Tag: fiddle

Bluegrass Memoirs: The Earl Scruggs Celebration (Part 3)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s note: Read part one of Neil V. Rosenberg’s Bluegrass Memoir on the Earl Scruggs Celebration of 1987 here. Read part two here.)

Boiling Springs, NC on Saturday, September 26, 1987: My workshop in the Gardner-Webb College Library with Snuffy Jenkins, Pappy Sherrill and the Hired Hands ended at 4:30 that afternoon when Dan X. Padgett presented Snuffy with a hat. From my diary:

Afterward I hung around and listened for a while to the Hired Hands’ young banjo picker Randy Lucas play the Bach “Bourrée,” “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” and another classical piece expertly on the banjo.

Here’s a nice example, from Bill’s Pickin’ Parlor, of Randy’s recent work in this milieu:

Then, supper time came.

I went for some barbecue (big regional difference thing — this barbecue was red, vinegary; with shredded pork) with Tom [Hanchett] and Carol [Sawyer] and then was kind of enticed away by Dan X Padgett…

I’d met Padgett the afternoon prior, when I first arrived in Boiling Springs; a respected local banjo elder, he was the teacher of the young banjo player in Horace Scruggs’ band whom I’d met earlier today. Padgett had a long and interesting career, with deep connections to Earl Scruggs and Snuffy Jenkins, as well as memories of an earlier generation of banjo greats. He was interviewed for the Earl Scruggs Center by Craig Havighurst in 2010. 

I went with him…

…to his car (an old Cadillac) to look at various memorabilia like photos of him with various important country and bluegrass people. He also showed me a very worn copy of the very first F&S songbook and when I expressed a strong interest in copying it he loaned it to me. I also talked with him about the possibility of obtaining a banjo like one he played during the afternoon, a miniature Mastertone about the size of a mandolin with an actual tone ring, flange, and resonator. He said he’d see about it and we ended up standing at his trunk trying out various instruments. 

I was picking away on “St. Anne’s Reel” when I noticed there were some people standing around me, and when I finished and looked around there was Doug Dillard looking at me with that big smile. Quite an introduction!

In an edition of the Shelby Star a week or so earlier, Joe DePriest wrote of Dillard’s association with Earl Scruggs, telling how in 1953 the Salem, Missouri teen first heard “Earl’s Breakdown” on the car radio. It hit him so hard “he ran off the road into a ditch.” Dillard got his folks to take him to Scruggs’s Nashville home. “We knocked on the door, and he came, and we asked him to put some Scruggs tuners on my banjo. He invited us in.”

A newspaper clipping from a 1987 edition of the ‘Shelby Star’ of an article by Joe DePriest on Doug Dillard

Earl welcomed banjo pickers to his home, especially if they wanted Scruggs Pegs. In the “Suggestions for Banjo Beginners” on the first page of Flatt & Scruggs Picture Album — Hymn and Songbook from 1958, Earl invited those interested to contact him in Nashville, and many did:

The first page of the 1958 ‘Flatt & Scruggs Picture Album — Hymn and Songbook’

In 1962 Doug and his brother Rodney went with their band The Dillards to LA, where they were “discovered” at the Hollywood folk club The Ash Grove. With best-selling Elektra LPs, they toured extensively in the West and appeared on CBS’s The Andy Griffith Show as “the Darling Family.” 

In 1966 Doug left The Dillards and ventured into what would soon be called “country-rock,” touring with the Byrds and forming a band with former Byrd, Gene Clark. Dillard’s banjo playing had been strongly shaped by his close listening to Scruggs. In the ’60s when players like Bill Keith and Eric Weissberg were pushing banjo boundaries in bluegrass, Doug was pushing boundaries in a different way by finding a place for Scruggs-style banjo in rock. He fitted solid, straight-ahead rolls into pieces like Gene Clark’s “The Radio Song”: 

Dillard was heard often on popular Hollywood studio recordings and movie soundtracks during the ’70s. He even had on-screen roles in Robin Williams’ Popeye and Bette Midler’s The Rose.

DePriest’s article quoted Dillard: “During all this time, ‘I never said goodbye to bluegrass.'” He moved to Nashville in 1983 and started a band. 

