Tag: blues

Counsel of Elders: David Bromberg on Music’s Many Languages

Posted on by Editor

There’s no end to the adjectives ascribed to musicians and their styles, but few are, themselves, an adjective. With David Bromberg’s career-spanning 50 years in the industry — which include recording his own albums, guesting with a variety of artists, and producing others still — he has run the gamut when it comes to music making as a life calling. So then it makes sense that “Brombergian” would encompass that very spirit, defying any quick and fast label in order to create a path outside the “way things are.” It’s a designation his friend, collaborator, and producer Larry Campbell first used to describe Bromberg’s particular blues style, but it seems fitting to expand its use. Bromberg has gone about things differently, eliding the industry’s desire to fit him into a neat category by playing multiple instruments (and styles), as well as taking a significant hiatus from recording music in order to run David Bromberg Fine Violins in Wilmington, Delaware. His career is nothing short of Brombergian.

After rising to fame on his 1972 self-titled debut — which itself spanned various styles from the pondering, folk of “Dehlia” to the bluegrass-driven “Lonesome Dave’s Lovesick Blues #3” to the acoustic blues number “Pine Tree Woman” — he refused to be categorized and confined. Beyond defying a lone musical identity, though, Bromberg did what many a musician might balk at after achieving some level of notoriety. He took time off, beginning in 1980, to focus on learning the violin business … 22 years to be exact. “But who’s counting?” he chuckles, his matter-of-fact delivery belying his easy good humor. Bromberg returned to form in 2002 and hasn’t stopped his pace yet. With a new album, The Blues, the Whole Blues and Nothing But the Blues, just out, he’s made what he describes as his most homogenous album yet, even though the different types of blues — Chicago, Delta, and more — on the album might suggest a more Brombergian approach. At 71 years old, he’s got a lot more to say and more than a few ways to say it.

You’ve recorded so many different genres of music. Each one reminds me of a language. If we’re sticking with this analogy, what do you consider your native tongue?

Oh, boy. That’s a difficult question. I mean, my first response is usually blues. However, a more correct response might be what’s now considered oldies radio. But, you know, I’m not really sure.

Okay then, what do you enjoy most playing?

Music.

That’s cheating!

I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. There are two kinds of music — good music and bad music. I prefer the good kind.

Besides styles, you play several different instruments. Do you find each suits a particular mood?

Yeah, absolutely, and that goes even for one guitar versus another guitar. Any two guitars, they’re going to be different and, if they’re guitars that you can talk to, then you can enjoy them both.

How much do they talk back?

An awful lot. I discover these days, when I start to play mandolin or a fiddle, my guitars yell at me, “You’re not done with us yet!”

What was it about the violin that attracted you?

I learned to play a little bit of fiddle pretty early on. I’m a terrible fiddler. I mean, I used to be just merely bad, but these days I don’t play enough to be anything more than terrible. What interested me about the violin … you know, people assumed that I wanted to be a violin maker and I never wanted to be a violin maker. What fascinated me was how someone could pick up a violin and, without referring to a label, which the labels are very often wrong, you can say when and where it was made and sometimes by whom. And that’s what I wanted to learn, and that’s what I do.

How do you measure success, then? It seems like many, if not most, wouldn’t have considered stopping for 22 years to make instruments.

I still stand by this: At the point where I could take a cab home at the end of the night instead of getting on the subway, that was all the success I needed.

Oh, I love that. But it’s so true.

It really is.

On the flip side of success, what does it take to survive in this business?

Persistence, and that’s not as much of a “blowing you off” answer as it may sound. I think persistence is tremendously important, and I kind of surprised myself by not showing that much, and actually stopping for 22 years, because I knew how important it was. I remember … Charlie Rich was a country or rockabilly singer and, in his 60s, had a huge hit. Persistence. “Behind Closed Doors” was the tune. It was a good tune, and he sang the hell out of it.

Here’s the thing: At one time, if you just stopped someone under the age of 40 on the street and said, “If you could do anything in the world, if you could be anything in the world, what would you be?” They would say, most of them, “Oh, I’d be a rock ‘n’ roll star.” Well, the people who become rock ‘n’ roll stars, they’re people who have to be rock ‘n’ roll stars. That’s it. That’s real. I’m sure it applies to a lot more than just rock ‘n’ roll. Any difficult, enjoyable profession, it’s gonna take a lot of drive. In my day, doing what I did entailed learning to sleep on other people’s floors. I think it’s actually harder today.

Well, there’s certainly a lot more noise today in that there are a lot more people able to get their music into listeners’ headphones.

Did you ever see that ad for the headhunting firm on television? They’re in a tennis stadium, and the guy’s about to serve, and some guy comes out of the crowd and swats at the ball with a briefcase, and then before you know it, the court is covered with people out of the stands, all of them trying to hit the ball. And this is a headhunting firm trying to tell you, “Look, we’ll get you the good people.” But that’s what’s going on. The record companies, which don’t really exist any longer, used to be a filter because you couldn’t just make your own record on an iPhone. It required money. Somebody who got far enough to actually make a recording, well, there might be something there. The odds were greater than they are on YouTube, and YouTube is the medium today.

