Tag: fiddle

LISTEN: Adeline Stringband, “Hickory”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Adeline Stringband (L to R: Chris Coole, Mark Kilianski, John Showman, Adrian Gross, Sam Allison)
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario
Song: “Hickory”
Album: Adeline
Release Date: July 23, 2021

In Their Words: “This session was definitely one of the loosest, most off-the-cuff, and most creative I’ve been a part of, and I’d hazard to say the same is true for the other guys. Smack dab in the middle of the pandemic — when none of us had really seen anyone besides immediate family for about a year — we holed up in a cabin in the woods and recorded old time tunes for three days and three nights. Seeing as it was -20º and there was a blizzard outside the whole time, there was nothing to do but pick tunes and roll the tape, and that’s exactly what we did. We learned “Hickory” from the great fiddler Earl White, and you can really hear the group interplay on this track.” — Adrian Gross

Photo credit: Chris Coole

16 Bluegrass Songs for Summer Vacation

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s summer, our second in the “after times,” where road trips, national parks, and scenic byways are king. As you head off on your COVID-aware vacations this summer, don’t leave all the driving music to indie, easy listening, country & western, or rock ‘n’ roll. The chop of the mandolin, thump of the doghouse bass, and rapid-fire roll of the five-string banjo are just as suited to soundtrack your sunny forays. To prove that point, here are 16 bluegrass songs perfect for inclusion on your summer vacation playlists. (Listen to the full playlist on Spotify below.)

“Highway” – Claire Lynch

Bluegrass being an itinerant livelihood and a nomadic community, traveling songs are just as expected a feature as murder ballads, train tunes (a form of travel song unto themselves!), and moonshine running tales. This modern classic via Claire Lynch — written by Lynch and Irene Kelley — is a perfect example of the form, more ‘90s country offered by a string band than a traditional, four-on-the-F-style grassy track. It’s delightful — and perfectly winsome and longing when you find yourself listening while traveling down the highway.

“Handsome Molly” – Tim O’Brien

Our July 2021 Artist of the Month Tim O’Brien’s rendition of this bluegrass classic is a far cry from, say, a Flatt & Scruggs’ cut. O’Brien’s has a slight transatlantic bent — with a distinct island detour, perhaps through the sunny Caribbean. If you’ve found a craving to set your foot on a steamboat and sail the ocean ‘round deep inside your soul, this one’s for you.

“1952 Vincent Black Lightning” – Del McCoury Band

Another track with a transatlantic story, this ever-popular, most-requested number covered by the Del McCoury Band is a road trip staple — whether you get in or on your vehicle to hit the highway. It would be a sin to make a bluegrass summer vacation playlist and not include “1952 Vincent Black Lightning!”

“Val’s Cabin” – Laurie Lewis

A rare example of a bluegrass song actually about summer vacations, this Laurie Lewis original, “Val’s Cabin,” begins as a simple retelling of childhood memories — nostalgia being a common rhetorical device (and when attempted by many other writers, a well-worn trope) in bluegrass. But Lewis, a veteran through-hiker, wilderness excursioner, and backpacker as well as a Grammy-nominated bluegrass singer and songwriter, tinges the story with melancholy and the existential questions raised by the ever-worsening climate crisis. The song is as evocative as it is gorgeous; though the singer can’t find the way to “Val’s Cabin” any longer, every listener can.

“Paddy on the Turnpike” – Vassar Clements

If you ever happen to find yourself Crossing the Catskills on a summery jaunt, “Paddy on the Turnpike” must be in your listening rotation. Avoid the tolls, but still go for a ride on the turnpike with Vassar Clements’ wild, unpredictable, jaw-dropping, wonky fiddling. “Paddy” is a blank canvas for Clements and a study in bluegrass’ unending affinity for flat seven chords.

“Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” – Tony Rice

A hit in nearly every jam circle that ever circled, “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” is almost as if “Gentle on My Mind” had been written by a much less kind or compassionate protagonist. Tony’s solo vocal stylings are as iconic as his six-string licks, nearly obliterating any memory of this song ever having been sung by anyone else. What’s more, the titular advice of the track still stands. Just don’t.

“Highway 40 Blues” – Larry Cordle & Lonesome Standard Time

Because “Interstate 70 Blues” just doesn’t roll off the tongue. And that melodic hook should go down in history as one of the best country licks to ever lick! Cordle wrote one built for the long haul with “Highway 40 Blues.” It’ll keep you good company as you go wherever and back.

“Banjo Pickin’ Girl” – Annie Staninec

Is there any better reason to go around this world than being a banjo picker? There are never enough banjo pickin’ girls and this anthem, no matter how many times it’s picked up, studied, and retooled by another banjo pickin’ girl, always SLAPS. (Clawhammer pun intended.) Fiddler and multi-instrumentalist Annie Staninec, who’s traveled around the world making music quite a bit herself, gives an excellent old-time rendition of this favorite.

