooder says. “I mean, it seemed to me that we could pull it off and keep that feeling that those guys had back then. I don’t want to say ‘jolly,’ but foot-tapping, nice music. They had gone for a white audience, I’m pretty sure, at that point anyway. So, you couldn’t very well play very dark music at white people in those days. They wouldn’t know what you were talking about, what it was for. By the time they started recording together, I guess, black popular music had changed radically.”

Cooder is conscious of the radical changes since then in music and culture, in particular noting “Pick a Bale of Cotton.”

“They’re still really good songs,” he says. “And I think people will like hearing them as much now as they liked hearing them back when Brownie and Sonny did them. It’s a different time now. Of course everybody’s consciousness is totally different. I mean, everything is different.”

That’s part of the point, not to let the music that inspired them get lost.

“It just feels like old times,” Cooder says. “I have those records from when I was a little kid, so I can dig it. I remember how it used to make me feel listening to the record, how tremendous it was, how exciting it was.”

The circle for Mahal goes back to the early 1960s, when he was a student at the University of Massachusetts.

“There was a whole network for folk music and blues and bluegrass and country and all that old-time stuff in and around the Northeast sector,” he says. “I was like 19, 20 years old. And those guys were coming through and playing at local coffee houses. You could get to see them quite a bit. And I thought they were just an incredible powerhouse duo.”

A couple of years later, Mahal, who had started playing on the folk circuit himself, encountered a guitarist with a great feel for blues.

“I said, ‘Well, where the heck did you learn how to play like that?’” Mahal remembers. “And he said, ‘Well, you know, I took some lessons from this guy out in California named Ry. I said, ‘Do you think that guy might like to be in a band?’ And he said, ‘Well, he’s only 17 years old.’ I said, ‘Are you kidding me?’ And I said, ‘I guess I have to go to California.’”

And he did. When they connected, a love for Terry and McGhee was one of their bonds. Cooder, too, had seen the duo play a few times by then, the first coming when they played at the opening night of the Ash Grove, a Hollywood club that would become the center of the California folk and blues scene.

“My mother took me down there,” Cooder says. “I was 13 or so. I sat there and watched them. My gosh! It was something to see the whole thing come to life. You know, it was a tremendous impression when you’re young like that.”

And when they’re not-so-young. (Cooder just turned 75 and Mahal will be 80 in May.) They first chatted about teaming for a project after Cooder joined Mahal at the 2014 Americana Music Honors & Awards at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium on Blind Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues,” a staple in the Rising Sons repertoire and a standout on Mahal’s 1968 album. That latter version, which featured Jesse Ed Davis on electric slide guitar, is reputedly the recording on which the Allman Brothers’ rendition was modeled.

When Cooder suggested an album honoring Terry and McGhee, Mahal was, well, on board. “Those guys are foundational titans,” Mahal says. “Here’s a guitarist and harmonica player that spanned 40 years, at least.”

But these musicians are also largely forgotten, which adds a sense of mission to this project, to rekindle interest in the guys whose recordings and concerts meant so much to them.

“If you stood on a corner and did an exit poll and talked to a million people, none of them would know who they are,” Cooder says. “They’ve been completely overlooked. I don’t know anybody that’s ever heard of them or remembers who the hell they were, except for musicians who have made it a point to keep certain things in mind. It’s like bluegrass. If you keep Bill Monroe or Reno & Smiley in mind, it’s that kind of thing. That’s how you live, and that’s how you evoke things, this memory that you have of these records.”


Photo Credit: Abby Ross

WATCH: Larry McCray, “Down to the Bottom” (feat. Warren Haynes)

Artist: Larry McCray
Hometown: Saginaw, Michigan
Song: “Down to the Bottom” (feat. Warren Haynes)
Album: Blues Without You (produced by Joe Bonamassa and Josh Smith)
Release Date: March 25, 2022
Label: KTBA Records

In Their Words: “Albert King, Albert Collins and B.B. King really had the most influence on me because, in my mind, they were the greatest of their generation at playing the blues. And it took them their whole careers to achieve minor milestones in the business. So, if it took the greatest players their entire career to make it, who am I to complain about having to walk in their footsteps? I feel totally reborn, with a whole new career, and I’m optimistic about what the future holds. But truthfully speaking, sometimes I do wish it would have happened 30 years ago. I would have been much more qualified for the job at that age than at 62.