And even something like Soundcloud, where you can upload an EP or a mixtape and put yourself out there. But there’s no filter.

There’s no filter to say, “Well, you should really listen to this, or you should really listen to that.” I don’t understand how anybody gets anywhere, except for money. I think one of the things that can work for you is, if you impress very wealthy people, maybe they back you. To be someone who does a modern stage show, I mean, that’s very expensive. It’s not an easy thing. Not that it was easy in my day, either, but I think it’s harder today. Anyone and everyone does put things out there, and nobody gets paid for anything any longer, and that’s a difficult thing.

I know even with the streaming services it’s some kind of paltry per-play fee.

I can tell you where this comes from and how this came to be. It used to be that radio stations paid nothing to the artist to play a tune. They might have a small royalty that would go to the writer of a song, but the artist got nothing. So this idea got moved over to the Internet. The Grammy people are trying to change it. I went down to DC and I was a lobbyist for a day, promoting the idea to different representatives that everybody is making the money except the people making the music.

Is there a big coalition?

Basically, in DC these days, no one can do anything. It’s all static — in the sense of not moving.

What’s the most surprising piece of advice you ever received? Or that you, yourself, picked up along the way?

I’ve given people some advice that is kind of surprising or surprises them a lot, people who want to break into music. I say, “Well, you have to be in either New York, Los Angeles, or Nashville.” And people generally don’t think about it, but if you become famous in Dubuque or Boston even, your fame will reach to the edges of Boston. It will take you the same amount of time to be famous in New York, but the New York press is nationwide. There’s your difference.

Those are the cities where the industry has headquartered itself.

Right.

On your latest album, you span so many different blues styles. It’s like you’re coloring outside the lines in a way. Why make this type of album?

This is the most homogenous album I’ve ever made. I never saw any reason not to play any music that I enjoyed. Why be limited? This is commercial suicide to do things that way. The first time I asked Larry Campbell to produce an album, I said “Let’s do an album of all Chicago-style blues.” And he said, “No, let’s do an old-fashioned David Bromberg album.” I never assumed that he’d listened to those records, but evidently he had, so that’s what we did for the first one we did together [2013’s Only Slightly Mad]. The latest one is me taking baby steps to being a little more homogenous.

In the old days, from a commercial point of view, it was suicide, because the record stores had no idea what bin to put me in, and the record company had no idea where and how to advertise me. “But what will we call you?!” “Call me anything but late for dinner.” [Laughs] Without question, it’s the most homogenous album I’ve ever done, and it was fun to do. I’m happy about it.

And I saw you re-recorded “Dehlia” for this album. What was it like revisiting that song?

I did it on my first album, but Larry Campbell plays so beautifully on it, I just had to do it again. After I did the first with Larry producing, Larry and I did some gigs together, just the two of us, and I’ve never wanted anybody else to play on that tune, but I did it one night. Larry was sitting there and he started playing the slide on it and it was so gorgeous. It just kills me every time.

 

For more wisdom from another bluesy elder, read Amanda’s conversation with Tony Joe White.

LISTEN: Otis Taylor, ‘D to E Blues’

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Otis Taylor
Hometown: Boulder, CO
Song: “D to E Blues”
Album: Fantasizing about Being Black
Release Date: February 17, 2017
Label: Trance Blues Festival Records

In Their Words: “The track ‘D to E’ is about a person who is screaming for freedom, even though he has been pushed down. Sometimes getting from D to E is a lot harder than it seems.” — Otis Taylor

Photo credit: Evan Semón

Squared Roots: Scott Biram on the Legend of Lead Belly

Posted on by Editor

Though Lead Belly was merely a man, his story reads like the stuff of legends. He had multiple encounters with the law, was sentenced to a chain gang, escaped, killed a relative, and got thrown back in the hoosegow, earned himself a pardon because the governor was a fan. But then he stabbed someone else and got put back in prison, this time in Angola, where Alan and John Lomax found him. He was released, again, after serving his minimum and pleading with the governor, but committed a second stabbing, in the late ’30s. All the while, he so impressed everyone who heard him that he also landed himself in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Known primarily for playing 12-string guitar, Lead Belly also played the piano, mandolin, harmonica, violin, and diatonic accordion on the hundreds of songs he recorded over the course of his all-too-brief career.

Texas songwriter Scott Biram grew up on those songs and, later, learned the stories that went with them. In his own bluesy, folky, soulful Americana style, Biram hears the inevitable echoes of Lead Belly coming through, including on his latest release, The Bad Testament. The influence is there in the miscegenation of musical styles, but also in the way Biram approaches his role as raconteur.   

Why Lead Belly?

Well, Doc Watson was taken! [Laughs]

[Laughs] Fair point.

I would definitely say he’s among my biggest influences — Doc and Townes Van Zandt are my other two. Lead Belly has been in my life my whole life. My dad listened to him a lot when I was a kid. I have quite a few songs where I do a little rant in the middle, where it’s not really singing as much as it’s telling a little story or saying something. I think I got that from listening to Lead Belly.