The bluegrass music business was booming in Nashville. A bunch of young pickers were there, touring in bands and doing studio sessions. New Grass Revival featured newcomers Bela Fleck and Pat Flynn; John Hartford, Mark O’Connor, Jerry Douglas — all were in town. The Nashville Bluegrass Band started in 1984; that year Ricky Skaggs won a Grammy for his version of Monroe’s “Wheel Hoss.” Up in the Gulch district, between the Opry and Vanderbilt, the Station Inn was serving bluegrass seven nights a week.

I was introduced to the Doug Dillard Band this afternoon right there where Dan X Padgett and I had been jamming. His four-piece outfit drew from a pool of talented bluegrass musicians. 

Rhythm guitarist, vocalist and emcee Ginger Boatwright was a seasoned veteran. During the ’70s she’d toured and recorded with Red White and Blue(grass), and later formed The Bushwackers, an all-female group that began as the house band at Nashville’s Old Time Picking Parlor. Her story is told well in Murphy Hicks Henry’s book Pretty Good for a Girl: Women in Bluegrass. Henry calls her “The first ‘modern’ woman in bluegrass” alluding to her folk revival roots, her styles of humor and dress, and, most importantly, “a softer, smoother, more lyrical quality” of singing.

Having a second guitar as a regular lead instrument in a four-piece band was uncommon at this time. When I met Doug’s young lead guitarist I was surprised to discover he was the son of Lamar Grier, whom I’d hung out with twenty years earlier when he was a Blue Grass Boy. David Grier was 26. He’d studied the lead guitar work of Clarence White (there’s a photo of him with White in Bluegrass Odyssey), Tony Rice, and Doc Watson. He was already an experienced pro.

Playing the electric bass, which was unusual for the time, was Roger Rasnake, a singer-songwriter from Bristol on the Tennessee-Virginia border.

In 1986 Flying Fish released this band’s first album, What’s That? (FF 377). Here’s the title cut. The band is augmented to six pieces by Vassar Clements on violin and Bobby Clark on mandolin; both played on the album. What we see and hear first is Ginger’s dynamic emcee work. Doug’s composition shows a banjo picker who knew fiddle music — a melodic “A” section followed by a punching Scruggs-style “B” part. 

Rasnake made a point of telling me Roland White had sent his regards. 

Roland was an old California friend, whom I’d met in 1964 and gotten to know when he was playing with Monroe. He’d just joined the Nashville Bluegrass Band. It was a pleasant surprise to hear from him.

Roger wanted to buy a copy of my book, so I took him up to the library and he bought one which I autographed. I signed several others during the day, including several that people brought with them.

I rested a bit before heading over to Gardner-Webb’s Lutz-Yelton Convocation Center. 

That evening was the Doug Dillard concert in the gym. It was good, with Ginger Boatwright doing the MC work, Lamar Grier’s son David picking some nice lead guitar, and good singing by Roger, Doug, and Ginger. 

Rasnake did one of his own songs from their album, “Endless Highway.” 

It’s familiar today because Alison Krauss covered it in her 1990 album, I’ve Got That Old Feeling.

There was a grand finale at the end with picking by Horace and the boys, and also fiddler Pee Wee Davis, whom I heard briefly in the back room for a while. I bought a souvenir photo of the Dillards with Andy Griffith. Home and in bed by 11.

On Sunday morning:

Up and away by 7:30, carried my bags to Tom and Carol’s dorm. We hit the road and drove to Shelby where we went, on Joe’s advice, to the Pancake House, a local place on the strip which was sure to have livermush. We went in and sat at a table and when the menu came I eagerly perused it. Sure enough, at the top of the list on the right-hand side was “Livermush and Eggs.” And, in case I’d missed it, about halfway down the same list was “Eggs and Livermush.” So I ordered that and actually ate some. Very peppery, other than that not much taste and what there was didn’t really excite me. I mixed it with eggs, like one does with grits. Maybe it’ll help my banjo-picking, who knows.

In Chapel Hill I stayed the night with Tom and Carol and had a bit of time to visit friends and relations and buy a box of instant grits at a supermarket. Next day I was back home in Newfoundland, writing up my diary.

The weekend at the Earl Scruggs Celebration brought me face to face with a music culture in which bluegrass nestled. Seeing, hearing and talking with Snuffy, Pappy, Horace, and Dan put me in touch with generations older than mine, what Bartenstein has called “The Pioneers” and “The Builders” of this music. I feel fortunate to have seen, met and heard them all. Just as important for me was hearing new younger performers like Ginger Boatwright, David Grier, and Randy Lucas.