“A Crooked Road” – Darrell Scott

Darrell Scott turns a literary device pretty common in songwriting on its ear, with a tender eye for detail and emotion that he brings into all of his musicmaking. Life is, after all, about the journey — not the destination. Why not take the crooked, and thereby, the road less traveled? 

Plus, take this song as suggestion: The Crooked Road, Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail, is well worth a visit. Put this song on and take the Crooked Road.

“Up and Down the Mountain” – David Parmley & Continental Divide

Work life doesn’t suit you? Does “paradise” mean a fiddle and the open road? If so, “Up and Down the Mountain” is for you and your road trip playlist. Especially if you’re planning on trekking through the Rockies, Sierras, Ozarks, Applachians, or what-have-you. Turn off cruise control, watch for the runaway truck ramps, and go up and down those mountains! David Parmley & Continental Divide know something about geography and topography, after all…

“Roving Gambler” – The Country Gentlemen


Not sure why you’d be headed to Las Vegas during one of the hottest summers on record, but if you’ve got your sights set on a casino — wherever it may be — crank up “Roving Gambler” and hope your 2 a.m. slot machine binge or your evening “re-learning” blackjack ends more amiably than with gunfire. Speaking of which, perhaps “Blackjack” deserves a slot on this playlist…

“Travelin’ Prayer” – Dolly Parton

The kick-off of one of Dolly Parton’s masterpieces, her 1999 bluegrass album The Grass Is Blue, “Travelin’ Prayer” was actually written by Billy Joel. Yes, that Billy Joel. The original, from 1973’s Piano Man, featured banjo playing by Eric Weissberg and Fred Heilbrun. So of course the tune stands up to the bluegrass treatment and then some, between Stuart Duncan’s haunting fiddle cadenza to begin the track, the rip roarin’ tempo and train whistle harmonies, and the lonesome feeling of being away from your baby while he travels the world. We’re gonna assume Dolly’s blessed pen and ink added the lyric: “And keep him away from planes / cause my baby hates to fly!”

“Road to Columbus” – Kenny Baker

Growing up this writer frequented a bluegrass jam in Granville, Ohio, about 25 miles east of the state’s capital, Columbus. Like clockwork, every week as the jam wound down around noon on Wednesdays, Troy Herdman — a local bluegrass community stalwart, Doc Watson-style flatpicker, and mentor of many who lived in or around Columbus — would call this tune. Everyone would chuckle, and we’d play “Road to Columbus” as everyone, but especially Troy, hit the road to Columbus. 

Herdman passed away last week at the age of 91. I certainly wouldn’t be the musician I was today if it wasn’t for Troy, and I know quite a few others who would say the same. So no matter where I travel, I always keep “Road to Columbus” nearby. Especially when I’m headed home to Ohio.

Many pickers speculate over whether Kenny Baker and Bill Monroe were referencing Columbus, Ohio, or Columbus, Indiana. But, according to Roland White — who introduces the song with an anecdote from his time on the road with Monroe — it’s about Ohio. For this Ohioan, that’s confirmation enough!

“That’s How I Got to Memphis” – Tom T. Hall

His own recording of one of his most popular hits may sound more like straight up and down country than ‘grass, but even the most casual fan of Tom T. Hall knows that this Bluegrass Hall of Famer is bluegrass to his core. If you’re headed down I-40 from Nashville — or, really, towards Memphis from any direction, no matter how direct or circuitous, this song is a must-add for your road trip playlist.

“Where Rainbows Never Die” – The SteelDrivers

This song is about a decidedly different kind of journey, not often referred to as a “vacation,” but even so it’s a poignant, encouraging, and downright delicious song to background any journey. If you’re road weary — or life weary — “Where Rainbows Never Die” is a certified pick-me-up that doesn’t shy away from reality, like the grit and coarseness in Chris Stapleton’s lead vocal wrapping you in its warmth. There’s a comfort in life not being sugar-coated — and in knowing somewhere, west of where the sun sets, rainbows never die.

“Home Sweet Home” – Flatt & Scruggs

Home never feels so sweet as when you’ve just returned after a long, restful, relaxing vacation. So we’ll close our summer vacation playlist with Flatt & Scruggs’ rendition of this tune pulled directly from the American songbook, “Home Sweet Home.” We hope a banjo roll always greets you at your door, and if not, this playlist will at least cover that for you. Wherever you roam, there’s no place like home! And no music like bluegrass.