Right. Must be nice to have parents who listened to cool music. I grew up on Barry Manilow and Dionne Warwick.

[Laughs] There was definitely a lot of Eagles and Crosby, Stills, and Nash at my house. But my dad listened to a lot of Doc Watson and Lightnin’ Hopkins and stuff like that.

I can see why he would gravitate toward that stuff. Lead Belly really did have a singular style — this mix of blues, folk, gospel, and country on a 12-string guitar. What was it that spoke to you in that mish-mosh or maybe it was the mish-mosh?

I think a lot of it had to do with just being a part of my life when I was a kid with my dad listening to it so much. We had this vinyl record that was the soundtrack to the film Lead Belly which is a pretty obscure movie, not really easy to find. I think they filmed it in ’76 or something like that. I was a little kid. They filmed it in the little town that I lived in and I was in my dad’s arms on the edge of the set while they were filming the scene where Lead Belly shot his friend and went to prison.

Well, one of the times he went to prison …

One of the times … yeah. [Laughs] So I heard that soundtrack a lot, which wasn’t actually Lead Belly playing on the soundtrack. It was Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee and someone named Hi Tide Harris who I haven’t been able to find too much on, even with the Internet.

Once I got into roots music, when I was a little older and started playing bluegrass and started really playing the guitar a lot and learning blues, Lead Belly was just naturally somebody that I gravitated toward. And his story is so interesting. I read all the biographies. I read a lot of biographies on musicians that influence me so that I don’t just have a shallow knowledge of them. If I’m going to be playing some of their music, I want to definitely know as much about them as possible.

That’s awesome. I had never studied much of his life until prepping for this. But, I mean … the guy recorded hundreds of songs, worked with the Lomaxes, had a radio show on WNYC, went to Europe, and was in and out of prison multiple times — sang his way out of jail a couple times — all before dying at 50 or 51. That’s some hard living. Can you imagine spending even a couple years in his shoes?

No. [Laughs] I mean, I can imagine, but I’m probably not going to do a very good job of imagining what something like that would be like. I’m just a guitar player. [Laughs] Actually, he only sang himself out of prison once. There’s a legend about him that he sang himself out twice, but really, the second time was kind of exaggerated. I think he was in prison in Louisiana, at that time, and he got out on something called “good time” which is, I think, probably good behavior.

Right. He served his minimum and got out. Here was an interesting thing that I learned: He played at the Apollo, but the Harlem audience didn’t really resonate with him as deeply as the folkies did. He had a lot in common with Woody Guthrie, maybe more so than some of the old blues guys, but why do you think the Black audience didn’t connect?

First of all, he was a country guy. And I don’t mean country music; I mean from the rural South. So I’m not sure anyone from New York would really see it as anything but a spectacle, at that time. But, also, I wonder — and I’m just guessing here — I know that John Lomax used to kind of have him dressed up in a prison uniform and stuff like that, kind of clown him around out there and make him seem like he was just straight from the prison. I imagine that might have been a turn-off to some people in Harlem back then. I know Woody Guthrie, when he went to New York and was supposed to be on something and they wanted him to dress, as he described it, “as a clown,” he said he’d be back in a few minutes, went downstairs, and left. Didn’t even come back to the studio. [Laughs]

[Laughs] Yeah. I read that Life magazine did a three-page spread on Lead Belly and the title of the article is not something I’m going to repeat.

Yeah, I get ya.

And it was considered an honor that he was getting this prominent placement. But it makes sense that the minstrel thing wouldn’t fly.

It might’ve been a turn-off to people in Harlem. If there was anyone from the South who lived in Harlem at that time, they probably weren’t impressed by it because, to them, it was just a reminder of what they just left.

The other thing I love about listening to his stuff and pouring over his stories is that he lived through an era of history that was rife with huge moments and he documented history as it happened, writing songs about the Titanic, the Hindenburg, Jim Crow, FDR, Hitler, etc. Pete Seeger carried his style forward. Bob Dylan, to a certain extent. Who else do you hear carrying the Lead Belly torch?

You mean documenting history as it happens?

Yeah. Ani DiFranco does a bit, which she picked up from Pete Seeger.

Honestly, nobody comes to mind that is documenting current events in music so much that it’s actual historical stories in the songs. There are a lot of people saying their thoughts about the current states of everything, but I can’t think of anyone that actually sings a story about a tragedy.

Santiago Jiménez, Jr. — Flaco Jiménez’s brother — has a record called El Corrido de Esequiel Hernandez: Tragedia de Redford. The album is titled after the song about a kid in Redford, Texas, down in the desert on the border, who was walking his goats one day and the guys in the DEA or Border Patrol came and shot him because he had a rifle walking, like he did every day, with his goats. He was basically a shepherd and he got shot. That’s the only one I can think of that pops out and that’s not a popular artist or anything. [Laughs]

[Laughs] Right. I was just thinking Hurray for the Riff Raff does it a little bit. Rhiannon Giddens, a little. But no one to the same extent. I mean, if you read Lead Belly’s song titles, you can trace history.