“I met Joe when he was in his early 20s, and I met Josh when he was about 13 out on the road touring. My first impression of both is that they would do exactly what they did by becoming the alpha figures in the pack among all the other guitar players out there. I never thought that either one of them was impressed with anything that I played because I am old school. I was really surprised when I found out that they wanted to work with me. It was very difficult at times — sometimes I even felt very self-conscious having to play before someone I respected to this level musically. But it felt good to be working with old friends that I knew and whose opinions I valued and trusted so much.” — Larry McCray


Photo Credit: Arnie Goodman

LISTEN: Tim Gartland, “The Thing About the Truth”

Artist: Tim Gartland
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “The Thing About The Truth”
Album: Truth
Release Date: March 18, 2022
Label: Taste Good Music

In Their Words: “The song was a collaborative effort between me and Karen Leipziger. We both live in Nashville and wrote it over a couple of sessions at her studio. We chose a topic which both of us were passionate about, which is how the truth is manipulated to fit the narrative of certain groups. Working with Karen, we both wanted to express that while everyone has their point of view about societal ills, those views need to be based on facts. The facts, however inconvenient, must be accepted and dealt with. Only then can we work together to make things better. The music was written to capture the vibe of the song and expertly produced by Kevin McKendree at The Rock House in Franklin, Tennessee. The song features Wendy Moten on supporting vocals and Robert Framm on guitar. The musical conversation between the chromatic harmonica and guitar was meant to evoke how people can artfully have a meaningful discussion.” — Tim Gartland


Photo Credit: Erika Rock

LISTEN: Natalia M. King, “One More Try” (George Michael Cover)

Artist: Natalia M. King
Hometown: Brooklyn, NY, currently based in Paris
Song: “One More Try”
Album: Woman Mind Of My Own
Release Date: February 18, 2022
Label: Dixiefrog Records

In Their Words: “When ‘One More Try’ by George Michael came out back in 1988 I was an itty bitty youngster who could relate to the emotion of the song but not the experience. All I knew in listening to him and feeling him was that something hurt, and it hurt bad…I was moved by his sadness and his necessity to be released, to be ‘let go’ from a love that was no longer serving his life or his heart. It was later on in life that his words were given sense and meaning with the different births of intense experiences of loves lost and found and lost again. The fact that I was also searching to define my sexuality at the time was a plus! His interpretation was so feminine! I was sure he was gay! With all that said and done, and to simply boil it down: ‘One More Try’ felt right! The timing, the knowing, the experience. Today, as a liberated, experienced, sexual, and quite emotional woman, it was almost commonsensical, logical for me to interpret this song! On this album! In my bluesy-folk way!” — Natalia M. King


Photo Credit: Philip Ducap

Carolina Calling, Asheville: A Retreat for the Creative Spirit

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Asheville, North Carolina’s history as a music center goes back to the 1920s and string-band troubadours like Lesley Riddle and Bascom Lamar Lunsford, and country-music pioneer Jimmie Rodgers. But there’s always been a lot more to this town than acoustic music and scenic mountain views. From the experimental Black Mountain College that drew a range of minds as diverse as German artist Josef Albers, composer John Cage, and Albert Einstein, Asheville was also the spiritual home for electronic-music pioneer Bob Moog, who invented the Moog synthesizer first popularized by experimental bands like Kraftwerk to giant disco hits like Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love.”

It’s also a town where busking culture ensures that music flows from every street corner, and it’s the adopted hometown of many modern musicians in a multitude of genres, including Pokey LaFarge, who spent his early career busking in Asheville, and Moses Sumney, a musician who’s sonic palette is so broad, it’s all but unclassifiable.