Editor’s Note: Check out our follow up playlist, Take the Journey: 17 Songs for a Sunny and Warm Summer Vacation

LISTEN: Cameron Knowler, “Done Gone”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Cameron Knowler
Hometown: Yuma, Arizona & Houston, Texas
Song: “Done Gone”
Album: Places of Consequence
Release Date: July 16, 2021
Label: American Dreams

In Their Words: “‘Done Gone’ exists as a mission statement for the album: examining early fiddle music etymologically, rendering it meditatively, with a slow tempo and low tuning. In some ways, this is meant to problematize the history of flatpicked guitar, wherein guitarists learn fiddle tunes from other guitarists as opposed to fiddlers. This version borrows from a number of early fiddle sources while paying homage to my hero, Norman Blake, whose guitar playing is a broad synthesis of early country music, while pushing far beyond the scope of the genre’s canon. Recorded on a late ’30s plywood guitar, I hope the listener is directed toward the inconsistent and unwieldy qualities of the instrument, a factor that shapes the performance just as much as my sources. This track is in conversation with an Easter egg found on the record.” — Cameron Knowler

Photo credit: Laura Lee Blackburn

Tim O’Brien Sings of American Life, Then and Now, on ‘He Walked On’ (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

Tim O’Brien’s latest album, He Walked On, explores the many realities and histories of what it means and what it has meant to be American. With his well-known ability to tell a story through song and his less recognized, but equally powerful ability to pick and perform covers, O’Brien shares intimate and intriguing stories including the traditions of the Irish Travellers living in the U.S., Volga German immigrants turned sodbusters, or Thomas Jefferson’s children birthed by his slave, Sally Hemings.

Such stories and topics are not uncommon for O’Brien to write about, but in the wake of the murder of George Floyd and the protests that followed, as well as the Black Lives Matter movement, these songs feel even more topical and personal. His music is often presented with a lightheartedness that settles the listener and reminds them not to take themselves too seriously. And while some of that can still be found here, there is a somber tone that reflects the state of the country today. He’s joined on the album by bassist Mike Bub, drummer Pete Abbott, fiddler Shad Cobb, and vocalist (and fiancée) Jan Fabricius.

In the first of a two-part interview, BGS catches up with O’Brien, our Artist of the Month for July, to discuss the songs from He Walked On. (Editor’s note: Read part two here.)

BGS: The songs on this album speak to a lot of current events and the theme is more “political” than some of your previous work — although I don’t like thinking of human rights issues as being political.

TO: Yeah, they are politics nowadays. I think that the artist’s job is to reflect and respond to what’s going on around you and in your life. I don’t know anybody that creates original stuff who’s not doing that. Of course, this is an exceptional year for that. There’s a lot of things going on that were highly, highly provocative such as the Black Lives Matter movement and the pandemic itself and the way the politics entered into that, which was unfortunate. And then related to that is paying attention to history, the developments of technology, and how it affects society. That’s where songs like “Nervous” came from and they’re not “political,” but they’re kind of a report on the state of humanity.

You’ve often written about your experience in the modern world and talked about technology before but usually with a humorous tone. When I heard “Nervous” and “Pushing on Buttons,” it made me think of “Phantom Phone Call” from Chameleon.

You know, actually, I think one of the saddest things I’ve ever written is “Pushing on Buttons.”

Yeah, that’s what I was getting at. There’s usually a lot of whimsy when you’re talking about modern stuff, but “Pushing on Buttons” is pretty somber.

Yeah, I almost left it off because I thought, “Nobody wants to hear how sad this is.” But I was able to get Chris Scruggs in the studio and said, “I ought to cut this song so let’s make it like a Hank Williams number, if I can.”

The tone on the album felt more serious, in general, than your previous work. Do you feel that way?

Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t know how it will ring with everybody, but I felt like this was the thing to do. The Black Lives Matter movement is another step on a long road of reckoning with our history and the racial divide in this country. When stuff gets thrown up in the air like it did with George Floyd it’s time to look at all that’s been going on from day one and try to make sense of it. I could have written these songs like “When You Pray” and “Can You See Me, Sister?” any time. But it was staring me in the face much more so this year. Whimsy is good and all, but I couldn’t ignore these things.

But, in general, I try to stay light on my feet and that’s more of the tone of “When You Pray, Move Your Feet” which is a pretty happy song in a lot of ways. And I hope that means something. “He Walked On” is like, well, the only way to really get through this is just to try and notice the good. Notice when it’s really good and when you don’t just keep going and try to find it again. So it is sort of a mission statement for living in the United States. You have people doing their various jobs — farming, or trading mules, or coal mining, or looking at a computer — and we’re all kind of looking for the same things. It’s nice to have somebody to share your love with and a roof over your head. It’s nice to help other people find that as you’re going along to help yourself.

Songs like “He Walked On” or “Can You See Me, Sister?” — like a lot of songs that you’ve written — are told from a different perspective than your own life experience. How do you approach writing those stories in particular?