A lot of the time you have to listen to it as “The Hindenburg Disaster, Part I” and “Part II” because they couldn’t fit the whole song on the single. They had to put it on both sides!

BGS Class of 2016: Books

Posted on by Editor

Yes, indeed, this was a great year for music (just check out our stacked 2016 albums list) and, luckily for all the bibliophiles out there, it was also a great year for music books. Because there's nothing better than reading a good book while your favorite music plays, we've rounded up a few of our favorite books from the past year. From Whisperin' Bill Anderson's life story to a memoir from the one and only Bruce Springsteen, there's something here for everyone.

Just Around Midnight: Rock and Roll and the Racial Imagination by Jack Hamilton

Slate writer and University of Virginia at Arlington professor Jack Hamilton tackles the complex relationship between race and rock 'n' roll in the 1960s in this new book. It's an essential addition to the rock 'n' roll history canon that covers new, much-needed ground.

Slim Harpo: Blues King Bee of Baton Rouge by Martin Hawkins

Slim Harpo forever altered the culture of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, with his own take on blues music. The only available biography about Harpo, this book preserves the legacy of one of the genre's most important artists.

Whisperin' Bill Anderson: An Unprecedented Life in Country Music by Bill Anderson and Peter Cooper

Whisperin' Bill Anderson is one of the most celebrated songwriters in country music, with hits for everyone from Ray Price to Eddy Arnold. In this autobiography — written in tandem with music writer Peter Cooper — Anderson offers a behind-the-scenes look at Music Row, his storied career, and the difficulties he faced as the music industry evolved.

Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen

An autobiography from the Boss … need we say more? 

Anatomy of a Song: the Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B, and Pop by Marc Myers

"Proud Mary," "Carey," "Mercedes Benz," and 42 other legendary songs get the oral history treatment in this anthology from Wall Street Journal columnist Marc Myers. It's a fascinating read for anyone, but should be especially so for anyone hoping to write the next classic song.

Photo credit: Abee5 via Foter.com / CC BY.

SaveSaveSaveSave

3×3: Jimmy Lumpkin on Zeppelin, Norway, and Southern Manners

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

Artist: Jimmy Lumpkin
Hometown: Fairhope, AL
Latest Album: HOME
Personal Nicknames: JL Fresh

 

Bombarded by beach buzzards! Cute though, huh?

A photo posted by Jimmy Lumpkin (@jimmy.lumpkin) on

If you had to live the life of a character in a song, which song would you choose?

"Ramble On," Led Zeppelin

Where would you most like to live or visit that you haven't yet?

Paradise, or Norway maybe

What was the last thing that made you really mad?

Myself

 

Dangerous Alligators

A photo posted by Jimmy Lumpkin (@jimmy.lumpkin) on

What's the best concert you've ever attended?

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, Van Morrison — in the rain.

What's your go-to karaoke tune?

Sorry, don’t have one; would probably be “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd

What are you reading right now?

Nothing at the moment, but I love the bookstore and the familiarity of the written word. I am always seeking that spark.

Whiskey, water, or wine? 

Whiskey, and water. And Wine. 

North or South? 

Wherever you’re at, there’s always an upside — and down. Whichever invites me back. Still, I’m Southern in manner and heritage. Without bias.

Facebook or Twitter? 

All my Facebook posts are Tweeted, I believe.

LISTEN: Brigitte DeMeyer & Will Kimbrough, ‘Broken Fences’

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Brigitte DeMeyer & Will Kimbrough
Hometown: Nashville/San Francisco
Song: "Broken Fences"
Album: Mockingbird Soul
Release Date: January 27, 2017
Label: BDM via Sony RED

In Their Words: "Brigitte came to me with these lyrics, and I was so moved I immediately came up with some music. Then she suggested I sing lead, and we had such a great time making this energetic blast of a song.” — Will Kimbrough

"This is a song about someone who's in trouble. They've messed up and are trying to make it right. The lyrics were inspired by a friend." — Brigitte DeMeyer

Photo credit: David McClister

MIXTAPE: Bloodshot Records’ Chicago Sounds

Posted on by Editor

Bloodshot Records has been operating in Chicago for the entirety of its 20+ years as a record label. As the story goes, the label was birthed — written on a bar napkin at local watering hole Delilah’s — to compile the sounds and ideas of a burgeoning country/punk scene in and around the city in the mid-’90s. On our site, it says, “We’ve always been drawn to the good stuff nestled in the dark, nebulous cracks where punk, country, soul, pop, bluegrass, blues, and rock ‘n’ roll mix and mingle and mutate.”

And while Mike Smith and I haven’t been there since Bloodshot’s inception, we grew up on the catalog (Heartbreaker, anyone?), along with other sounds of similar ilk and of similar community. If you spend enough time in Chicago going to and playing shows, drinking at the Hideout or Schuba’s or Empty Bottle, or just meeting people who are vaguely into music, there are names that consistently arise — ones that have the respect of other musicians, live music show-goers, and casual standers-by.