In this premiere episode of Carolina Calling, we wonder and explore what elements of this place of creative retreat have drawn individualist artists for over a century? Perhaps it’s the fact that whatever your style, Asheville is a place that allows creativity to grow and thrive.

Subscribe to Carolina Calling on any and all podcast platforms to follow along as we journey across the Old North State, visiting towns like Shelby, Greensboro, Durham, Wilmington, and more.


Music featured in this episode:

Bascom Lamar Lunsford – “Dry Bones”

Jimmie Rodgers – “My Carolina Sunshine Girl”

Kraftwerk – “Autobahn”

Donna Summer – “I Feel Love”

Pokey LaFarge – “End Of My Rope”

Moses Sumney – “Virile”

Andrew Marlin – “Erie Fiddler (Carolina Calling Theme)”

Moses Sumney – “Me In 20 Years”

Steep Canyon Rangers – “Honey on My Tongue”

Béla Bartók – “Romanian Folk Dances”

New Order – “Blue Monday”

Quindar – “Twin-Pole Sunshade for Rusty Schweickart”

Pokey LaFarge – “Fine To Me”

Bobby Hicks Feat. Del McCoury – “We’re Steppin’ Out”

Squirrel Nut Zippers – “Put A Lid On It”

Jimmie Rodgers – “Daddy and Home”

Lesley Riddle – “John Henry”

Steep Canyon Rangers – “Graveyard Fields”


BGS is proud to produce Carolina Calling in partnership with Come Hear NC, a campaign from the North Carolina Department of Natural & Cultural Resources designed to celebrate North Carolinians’ contribution to the canon of American music.

LISTEN: Tinsley Ellis, “Step Up”

Artist: Tinsley Ellis
Hometown: Atlanta, Georgia
Song: “Step Up”
Album: Devil May Care
Release Date: January 21, 2022
Label: Alligator Records

In Their Words: “I was initially trying to write a retro-soul music song when I started writing ‘Step Up’ in mid-2020. The pandemic was just getting us all firmly in its grips right about that time. I wanted to write a song with a good beat and an uplifting message, along the lines of Sam & Dave or Wilson Pickett. ‘Step Up’ ended up being a cross between Stax Records and Jimi Hendrix. I used my 1959 Fender Stratocaster and a Marshall 50-watt half stack amp on it, and this worked well set against the B3 organ and full horn section. It’s definitely one of my favorite songs on the new album!” — Tinsley Ellis


Photo Credit: Suzanna Khorotian

BGS & Come Hear NC Explore the Musical History of North Carolina in New Podcast ‘Carolina Calling’

The Bluegrass Situation is excited to announce a partnership with Come Hear North Carolina, and the latest addition to the BGS Podcast Network, in Carolina Calling: a podcast exploring the history of North Carolina through its music and the musicians who made it. The state’s rich musical history has influenced the musical styles of the U.S. and beyond, and Carolina Calling aims to connect the roots of these progressions and uncover the spark in these artistic communities. From Asheville to Wilmington, we’ll be diving into the cities and regions that have cultivated decades of talent as diverse as Blind Boy Fuller to the Steep Canyon Rangers, from Robert Moog to James Taylor and Rhiannon Giddens.

The series’ first episode, focusing on the creative spirit of retreat in Asheville, premieres Monday, January 31 and features the likes of Pokey LaFarge, Woody Platt of the Steep Canyon Rangers, Gar Ragland of Citizen Vinyl, and more. Subscribe to the show wherever you listen to podcasts, and be on the lookout for brand new episodes coming soon.

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Inspired by Black Culture Overseas, Buffalo Nichols Makes His Blues Debut

As the first solo blues artist signed to Fat Possum Records in 20 years, Buffalo Nichols faces high expectations. But on his self-titled debut, the musician (whose given name is Carl Nichols) more than meets them, stitching Black history and musical traditions with current events and experiences to craft the sonic equivalent of a quilt. And the story it tells is an important one.