I don’t know. Maybe my age is telling me to look at it in different ways. But I don’t know that I was conscious about trying to write differently. Back working with Darrell Scott, I realized that he had so much personal detail in his songs and it made them more universal. Which is counterintuitive, but I’ve noticed that that’s the case. So, “He Walked On” is about changing your perspective and getting a glimpse of the divine. We’re not always paying attention but about one percent of my time, I wake up and go “gee, look at that” and really appreciate it and really be present and in the moment.

In the case of “Can You See Me, Sister?” it was such a fascinating story. I kind of knew about Sally Hemings and Thomas Jefferson because in the early days of Hot Rize, we played in Charlottesville, Virginia. A bluegrass fan brought us around to Monticello and took us on a personal tour. Jefferson is a really interesting character in American history in so many ways, but you and I can relate to him in that he was a fiddler. He was really interested in old-time fiddling. He played tunes like “Money Musk” and they have his handwritten transcriptions of some of these tunes at Monticello. He was a renaissance man — an artist, a writer — and apparently he carried a pocket fiddle around with him. He had a little mini-fiddle you could put in your overcoat pocket.

So I had known some about him but I recently learned more about the children he had with Sally Hemings. It was a great loss for him when his wife [Martha Jefferson] died. He promised her he wouldn’t get remarried and he didn’t. But he turned to Sally Hemings, who had been a slave at Monticello and was brought to France to nanny his daughter. She birthed at least six of Jefferson’s children and I hadn’t realized until recently that a couple of them passed as white and lived their adult lives in white society.

The decision to have a spoken word introduction to “Can You See Me, Sister?” was interesting. I don’t remember ever hearing one in any of your other songs.

Mike Bub brought it up because when I sent the demos around he heard it and liked it, and then I told him what it was about. He said, “Wow, there’s a lot more punch to it when you know what it’s about.” He said most of the radio listeners wouldn’t know that so he recommended having some kind of explanation. It was a conscious choice and it was interesting to write. I don’t usually  write stage dialogue. I guess I hone it as I go and I get more succinct and more pointed and more efficient with it as I learn. But this was before I ever performed it on stage. I wanted to have the right introduction that would say what needed to be said; no more and no less.

What inspired you to write “See You at the Funeral?”

“See You at the Funeral” is kind of an odd one. It’s about Irish Travellers in America, which is a subset of American society that’s kind of unknown. The song is about the once-yearly reunion in Nashville of the greater clan of the Sherlocks families and their relatives. They have all their funerals and weddings for the year in one week so everybody can be there and then they scatter and go do their own thing. … It’s all the happy parts and the sad parts and the big ball of wax. By the end of that week, you would have a sense of where you come from, who you are, and what’s next. Those rituals are part of what helps us get by. That’s Americana. It’s from a lesser-known part of our history and our society. That is the part that I’m interested in. And if it means something to me, maybe I can make it into something to someone else.

What about some of the covers like “Sod Buster”?

Jan’s family is from western Kansas and her great-grandfather was another type of migrant. Their background is what they call Volga German; they were German farmers that got recruited by Catherine the Great of Russia to farm wheat on the Volga River. Then the politics changed and they were going to have to serve in the Russian army. That’s when everybody started coming to the American plains. The railroads had started and they were advertising for people to move. Her great-grandfather was one of the earliest sodbusters in the late 1800s.

It’s a Bill Caswell song that I just love and I ended up talking to him about it and he said, “Oh, yeah, that’s about my grandfather. He was out there at that time and plowed with a team of horses.” I love Bill Caswell and I love this song. And I wondered why nobody had yet recorded it. So we worked it up and it means something because of Jan’s connection. We go out there sometimes and I really love being out in someplace exotic like that. I grew up where there’s hills everywhere and being on an absolute flat plain with the sky and the grass is an amazing thing.

I’ve always admired how much of a personal connection to all of your music that you have. It all feels very intentional.

John Hartford gave good advice to Hot Rize one time. He said, “You don’t want to get famous doing something you don’t like doing.” So I want to try to aim for the intersection of what people might enjoy and what I’m interested in and it ends up attracting people that think like me. I’m a bit of a bleeding heart liberal, if we got down to it. But I try to mostly put something out that people could enjoy and then maybe give them something to think about and maybe they’ll think poorly of it, or maybe they’ll change. You know, that’s a Buddhist thing. You work towards conscious change. Change and betterment and creativity. You just try to find your opening and hopefully I’ve found a few here.

(Editor’s Note: Read the second half of our interview with Tim O’Brien here.)