Here, we’ve compiled our own mixtape of Chicago’s current roots/alt-country artists. Maybe none of them implicitly fall under those umbrella (and sometimes unwanted) terms, but they all possess some sort of grit, twang, or attitude that slots in with the roots aesthetic. — Josh Zanger

Wilco — “Casino Queen”

The band took shape after the split of alt-country originals Uncle Tupelo and, as Wilco progressively leaned more toward pop/indie rock, Chicago has happily claimed them as a musical staple. Early in the band’s career, you could still hear the alt- influences, especially on their debut album, A.M., songs like “Casino Queen” and “Box Full of Letters” remind me of Jeff Tweedy’s creative work with Jay Farrar (now of Son Volt) and Brian Henneman (of Bottle Rockets).

Robbie Fulks — “Aunt Peg’s New Old Man”

Robbie is a Bloodshot original — his first album is catalog number BS011 — and, in my opinion, what keeps the Chicago alt-/roots scene relevant and vibrant. If you think I’m partial, take a trip to the city and go see his residency at the Hideout on a Monday night while he’s in town. Every show is different, with different themes and different guests, but ALL of them feature Robbie’s excellent musicianship and high-wire wit.

Hoyle Brothers — “How Many More Nights”

Since I moved into the city many years ago (and for many years before that), the Hoyle Brothers have been a local honky tonk treasure. They’ve been doing weekly happy hour residencies at the Hideout and Empty Bottle since early 2000s, and it feels like a rite of passage to have attended and gotten drunk at one of their performances.

Lawrence Peters — “Another Year”

If you’ve been to the Hideout, you’ve seen Lawrence behind the bar slingin’ PBRs and cheap whiskey shots. There’s also the chance that you’ve seen him playing honky tonk and country music as the Lawrence Peters Outfit, in one of many renowned local bands, or DJing country tunes at various bars and clubs.

Waco Brothers/Jon Langford — “Receiver”

Jon Langford is a man about town — making art, playing shows, making music, making his political voice heard, kissing babies — and I have yet to meet a person who doesn’t love him. Also, every time he comes to the Bloodshot offices, he makes it a brighter place and then leaves with, “Thank you, good people of Bloodshot, and keep up your great work!” On his own or in various projects, he’s beyond prolific. With the Wacos, content comes a little more slowly, but always carries an added punch in the band’s potent rock ‘n’ roll/punk/country form. In full disclosure: A Waco Brothers 7” is the label’s third release.

State Champion — “There Is a Highlight Reel”

I haven’t seen the band play in a while, so I’m not sure if they even call Chicago home — their Facebook page lists “Chicago/Louisville.” They have a grungey, garage, twangy sort of sound that brings to mind an alternate genre Uncle Tupelo. Freakwater’s Catherine Irwin lends guest vocals to this song, giving it an extra bit of eerie grit.

— Josh Zanger, publicist at Bloodshot Records

Al Scorch — “Everybody Out”

In Chicago over the last five years or so, Al Scorch has been at the forefront of the roots music scene. His combination of bluegrass, folk, country, and punk-rock is uniquely Chicagoan — it’s a direct cross between tradition and rebellion. In the city, you can see Scorch telling urban stories over his lightning-fast banjo pickin’ everywhere from punk clubs to square dances, DIY spaces to theaters. He is a true everyman. I grew up on punk music, and I moved to Chicago from the beautiful Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, a hotbed for roots music and traditional bluegrass, in particular. When I first saw Al Scorch at the famed punk club the Empty Bottle on a Saturday afternoon, it was the first time Chicago truly felt like home to me.

Ryley Walker — “On the Banks of the Old Kishwaukee”

Ryley Walker has been playing multiple styles of guitar (classical, jazz, psychedelic, bluegrass … you name it) in punk bars and jazz clubs around Chicago for years, both solo and with some of the Chicago underground’s most iconic musicians. In local music circles, everyone knows his name for different reasons. In 2014, Walker signed to Dead Oceans, a Bloomington, Indiana, label that specializes in indie rock with splashes of roots music, and released three terrific albums in two years. Just like Walker’s guitar-playing, the albums span a wide genre map, much of which draws from folk, bluegrass, and classic country. Throw in a few jazz and psych numbers, and it’s a unique blend of guitar-led American music.

Devil in a Woodpile/Rick Sherry — “Shake It and Break It”

Devil in a Woodpile is a roots music fixture in Chicago, and Rick Sherry is the carnival barker-like vocalist fronting the unplugged string band. His baritone bellow is earth-shaking while his harmonica playing is to be reckoned with. Devil is also uniquely Chicagoan, as they mix Appalachian-era bluegrass, country (the stuff that floated up the river and landed in the old juke joints and square dances of mid-century Chicago), and folk with the brand of blues that was born in Chicago. Folks will gather in the small Hideout barroom (there’s a reason we keep mentioning the Hideout — it is truly THE roots music haven in Chicago) to watch Devil in a Woodpile play unmic’d in the middle of the room, right on the checker-tiled floor. It’s an event every time. Sherry can also be seen playing in the swingin’ Sanctified Grumblers and the acoustic pickin’ Hatstretchers.