This was my first opportunity see my folk guitar hero, Etta Baker. It came near the start of her late-in-life performance career. In 1989 the North Carolina Arts Council gave her the North Carolina Folk Heritage Award; in 1991 she won an NEA National Heritage Fellowship. Wayne Martin produced her first CD, for Rounder, in 1991. Later she collaborated with Taj Mahal. Meanwhile Music Maker Relief Foundation, an organization “fighting to preserve American musical traditions,” gave her the support she needed to pursue her career as a musician up to her passing at the age of 93.

It was also my first time to see Doug Dillard. If Snuffy and Pappy personified the era when bluegrass emerged from old-time, Dillard’s new band blended the contemporary sounds of an era when classic, progressive, and newgrass elements were shaping and blending the sounds heard as bluegrass thrived in a festival-dominated scene. 

Instead of an alpha male lead singer/emcee/rhythm guitarist, he had an alpha female. Replacing the mandolin or fiddle one expected in a band with a banjo was an acoustic lead guitar. Instead of an old “doghouse” upright the bass player had an electric. The lead vocals were shared between male and female. Repertoire ranged from bluegrass classics through old pop and rock favorites to band member compositions. The group was touring widely. State of the art bluegrass, 1987.

So how did all this fit together for me? I recalled the start of my visit when Joe DePriest took Tom, Carol, and me to visit the Shelby graveyard. 

He showed us three graves: first that of Thomas Dixon, the local writer whose The Clansmen was turned by D.W. Griffith into The Birth of a Nation. Not far away was the grave of W.J. Cash, author of the immensely influential The Mind of the South. Joe and Tom pondered how the two men would have felt about being buried so close to each other; the image that sticks with me is one of Cash glaring at Dixon.

Joe gave us copies of the Greater Shelby Chamber of Commerce’s glossy full-color brochure, Shelby…it’s home. In it Thomas Dixon is identified as the author “whose novel Birth of a Nation became the first million-dollar movie” thus avoiding the fact that book and movie inspired the racist revival of the KKK. It describes Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist W.J. Cash simply as “author,” not mentioning his progressive stances in print against the Klan and Nazism.

Tom wondered, what if the paths of Cash (who lived in Boiling Springs) and the young Scruggs had crossed at the time? He told us:

Cash … thought that the South had no “Culture” to speak of — what would he have had to say about Scruggs’s contribution?

Joe took us to a third gravesite, that of a local Confederate colonel killed in a Civil War battle; after detailing that part of his life its headstone:

… describes him as a lover of the arts who twice rode by horseback all the way to a far-off northern city (Baltimore? New York?) in order to hear Jenny Lind sing. This tells you where Cash’s mind was when he spoke of Culture.

The Shelby brochure ended its historical section saying “Cleveland County has also produced two North Carolina governors and an ambassador, but our most famous son is country singer Earl Scruggs.”

So much for official culture in 1987! 

Gardner-Webb’s decision to honor Earl Scruggs reflected a shifting intellectual landscape. A local musician of humble origins — a mill worker — had taken on new meaning and significance because of his national and international recognition and popular culture success. He deserved honor and celebration in his home. I was glad to help.

I don’t know if there were any further Earl Scruggs Celebrations at Gardner-Webb, but today there’s an Earl Scruggs Center in Shelby, which is planning to hold its inaugural Earl Scruggs Music Festival in September 2022. 

(Editor’s note: Read part one of Neil V. Rosenberg’s Bluegrass Memoir on the Earl Scruggs Celebration of 1987 here. Read part two here.)

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Neil V. Rosenberg: Terri Thomson Rosenberg

Mandolin Orange Changes Its Name, Unveils New Video as Watchhouse

Posted on by Editor

The duo Mandolin Orange have surprised fans with a new video and a name change to Watchhouse. Band members Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz shared on social media, explaining how their former band name didn’t necessarily encapsulate their personal songs.

They wrote, in part, “This past year has been the first time we’ve stayed still since we were 21, and the pause gave us the opportunity to sit with ourselves and set intentions. We have long been burdened by the dichotomy between our band name and the music we strive to create — if you’ve heard the songs, you know they are personal. Now that we can see a future where music is a shared experience again, we’re defining the space we share with you on a stage or in your headphones, and making it one that welcomes our creativity and anyone who wants to listen.”