Nichols was born in Houston and raised in Milwaukee, but when he got the urge to roam and the money to do it, he took off, immersing himself in creative scenes across Europe and West Africa. Although he’s been based in Austin since the fall of 2020, Nichols channels the Delta, North Mississippi and Chicago through his nimble fingers or resonator slide while wrapping his warm voice around words that cut to the core of oppression, and the many forms of heartbreak it causes. While the poetic lyrics in songs such as the sad, beautiful “These Things” might be open to interpretation, there’s no mistaking the point of “Another Man,” adapted from the chain-gang lament, “Another Man Done Gone”:

When my grandpa was young
He had to hold his tongue
‘Cause they’d hang you from a bridge downtown
Now they call it ‘stand your ground’
Another man is dead.…

No need to hide behind a white hood
When a badge works just as good
Another man is dead…

It’s a protest song for today — clearly connecting the dots that for Black people in America, as the song says, “it might as well be 1910, killing women and killing men.

BGS: Do you remember when you discovered blues music?

Nichols: I guess I discovered it as a genre when I was 12 or 13, through my mom’s music collection. She had the stuff that everybody had in the ’90s: Robert Cray, Strong Persuader, and that Jonny Lang album (Lie to Me); stuff like that. For the most part, I skipped the blues-rock thing. That was never of much interest to me; I went from contemporary blues straight to country blues and folk blues.

So how did you get from Milwaukee to West Africa and Europe?

Airplane.

Thanks for the smart-ass Greenland answer.

(Both laugh.) I didn’t travel much as a kid or into my teens. When I finally had the money and independence to do it, I decided to go as far as I could. That’s where I ended up.

And how did your travels help you find this path you sought to connect the Black experience, as expressed in early blues, to Black lives today?

I just saw a respect for Black art and Black culture that didn’t exist, and still doesn’t exist, here. And it is upsetting, but I just felt like, if there’s something that can be done about it, even if it’s futile, it’s still worth trying. I saw so many people in Europe making a living off of (music), and in Africa, really living and dying for it. So I felt like I could contribute in my own way.

The lyrics in “Another Man” are particularly chilling, and quite effective, I think. Listeners tend to assume lyrics are autobiographical even when they’re not, but the lines “Police pulled a gun on me. I was only 17” sure sound like they come from actual experience, especially in a place like Milwaukee. Is that a fair assumption?

Yeah. That is fair. “Another Man” is an older song that came from a time when I mostly wrote autobiographically, when I was deeply immersed in — or at least trying to be immersed in — the folk and Americana world. Ironically, the reason why I felt like leaving that and going to the blues is because I got really tired of this sort of outsider perspective, like trying to explain my humanity to a bunch of white people. That’s what Americana was, and still is, to me. So I stopped talking about myself so much, because I felt like my experience should be valid enough without the trauma. They really love that stuff in Americana. In the blues, it’s not much better, but now I make more of an effort to write stories and not always write about myself.

I’m sorry that you felt invalidated in those genres. Country and Americana … a lot of these genres are trying to be more inclusive, but sometimes it feels like they’re forcing it. Where’s the balance, and how do we find it?

As far as I can tell, so much work has been done to keep it this sort of white-boys club, that any effort for inclusivity is naturally going to be forced. Until there’s this real structural change, the same people who made it what it is are just going to be cherry-picking which voices they allow to break through every once in a while. It doesn’t feel natural; it feels … like it’s all been sort of orchestrated from behind the scenes.

I guess if it feels forced now, maybe one day it won’t. Going back to the music, there’s a really elemental sound to these songs. A lot of them are just your vocals and resonator. When I saw you live, I noticed a lot of effects being added that aren’t on the album. What’s the decision behind that?

I had a more ambitious idea of what I wanted to sound like, and I didn’t get to do it on the record, so I try really hard to be more creative live.

I think it’s a great album, but I can understand if it doesn’t express your artistic desires, why that might be frustrating.

That certainly ties into my gripes with Americana. Everything is like, “Oh, this is great progress.” But at the end of the day, the people who orchestrated it are the same people who kept us out of it.

When it comes to authenticity in blues, do you believe race makes a difference?