Whitney — “No Matter Where We Go”

Though they aren’t your typical “alt-country” or punk-infused roots that often defines the Americana underbelly of Chicago, Whitney is a band not to be overlooked in the conversation. Born out of the ashes of the short-lived indie rock band Smith Westerns, Whitney combines soul, AM radio pop, late-Wilco-leaning guitar wizardry, and ‘70s-era country music that would make Gram Parsons tap his foot. It’s a unique sound amongst the psychedelia and garage vibes that currently permeate the Chicago indie rock scene. You’ll often see them playing with a brass section and a pedal steel guitar, simultaneously, as evident in their hometown hero set at the 2016 Pitchfork Music Festival.

Henhouse Prowlers — “Leaving You for the Interstate”

As made clear in this piece, a multitude of Chicago bands incorporate bluegrass into their music, mish-mashing it with punk, blues, and country. But the Henhouse Prowlers (previously known as Sexfist — yes, you read that correctly) are one of the few that play traditional bluegrass in the Windy City. Crowded around a mic, pickin’ away on banjo, guitar, dobro, upright bass, and fiddle at Martyrs on almost any given weekend, the Prowlers sound more like the Cumberland Gap in the 1950s than Chicago in the 21st century. Their lyrical allusions are what bring it back around to modern times. They have a song called “Spoiler Alert.”

Jim Elkington — “Slow Train”

If you’ve seen live music in Chicago, you’ve seen Jim Elkington play guitar. The virtuoso has played with everyone from Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy to Eleventh Dream Day (with Freakwater’s Janet Bean) to various Mekons-related projects. (I once saw him play a David Bowie tribute set with Jon Langford and Sally Timms at the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art that felt like a bad acid trip — but you’d never know it through Jim’s deadpan while he shredded away.) I can’t tell you how many shows I’ve been to in which I didn’t even know he was playing until he emerged from the shadows on stage. He’s ubiquitous. Elkington has also released several albums of superb guitar instrumentals steeped in country, bluegrass, and other roots stylings on the Paradise of Bachelors label.

— Mike Smith, new media publicist at Bloodshot Records

Photo on Foter.com

Celebrate Giving Tuesday with the Music Maker Relief Foundation

Posted on by Editor

Earlier this year, we wrote about the wonderful work our friends at the Music Maker Relief Foundation are doing to support Southern musicians and preserve the musical legacy of the South. Now, you can give back to this wonderful cause and pick up some cool swag in the process. As part of #GivingTuesday, a November 29 global event that encourages participants to donate to charities that acts as a foil to the more consumer-driven traditions of post-Thanksgiving Black Friday and Cyber Monday shopping, we've teamed up with Music Maker to offer the chance to win some awesome prizes for anyone who donates to the foundation today. 

Donate to Music Maker and you'll automatically be entered to win one of the prizes below. You'll also receive a link to download an exclusive mixtape curated by the BGS and Music Maker. Please note: In order to be eligible to win a prize and to receive the mixtape, you'll need to note "BGS" in the comments section of your donation. Music Maker plans to match up to $10,000 of donations made today.

Music Maker T-Shirt

This Next Level Apparel 50/50 t-shirt is a must-have for any music lover. The shirt commemorates one of Music Maker's dearest partner artists, Captain Luke.

The Whole Nine Yards Set

Over the past 20 years, Music Maker has accumulated an incredible collection of music from amazing artists from all over the South. Our new version of “The Whole Nine Yards” contains a digital collection of all 170 Music Maker releases consisting of 2,109 songs, as well some unreleased gems. This beautiful package comes with a customized walnut USB drive, box, and five greeting cards

We Are the Music Makers Book and CD

We Are the Music Makers: Preserving the Soul of America’s Music, written by Timothy and Denise Duffy, features over 65 photographs taken by Tim Duffy over 20 years along with stories and songs. Of the book, B.B. King said, “We Are the Music Makers highlights an essential part of our culture, providing us a glimpse into the lives of the amazing, and often little known, musicians of the American South. Tim Duffy has taken every opportunity to sustain a dimension of blues culture that could easily be lost forever, and nowhere is that more apparent than in his new book.

BGS Zip-Up Hoodie

Stay warm with a Bluegrass Situation hoodie. This design is printed on a slim fitting, soft-style, zip-up sweatshirt.

BGS Leather Coozie

Extremely high quality leather coozie that is bound on two sides to make sure the coozie doesn’t slip from your beverage.

Counsel of Elders: Taj Mahal on Understanding the World

Posted on by Editor

Taj Mahal is an innovator. If he didn’t work in music, it’d be easy to imagine him in a more scientific field, engineering together something uncanny he came up with only in a dream, a fleeting moment of thought that held enough weight to solidify imagination into actuality. As it is, his creativity finds shape in the only natural language that can ever truly convey meaning: music. A bluesman through and through, Mahal has redrawn that genre to reveal its full spectrum. For those purists who might take issue with the fact that “the blues” under Mahal’s thumb doesn’t keep to its strict geographical boundaries, he reveals it as a bridge to a more global experience, one that landed in the West Indies during the slave trade and traveled farther north over time. Whether incorporating African rhythms from countries like Mali and Ghana or lighter melodic fare from the Caribbean, Mahal knows no bounds. He paints, as he says, from his lineage, enlarging the picture with every brushstroke.