The band’s most recent project has been 2019’s Tides of a Teardrop, although Marlin released two instrumental albums earlier this year. To coincide with the announcement revealing Watchhouse, the band released a new video for the song, “Better Way,” produced by Josh Kaufman and released via Tiptoe Tiger Music / Thirty Tigers. Take a look:

Photo credit: Kendall Bailey

WATCH: John Mailander’s Forecast, “Returning”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: John Mailander’s Forecast
Hometown: San Diego, California
Song: “Returning”
Album: Look Closer
Release Date: May 7, 2021
Label: 9 Athens Music

In Their Words: “‘Returning’, the first track on our new album, came together on the first day of our session. To me, the track reflects some of what we were collectively feeling, playing in the same room together after so many months of isolation. We were all masked and spaced out the whole time, but the rediscovery of that connection and joy shined through. This track is kind of loosely a continuation of where our last album, Forecast, left off, but it also feels like a new beginning as each musician’s voice enters one at a time and joins together again. The animation was made by Anna Jane Lester. I think it’s a perfect visual accompaniment to the song, the way it moves forward with persistence through the changing seasons.” — John Mailander

Photo credit: Jake Faivre

Sara Watkins Finds a Dreamy Rhythm With ‘Under the Pepper Tree’

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

The Schinus molle — more commonly known as the California pepper tree — can grow up to 45 feet high and 50 feet wide, producing small yellow flowers and rose-colored berries, and bringing shade to everything within reach. For Nickel Creek originator Sara Watkins, the pepper tree brings about memories of family, youthful fun, and inspiration for her latest record, Under the Pepper Tree. Produced by Tyler Chester, the 15-song album is a personal project for Watkins, including songs from her own childhood alongside a few original compositions. Reuniting Nickel Creek, I’m With Her, and a range of guest performances, she tackles favorite songs such as “Pure Imagination” (from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) and “Blue Shadows on the Trail” (from The Three Amigos).

BGS caught up with Watkins from her California home to talk about the inspirations behind Under the Pepper Tree, and the experience of making a record like this during the COVID-19 pandemic.

BGS: Was the making of this album a different experience from those you’ve done in the past?

Watkins: Yeah, and not just because we did it during COVID. That was a huge appeal in working with Tyler Chester — he can play so many instruments so well. His musicality comes out on each instrument really well. Other than that, I knew early on that it would be necessary for the songs to weave together. As I was collecting these songs, realizing that so many of them are kind of dreamy and mellow, I wasn’t dealing with the typical balance of “up” songs, “down” songs, “sad” songs, “happy” songs, the way those things can affect the sequence of a normal album. Because of the nature of this material, a lot of the songs had a similar dreamy quality, so I thought by connecting them all, that would let the album kind of drift along, and hopefully sweep you up in a way that might not happen if they were all just 15 individual tracks. 

Before going in to record the project, we did a bit of a practice swing, just to see how the sequence might work together. We made some changes to the sequence and adjusted the transitions accordingly, so that everything went together as well as possible. This is the first time I’ve sequenced an album before going in to record, and I really enjoyed the result and how it affected the process throughout. It’s definitely something I’m going to bring with me into my future projects, even if I don’t do it exactly the same way. I’m going to consider it very seriously before starting records. 

How did getting to be home during the pandemic influence your day to day, and outlook on this album?

If affected it completely. I don’t think I would have made this record without the experience of just being home, and realizing that I needed some kind of rhythm, needed something that would tell me that today was passing. I’m new to being home, the way that all musicians are. That, combined with having a toddler now, was a new experience. The first couple years of being a mom I was on tour, and the rhythm of tour life is built into the work, the way that most people’s jobs provide a rhythm for their life. I think a lot of [musicians] were discovering that we needed to create those rhythms, by taking morning or evening walks around the neighborhood, by spending more time making meals or cooking, or doing whatever it is that helps cycle you in to the next part of the day. 

I was digging through my old record collection, and I would listen to five a day, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them or whether I was done with them. A big part of me creating Under the Pepper Tree with vinyl in mind was because of this wonderful freedom that it gave me to put on a record and not have to make a choice for a while. I could just listen to it and not have to worry what song came up in the algorithm next, or decide whether or not I wanted to skip ahead. That freedom of just making one choice and being able to go about the rest of the things that I needed to do, it felt really liberating, like a kindness that I could do to myself. 