I think it does. I mean, I’ve been hearing that word a lot, authenticity, and I don’t even know what it means anymore. Obviously, it’s complicated, but … there’s so much about the blues that I don’t even understand, being born in 1991 and being raised in the Midwest. And it takes me a lot of conscious effort to — you know, part of it is this real ancestral connection that I feel, and part of it is stuff that I have to learn like everybody else. But I really think that white people are so far from the actual music and the culture of it that I just don’t understand; I mean, it’s great music, but white people can do whatever they want and be anything they want. I don’t know why you would want to be a depressed Black person. (Both laugh.)

A blues scholar I really respect told me that one reason it seemed like Black people gravitated away from the blues is because it was the music of a depressed culture, a time of oppression, and hip-hop is music of aspiration.

I think that’s a myth. Hip-hop and the blues both cover the entire — I mean, I jokingly say it’s depressing, but both cover every aspect of Black existence, the joy and the darkness. There are a lot of theories on why Black people moved away from the blues. But I think a pretty good example is somebody like Elvis, where the music industry found a way to make the music without the people, and when people don’t see themselves in it, they look for something else. I think that’s really what it is. You can even see it in real time. When things get commodified, regardless of race, the people who create the culture feel like, “OK, now we have to move on because it’s not ours anymore.”

Well, how do you respond to that? Is there any way that makes sense?

I really don’t know. Some of my peers are a little further ahead of me, but Kingfish (Christone Ingram), Adia Victoria and Jontavious Willis, everybody’s doing their part. But we’re also scrambling around, figuring out how do we, in this limited time on this earth that we have, carry on this tradition that these people dedicated their lives to and went through hell to preserve, this little piece of culture that we are able to make a living off of. I think the best thing we can do is just keep creating, because each one of us is going to inspire one or two or three artists to take on that burden and turn it into something that we’re all proud of.

Every time somebody says the blues is dead, there are always people who seem to be picking it up. Maybe it goes in and out of popularity, but it doesn’t feel like it’s going away; at least, I think people who want to find it are still always going to find it.

It does kind of go in and out of fashion — and people make a bigger deal out of it than they should, because this music predates the music industry. It doesn’t have to be profitable; it doesn’t always have to be in vogue. It is a genre, and there is an industry surrounding it, but it also is a cultural art form. It doesn’t need anybody’s attention to be valid.


Photo Credit: Merrick Ales

WATCH: Blues Traveler, “Ball and Chain” (Live Session)

Artist: Blues Traveler
Hometown: Princeton, New Jersey
Album: Traveler’s Blues
Single: “Ball and Chain”
Release Date: July 30, 2021
Label: Round Hill Records

In Their Words: “I was terrified of this one, as it’s so closely associated with Janis Joplin and stands out as a pillar of the blues genre. Not quite ‘Sweet Home Chicago,’ but close!! We were wondering, ‘What the hell are we going to do with this to make it cool??!!!’ Answer was to go back to a couple of OGs — Big Mama Thornton and Etta James. Etta did her version minor, but the feel was killer. Big Mama had more major feel and felt straight Chicago. If it wasn’t pianist Otis Spann on the version we listened to, I need to know who it was!! Stronger Than Dirt!” – Ben Wilson, keys, Blues Traveler


Photo Credit: Graham Fielder

WATCH: Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, “Long Distance Woman”

Artist: Christone “Kingfish” Ingram
Hometown: Clarksdale, Mississippi
Song: “Long Distance Woman”
Album: 662
Release Date: July 23, 2021
Label: Alligator Records

In Their Words: “Maintaining a healthy relationship is already hard and when you sprinkle in distance it can make matters of the heart particularly taxing. Covid certainly changed and tested how we all communicate. So as a response to the times, using video chat, the ‘Long Distance Woman’ visuals speak to how romantic relationships can be challenged by proximity.” — Christone “Kingfish” Ingram

Editor’s Note: Read our BGS interview with Christone “Kingfish” Ingram.


Photo Credit: Justin Hardiman