Photo courtesy of Tim O’Brien

WATCH: Brad Reid, “Northumberland Shores”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Brad Reid
Hometown: Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada
Song: “Northumberland Shores”
Album: NEW Scotland

In Their Words: “This tune has pretty much become a meditation for me. Playing it gives me a sense of feeling calm and grounded, and I think the new video really enhances those feelings for the viewer. There’s the common element of feeling isolated, which I think everyone can relate to these days, and the healing benefits of being among nature. The ocean is also symbolic of how my Scottish ancestors came to America, and the tradition of fiddle playing that I grew up with.” — Brad Reid

Photo credit: Adele Beaton

Returning With ‘Cycles,’ Rachel Baiman Works Through the Stories of Women

Posted on by Editor

Rachel Baiman has never been afraid to delve head first into speaking her mind on the state of the world through her music. But with her new project Cycles, she approaches that task through a new lens focused on narratives that spark empathy in this era of entrenched polarization. Recorded in Melbourne, Australia, and steeped in its indie rock influences, she leans into a new sonic landscape with ease, collaborating with co-producer and Oh Pep! front woman Olivia Hally.

“This album started with the title song ‘Cycles,’ which was a co-write between me and Olivia,” Baiman says. “That happened around 2018 when she was in Nashville. I had been a big fan of hers for a long time. She asked if I would want to write with her when she was in town and I was like, ‘Absolutely, that is my dream.’ So we had that one writing session and it was a magical musical experience. It was kind of like going on a date, like an amazing first date. Because there was such a great working connection, I asked if she would want to co-produce the whole record.”

During her long-awaited first tour since early 2020, Baiman called in to BGS.

BGS: This album takes a bit of a departure from earlier bluegrass leanings. What has been influencing your sound these days?

Baiman: This album in particular was really influenced by the Americana and indie rock sounds coming out of Melbourne and that is what led me to want to work with Olivia Hally. There are a lot of artists and bands that I love from that town in this exciting roots music scene. Oh Pep! obviously was an influence on this record since Olivia had such a hand in it. But also I love Courtney Barnett, Dan Parsons, and The Maes. There are so many cool bands coming out of that scene. That was the impetus for going for that soundscape. Also, a lot of the more contemporary artists that I have been listening to are more in that rock and grunge vibe (probably more so than I would want to get to myself). I’m a huge Lilly Hiatt fan and Margaret Glasmeade as well.

You collaborated with amazing women on this record. Was that an intentional choice?

Yeah I’m always wanting to work with the right people first and foremost, but I definitely was thinking about how I could work with more women. Especially for the thematic nature of the record. A lot of it is written about women’s stories and about family. I did think it would be really cool to work with a female producer and when Olivia and I hit it off, I knew it would be awesome. It did change the environment. I felt very comfortable and at ease in the studio, which ideally you always want to be.

But when you are working with someone who you feel a little intimidated by, that can change the dynamic and limit your free flow of ideas. I am a huge fan of Olivia’s so that easily could have been the case but the dynamic was such that she made it feel very, very comfortable. There was no ego or shooting down of ideas. I think that when you are a woman in a male-dominated space, even if people are trying to make you feel comfortable, there is always going to be a layer of feeling like you are the outsider or that you have to prove yourself. Having that removed from the situation really did make a huge difference.

Bree Hartley is an incredible drummer. She was a rock star in this situation because we actually had to record all of the drums first because of a studio mishap. That’s a really crazy way to make a record. She had to go in there and make 12 drum tracks to nothing. She had one chance and that’s what we had to use and she nailed it. And Shani Gandhi is obviously such a rock star engineer. I was almost shy to reach out to her because she is so established. I was really stoked that she was into the project and she did an amazing job mixing it. Those are some of the chief players and all of them stand out in their fields.

This question is inspired by Cycle’s first single, “Joke’s On Me.” I read that you’d had a bummer of an experience in your music career that inspired this song. Can you talk about what some of the challenges in the music industry are and what you might change if you could?

That’s such a big question. I think a lot of the challenges honestly stem from the way that people in the country are treated when they don’t have a regular 9 to 5 job with benefits. Obviously healthcare is a huge challenge. Any kind of retirement plan is a huge challenge. Just having those basic safety nets that make you feel like if something goes wrong, you won’t be out on the streets and that your basic human needs are met, like health care. That is a countrywide systemic issue. I wish that everyone had access to that because it would dramatically change the experience of freelancing or being an artist.

On the artist side, everyone is trying to create art that is new and beautiful or that innovates. On the business side, innovation is scary because people don’t have a model. There is always going to be a disconnect between the art and the commodification of the art. When you are trying to make a living off of art, you have to have team members that need to make money off of you. …

For me, [I was] getting dumped from a booking agency for no reason other than they were merging and the people at the top of the new company decided I wasn’t making them enough money. It was hard because I knew I had a new record. I knew I needed one more record cycle and I could be there, just nine more months basically. I think that my personal agent would have kept going but he didn’t have a choice. You become a commodity because they aren’t looking at the art and thinking about ideas you have for the next record, they don’t care. They are like, “I looked at the spreadsheet and you didn’t make enough, bye!” I don’t have any big solution, but I do think there are some things we can do as a country to make sure that everyone is doing ok.