His newest record, Labor of Love, is a blues project with several previously unreleased Music Maker Relief Foundation artists, such as the one-armed harmonica player Neal Pattman and the blind singer Cootie Stark, who have both since passed away. Originally recorded in 1998, the album pairs solo Mahal tracks with moments of collaborative fusion. It marks Mahal’s first studio release in four years and is a powerful look at foundational blues songs like narrative ballads “John Henry” and “Stag-O-Lee” (“Stack-O-Lee” on the album). For a musician who has surpassed 50 years in the industry, his voice may sound a tad gruffer than it did at its very start, but those grains are simply wisdom he’s acquired over the years. Mahal looks upon the world — and the music in every corner — with a well-traveled perspective, always ready to draw connections between here and there, then and now.

I saw you play at the Blues and BBQ Fest in New Orleans back in October, and one line you sang has stuck with me ever since: “If you don’t like my peaches, then don’t bother me.” That feels like necessary advice in any day and age.

You can’t spend what you ain’t got, you can’t lose what you ain’t never had: That’s the blues. It runs the rainbow of emotions. I enjoy it just because of that. Whatever happens in life, the blues has got a song for it, a phrase for it: “I’ve been down so long that down don’t bother me. I’ve been down so long that up don’t cross my mind.” As far as I’m concerned, it stays solid for what humanity is at any time, so I love it.

It’s interesting that you mention an emotional spectrum, because that points toward your own approach to music, which borrows from so many different traditions.

Here’s the thing: It’s already there. I don’t think people really understand that. If you go online, there’s something called a two-minute version of the slave trade into the West, and it shows each year from when it started from Africa into the “New World.” Once you understand that, you realize that you have people from pretty near the North Pole to the South Pole who are related to one another, but don’t know one another. Okay, so where do you hear it? You hear it through the music.

For me, I was raised to be well aware of my own culture. My mother was an immigrant of the South and my father’s parents were migrants from the Caribbean, so the idea that we’re connected was there all the time as a kid. I just see it as looking up my relatives. It’s already inside; I hear it. It’s like, “How come I’m hearing Cuban music?” I like it because the Nigerians are really important in terms of what’s in there — 26 percent of my DNA is Nigerian. Another significant portion of it is Congolese and Cameroonian, and this one and that one, and hunter-gatherers and Bantu. It’s like, “Dang! You got the whole continent going on in you!” Mali, Senegal, Ivory Coast, Ghana …

So you’re singing your lineage?

Exactly. And, you know, I’m drawing from different parts. I found out what my job would be as a musician, because you didn’t just play music, it was something that was attached to value to your particular tribe, and different tribes had different ways of doing it. In one area, as a Creole, I would be responsible for the history of the family that I was attached to.

That kind of value challenges the music industry’s primary money-making goal.

They will stifle music that is really important, culturally, to a group of individuals because they’re not making money off of it. It’s just weird. So maybe, if you’re not making money off of it, make it available and let the people who need to have that have that. But no, “We’re in control now!”

That’s long been the struggle. There’s an entire history of Black banjo players that weren’t recorded because someone decided it didn’t fit a particular image.

That’s a big part of opening up these vaults that are full of incredible information.

When the muse hits, what does she deliver? And how do you transform it?

Sometimes it’s the whole song, sometimes it’s a line. Sometimes I’m walking and something comes in, and I’m listening to it. I work a lot from the bass line. I like good bass line in my songs.

That’s interesting.

I mean melodic percussion.

That’s where African music gets it right. So much of Malian music is that beautiful melodic percussion.

We started out here making walking bass — the African-Americans came up with walking bass — and the Jamaicans came up with talking bass. You listen to Bob Marley, you’ll become totally aware of bass, and what they do is they go in — the particular sound they make on Bob’s stuff — he went into the studio, after everything was done, and he would go over the bass lines with a Stratocaster guitar, because he said a lot of people can’t hear the lower bass, so you put a tone on an instrument that they can recognize that opens the vibrations of the bass up into their body and into their mind. Here’s what it does: Jazz gives you back your mind, blues gives you back your soul, reggae gives you back your body. It’s only my opinion.

I think you just came up with a new t-shirt design. I would wear that.

Well, thank you very much. You just gave me an idea.

You’re quite knowledgeable about African music. Who are the artists from the various countries on the continent that inspire you?

I listen to everything: Sunny Agaga, Sunny Adé, Papa Wemba, Franco, the Soul Brothers out of South Africa, Brenda Fassie out of South Africa. Of course, Mother Africa herself: Miriam Makeba.

So what does your record collection look like? Is it huge at this point?

It’s all over the place. I never got rid of my vinyl.

Smart.

I’m a vinyl guy. I moved into whatever it is — CDs and MP3s and stuff that I have to have — to deal with it, but for listening, it’s vinyl.

Turning to Labor of Love, I’ve heard you cover “Stag-O-Lee” before and you included another version on the album, which has a lighter, almost sweeter, feel. How do you approach these covers each time?