You are very vocal about what you think and feel. What is your experience like in speaking your mind through your art about the state of the world?

It can be hard. It is similar to everything in this country right now. It is really polarizing. A lot of people do rally behind it and feel heard and seen and want to be supportive of it. And then there are a lot of people who get mad. I’m trying to think about what makes people empathize with each other. It is a different landscape than it was in 2017. When I put out Shame, I felt like it was a really important message to go out at the time. I felt like this needed to be said and there wasn’t a ton of political music happening at that time. I think people really appreciated that, if they felt like they needed to be heard in that way. I have had a lot of women reach out and say that album has been really helpful to them. That is super meaningful to me.

Now I feel like we have spent four years screaming at each other and everybody knows the sides. We know the talking points, like everything has been said a thousand times. When I was writing the material for this new album I was trying to get below that layer of shouting and work through stories and people. I think generally people can empathize and understand each other as humans. It is just that we get immediately triggered by certain talking points and shut down. I’m not trying to say, “Kumbaya, we are all one.” There are some serious problems. It is about wanting to reach people on an emotional level. It is hard to disagree with someone’s personal experience.

You have been an advocate for mental health and the power of art and music to help out in times of need. How does creating help with your mental health?

It is a necessity for me in terms of my mental health. Some people have strategic ways that they work on their writing and I think that is great. I should probably do it. But for me it has always been haphazard. I have a really strong feeling or a really strong push and then I need to write it down. It needs to get out. It is very therapeutic. There is something about being able to create something new that feels important. I’m essentially a little bit addicted to that. There is so much negativity and destruction and bad news all the time. For me, my anxiety lives in the global news and politics. That is what triggers me. People have different things that get them down but for me it is very much the state of the world.

Creating acts as a real counterbalance when I feel like I can put something beautiful into the world. Especially when I get to do that with a band and go record it and see it come to its full realized potential. It is such a magical feeling because you are actually creating something instead of tearing something down or watching something or someone being torn down. Playing live shows and having that connection and being able to be a part of that magical moment that happens with live music, I didn’t even realize how much it meant until we got to play the first show after the pandemic and I was like, “WOW, I feel like a piece of me has returned.”

Photo credit: Natia Cinco

John Reischman’s “Salt Spring,” Tune of a New Old-Time Generation

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The “bluegrass songbook,” a suitably vague though well-known concept in bluegrass and old-time circles today, is a phrase that references the collective of songs and tunes most popular and most played by the community that makes up bluegrass and old-time music. Most of the melodies included in this informal — though often gatekept and debated — canon have well established origins, from source recordings, legendary writers and composers, famous performances, and so on. Even so, it’s difficult to trace each and every Bluegrass Album Band hit or Del McCoury favorite back to the beginning, when it was first being adopted and popularized among jam circles, as fiddle tunes, by and for laypeople as much as the performing professionals. 

With material by forebears like Flatt & Scruggs (“Foggy Mountain Breakdown” to “It Ain’t Me Babe”) or Bill Monroe (“Muleskinner Blues” to “Monroe’s Hornpipe”) or the Stanley Brothers (“Ridin’ that Midnight Train” to “Little Maggie”), the Osborne Brothers, Hazel & Alice, Reno & Smiley, and on down the line, it’s not so much a question of why or how their charming, archetypical songs made it to open mics and festival parking lot jams. But in modern times, as in bluegrass days of yore, just as many new, contemporary tunes, songs, lyrics, and melodies are being translated from professional studio recordings, radio singles, and on-stage hits to sing-alongs, play-alongs, and day-to-day jam fodder. And the process by which this happens is, part and parcel, what bluegrass and old-time are all about.

How did “Rebecca” become an almost meme-level instrumental in the past fifteen years? How did Frank Wakefield know that we needed a “New Camptown Races?” How many millennial and Gen Z pickers learned “Ode to a Butterfly” or “Jessamyn’s Reel” note for note? Each modern adoption into the bluegrass songbook, into that unflappable canon, is an idiosyncratic marvel unto itself — and perhaps no modern, original instrumental tune encapsulates this phenomenon better than John Reischman’s “Salt Spring.”

Being a picker myself, I first learned “Salt Spring” in Nashville in perhaps 2012 or 2013, taught to me by fiddlers who encountered the melody from John himself — and through the bluegrass and old-time camp scene in which he’s pretty much a ubiquitous figure, especially on the West Coast, where he lives and grew up. At that point, the song was regarded as a Colorado-grass staple, transplanted east by a regional genre phenotype that celebrates and capitalizes on timeless, sometimes ancient-sounding aesthetics played with chamber music-level intricacies and techniques. The forlorn, winsome — though simple — chord progression in the A part give way to a longing, pensive, and momentum-building B part — and no matter how “Salt Spring” is rendered, as an “everyone play at once” old-time jam song, or a thoughtful chamber-grass slow burn built to a raucous, defiant end, or as a no-holds-barred SPBGMA style MASH number, it’s a chameleonic composition, allowing itself to fit into every single context in which it’s applied. 

“Salt Spring” is truly the instrumental song of the post-Nickel Creek, post-Crooked Still, post-grass generation. As string band genre aesthetics dissolve in the global music marketplace, songs like “Salt Spring” typify this generation’s longing for music that feels honest, true, and real as much as it’s approachable, whimsical, and joyful; songs that celebrate the traditions that became the bedrock of these musics, without being predicated upon militaristic and arbitrary rules to “protect” or propagate those traditions. 

And, though modest to a fault, unassuming, and generally pretty subdued as a person and performer, Reischman has felt this phenomena metamorphosing his composition all along. With his first recording of “Salt Spring” available digitally and writ large, he’s communicating to everyone who loves the song that yes, he knows what it means to us, what it’s become, and what it could grow into still. It’s no wonder then, that when putting together the roster for this new recording and iteration of the track, that he didn’t simply call on his band, the Jaybirds, but he looked to the very generation that’s chosen “Salt Spring” as its own with Molly Tuttle on guitar, Alex Hargreaves on fiddle, Allison de Groot on clawhammer banjo, and Max Schwartz on bass.

A veteran of The Good Ol’ Persons, the Tony Rice Unit, and many other seminal acts of his own generation and time, Reischman knows firsthand the value of cross-generational knowledge sharing and his new album, New Time & Old Acoustic demonstrates this ethos in both conscious and subliminal ways. “Salt Spring” is a perfect distillation of these values and it’s truly fitting, as the tune will forever be enshrined and ensconced in the indelible, if not somewhat squirrelly and subjective, bluegrass and old-time songbook and canon.

(Editor’s note: New Time & Old Acoustic is available for pre-order now.)

Photo courtesy of the artist.

WATCH: André Dal, “Dal’s Breakdown”

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Artist: André Dal
Hometown: Lisbon, Portugal
Song: “Dal’s Breakdown”
Album: Beyond the Tagus River
Release Date: June 2021

In Their Words: “‘Dal’s Breakdown’ is an uptempo banjo tune that includes myself on banjo, Gil Pereira (PT) on upright bass, Bob Hamilton (USA) on guitar, Dave Bagdade (USA) on mandolin, Jeroen Schmohl (NL) on dobro and Meade Richter (USA) on fiddle. I first came up with the melody while looking for a breakdown style of tune. My good friend, Hildebrando Soares, came up with the idea for a homemade video inspired by what all bluegrass musicians want, which is to play all day, and on what all bluegrass musicians’ wives want, which is for their husbands to stop playing and do their household tasks.” — André Dal

Photo credit: Hildebrando Soares

MIXTAPE: JP Harris’ Darkness From the Mountain (Old-Time Appalachian Tunes & Ballads Every Metalhead Should Know)

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As a lifelong metalhead myself, upon entering the haunting annals of the old-time canon, I found an instant love for the dissonant minor key and modal sounds of the darker side of Appalachian music. Laugh you may, but the Mixtape that follows will have the most devout of Hessian headbanging and throwing up the horns like you’re at a Megadeth show in 1989.

There is something about heavy metal I just can’t shake. Even as I aged, developed a wider taste in (primarily) traditional music, and became decidedly less tolerant of 100-decibel live shows, I have never lost my love for the heaviest of heavy music. From the cannabis-fueled sludge of Sleep, the dive-bombing screech of Judas Priest, or the melodic and epic ride of an At the Gates record, some days just call for the auditory brutality of metal.

Alas, my eardrums aren’t what they used to be after more than a decade of touring as “the loudest country band on earth,” squealing feedback from half-busted honky-tonk sound systems notwithstanding. And so I turn to the Appalachian fiddle tunes and ballads that send the same, exhilarating chill down my spine as Slayer’s “Raining Blood,” quenching the carnal thirst for humankind’s more sinister sounds. Shred on, mighty metal warriors…just maybe without a wall of guitar amps… – JP Harris

Chance McCoy & the Appalachian Stringband – “Yew Piney Mountain”

Originating in West Virginia, in mountains full of eerie lore and tales of wandering devils, imagine yourself conjuring thunder from a mountaintop to destroy the enemy hordes.