This version probably vibes off of Mississippi John Hurt. I don’t really think about it. These songs are living. I’m presently working with a professor, Cecil Brown, who has written an incredible book on Stag-O-Lee [Stagolee Shot Billy], and we’ve had a lot of time over the last few years to sit down and talk about this individual. He’s done an awful lot of research on him. It’s a living thing, a living person, in terms of what they do and who they are and how it goes and what they’re up to and what their life was like.

It’s this one moment that transforms into an American myth.

That kind of character existed in the community when I was growing up. He became even that much more as time went on and the communities crumbled. The area of town I lived in was one thing when we were growing up and then, when the economics changed, a lot of people moved out of the town. Well, they created the suburbs around there and the center city just fell apart. Kids growing up didn’t have the doctors and the lawyers and the principals and the school teachers all in town like it used to be. It used to be, you could see these people and you could make it forward and do something great yourself, but everybody moved away and dispersed and what was left in the inner city was the pimps, the hoes, and then it was whatever kind of drugs that were there. And then, of course, when crack hit, it just went crazy. [“Stag-O-Lee”] was an old story talking about a new problem.

Speaking about old stories talking about new problems, it feels like we’re in a time of new stories talking about old problems.

Yeah.

And, look, the country has always had a pretty backwards mindset when it comes to race, but this feels like a big step back.

If you back up, we ain’t that long out of slavery, and this country isn’t that old, and it’s built from people that didn’t really … they had some parts of it cool, but they didn’t see Tupac and Biggie and Snoop Dogg coming down the road. They didn’t accommodate for that.

I think Trump has opened up space for a certain population to vocalize what has always seethed underneath the surface.

Which may not be a bad thing. I don’t know. I’m of the opinion that, you know what, this is what people have been saying all along, and everybody’s acting like it’s so brand new. No! It’s been there all the time. You have to remember that, in the ’50s, Elvis came along touting Black music. A lot of people didn’t like him because he was a white man doing Black music, but the white folks didn’t like him doing Black music, either! But at the same time, because he did, a whole lot of doors opened, and if you follow behind him for the next several decades, Black music was the music of the Americas. Certainly in the United States. So was the poetry, so were the books, so was the art, so was the spoken word. All that was there. Almost all of that stuff has been x-acto-knifed out of our culture at this point, so you don’t really have anything that really responds to it, so these people are responding in a vacuum.

People only want to engage with people who share their point of view, so that point of view becomes reflected and nobody has to disagree.

Or learn how to agree to disagree.

Yeah, we’ve lost that.

Okay, here’s something different: My whole thing is, I don’t like Bill O’Reilly, so I had to learn how to listen to him when I don’t like what he’s saying because I was saying, “You’re reacting to him. He’s got you where he wants you. You need to respond, so that whatever he says, he says it and you respond to it. Get clarity of mind.”

It’s such an important part — to understand what someone else thinks and why.

That’s right. Who knows? We’ll see what happens. That’s why I stay with the music. That helps. It gets me through all of this. That’s why people like what I do, because it gets ‘em through it.

No matter how bad it looks, you put on a record.

There you go!

 

For more wisdom from the elders, read Amanda’s conversation with William Bell.

Photos courtesy of the artist.

Smithsonsian Folkways Brings New Life to Arhoolie Records Catalog

Posted on by Editor

Arhoolie Records is one of the most important labels in roots music history. Founded by Chris Strachwitz in 1960, the El Cerrito, California-based label, which has built a reputation for sharing and preserving traditional American music, was responsible for releases from such roots, blues, bluegrass, and R&B greats as Lightnin' Hopkins, Mance Lipscomb, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Flaco Jiménez, and Del McCoury. In May of 2016, Smithsonian Folkways Recordings acquired the extensive Arhoolie catalog from Strachwitz and and his Arhoolie partner, Tom Diamente, with plans to make the label's 650+ albums available to the public across a variety of media. 

Since its acquitsition of Folkways Records in 1987, the nonprofit record label of the Smithsonian Institution has amassed a vast catalog of diverse music, including collections from the Blue Ridge Institute (music from Ferrum College's collection of recordings made between the 1920s and 1980s), Fast Folk Records (a project of Fast Folk Magazine boasting cuts from Tracy Chapman and Shawn Colvin), Paredon Records (an assortment of songs, spoken word, and poetry recorded at the tail end of the Civil Rights movement of the late 1960s), and the UNESCO Collection of Traditional Music (an impressive collection of out-of-print world music). 

The Arhoolie collection featuring music from more than 1,000 artists launched on October 21 by making a number of the label's catalog album available digitally, on CD, and on limited edition vinyl LPs. A glance at the 395 titles currently available shows a number of rarities, like out of print 7" records from Big Mama Thornton and Hank Williams, as well as CDs and digital downloads from everyone from Freddy Fender to Elizabeth Cotten. The collection also features albums from Peruvian label Discos Smith and regional Mexican labels Ideal, Falcon, and Rio.

Look for more titles from the Arhoolie catalog to be released in coming months. In the meantime, listen to a selection of Smithsonian's Arhoolie titles on Spotify and browse titles available for purchase here.