Bruce Molsky – “Blackberry Blossom”

To my knowledge a tune from the Civil War, this one elicits battlefield visions of fear and carnage, its hectic and dissonant melody as disorienting as the Battle of Cheat Mountain.

The Macrae Sisters – “Highlander’s Farewell”

Most likely written by a Scottish warrior queen whilst galloping toward the Saxon invaders, whom she promptly whooped thoroughly.

Brad Leftwich – “Death’s Dark Train”

The bible, according to Appalachian song tradition, is pretty much all about death. Better get ready, Hezekiah.

EC and Orna Ball – “Trials, Troubles, Tribulations”

I rest my case. Beasts with horns?! One with seven, one with TEN?! If this isn’t Norwegian Black Metal content I don’t know what is.

Any Old Time Stringband – “Falls of Richmond / Camp Chase”

I like to think of this recording similarly to an Iron Maiden tune, near-operatic in its emotive acts, dark at first then rising to the epic victory. “Camp Chase” is like a finger-tapping twin guitar solo on repeat.

Rhys Jones & Christina Wheeler – “Hog-Eyed Man”

I don’t know what the hell a “hog-eyed man” is, but sounds like some backwoods pig-devil the Pentecostals keep in a gimp dungeon, brought out to devour the souls of non-believers. And the melody fits the bill. Sorry for the nightmares.

Dock Boggs – “Bright Sunny South”

As any brave metal warrior would, the 19th Century soldier narrating is prepared for bloodshed, provision, and strife. “As I shoulder my musket and billet my sword.”

Old Sledge – “Danville Girl”

Okay, okay…no demons, fantasy warriors, or biblical death here…but it’d make a good soundtrack to a fast crime scene escape.

Paul Brown – “Brushy Fork of John’s Creek”

Paul’s eerie banjo version could easily be the intro to a symphonic Scandinavian metal power ballad. Show me the lie.

Adam Hurt – “John Riley the Shepherd / Brushy Fork of John’s Creek”

If the dudes from Sleep ever took up droning, spaced-out desert rock on acoustic instruments, pretty sure this would be the first single.

Dirk Powell – “Raleigh and Spencer”

Uh, yeah…the Hessians have left the Metallica show in ’87, drunk and high on rock energy, and upon discovering the beer store closed, have burned the entire town down in wild abandon.

Bruce Greene and Loy McWhirter – “Doleful Warning”

Death by silver dagger seemed to be a popular modus operandi back in the day. Mutual suicide spawned from heartbreak and simple misunderstandings usually got the point across pretty clearly as well.

Gary Remal Malkin – “Napolean’s Retreat”

See: onward into battle. Run little man, run.

Foghorn Stringband – Fine Times at Our House

Another from the original spirit-conjurers The Hammons Family, this dizzying tune surely caused hillbilly hypnosis akin to a zombie curse.

Tatiana Hargreaves – Shaking Down the Acorns

Y’all remember the movie Willow? I think the title refers to those acorns he used to turn the evil Queen Bavmorda’s hand to stone. Leather armor would be a good look whilst jamming this one.

Nate Leath – “Greasy Coat”

For those who know the Björler Brothers (the Swedish death metal guitarists behind the sound of At the Gates and The Haunted), tell me you can’t hear them shredding this tune a new one.

Rayna Gellert – “Ways of the World”

Get your copper chest piece, battle axe, and blue face paint out for this one, and let the ram’s horn sound across the land (insert galloping hooves here)…

Tom, Brad & Alice – “Glory in the Meetinghouse”

I’m not sure what kind of “glory” they were invoking to this tune in the meetinghouse, but sounds like bloodletting and snake stuff to me.

Evie Ladin and Rhys Jones – “Paddy on the Handcar”

Journeying across the post-apocalyptic wasteland following the thermonuclear war, traveling by handcar in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome fashion, this one helps to calm the mind as you ponder how the end of civilization could’ve possibly been avoided.

Photo Credit: Libby Danforth

LISTEN: The Faux Paws, “Fourth Decade”

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Artist: The Faux Paws
Hometown: Brattleboro, Vermont
Song: “Fourth Decade”
Album: The Faux Paws
Release Date: August 27, 2021
Label: Great Bear Records

In Their Words: “‘Fourth Decade’ was written by Noah to celebrate a friend’s milestone birthday. We workshopped this tune for a while before finally settling on the instrumentation: fiddle with double clawhammer banjos! And before you ask, these are cooperative banjos, not the violently competitive variety. The three of us have played a lot of dance music over the years — contra, square, cajun, swing, etc. — and we tried to capture that energy and connection on this track.” — Andrew VanNorstrand, The Faux Paws

The Faux Paws · 01 Fourth Decade

Photo credit: Louise Bichan