That also played into why I wanted to make this album with record listening in mind. It works great on digital too, but I imagined it being an A and B side. If you only listen to side A, you can get a full arc and it can send you into dreamland. And if you want to listen to it altogether, that’s another experience. 

Like with Nickel Creek on “Blue Shadows on the Trail,” were any specific guests important to certain songs?

“Tumbling Tumbleweeds” with Aoife [O’Donovan] and [Sarah] Jarosz, my I’m With Her bandmates, was just as important, because I really wanted both of those bands on this record. I feel like this album in a lot of ways celebrates this time in my life, and the music that I grew up with. For me also, it was an incredible way to get those two bands together on an album, because they’re both so meaningful to me, and have played such huge roles in my life, and in my growth and development as a person, as a mom. So it was incredibly meaningful to get to have them on it. 

All of the players on the record mean a lot to me, but I really also loved having Davíd Garza on this record, who is a dear friend. In particular, he plays this beautiful solo on “Moon River.” There’s a song on Emmylou Harris’ record Roses in the Snow when Willie Nelson comes in with a guitar solo, and then it sounds like he just goes away. When I first heard that record — I think it was in my early 20s — it was pretty informative to me about how a lot of times musicians can be known for one or two things, but they might not often get asked to just be a musician on somebody else’s record. I just love that [Harris] didn’t get Willie to sing on it, she got him to come in and play a guitar solo. That was really eye-opening for me, and changed the way I thought of playing with people. 

On “Moon River,” I specifically had that moment in mind where Willie comes in and plays a solo and goes away, and so Davíd graciously agreed to be my Willie Nelson on this song, and he does a wonderful job. 

Having a couple of original tunes on the record, what was your process behind writing something that incorporates naturally with these classic songs?

I felt like there should be a spot for fiddle on this record. I knew that I wanted to have an instrumental on here, and I knew that I wanted to write it. It was important to have a little break in the lyrics. It was great to expand my childhood story with the title of the [instrumental], “Under the Pepper Tree.” That has very personal weight to me. A lot of instrumental titles are pretty arbitrary in my experience, but this was an opportunity to share a little bit about my own childhood. 

There’s a tree that I spent a lot of time growing up with, playing in and imagining in. There are several very important pepper trees in my life. One of them is at my aunt’s house, where my grandma used to live. There were two huge family reunions under that pepper tree. I just remember running around with my cousins, playing tag, listening to my aunt’s laugh, all that stuff. It’s a really beautiful thing, and I think that had a natural place on the album. 

The other song [“Night Singing”] was a poem that I wrote, that eventually fell into a guitar part. Originally, I thought that this record would be a lullaby record, but my goal for the record changed. It was to make something a little more deeply transitional for people of all ages. But “Night Singing” is a true lullaby, for my daughter, for myself, and for my friends. 

Do you have any specific plans you’re looking forward to taking on when we climb out of this pandemic? 

This fall, my brother [Sean Watkins] and I are going to do some touring behind our Watkins Family Hour album brother sister, which came out a year ago now. We weren’t able to tour it, but a lot of the dates we had for last fall have been rescheduled for this fall, 2021. We have some dates on the books starting in August, which is kinda hard to believe! So this fall we’ll be able to do some in-person shows, and I’m really looking forward to it. 

I feel very stopped up in terms of creativity, because we wrote the brother sister record, recorded it, and put it out, and haven’t really been able to celebrate it with an audience. Then I put together Under the Pepper Tree, recorded that, released it, and I haven’t been able to do shows for it. There’s been writing for other projects, but I honestly feel a little bit stopped up creatively. I think I just need to perform some of these songs, and get them out of my body, so that I can put more stuff in. As alienating as this whole thing has felt for us, and as isolating as it has been, there has been to some degree a shared experience, and the universality of that has been reassuring at times for me. 

Sara and Sean Watkins, as Watkins Family Hour, are coming to Colorado in March 2022! Grab your tickets here.

Photo credit: Jacob Boll

BGS 5+5: The Brother Brothers

Posted on by Editor

Artist: The Brother Brothers (Adam and David Moss)
Hometown: Peoria, Illinois
Latest Album: Calla Lily (out April 16, 2021, on Compass Records)

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

If I have to pick one, which is quite difficult, I’d have to pick John Hartford. I constantly admire, rediscover, and celebrate the effortlessness with which music and words flow out of him. When he writes, he writes about what he knows, and we are convinced to join him in his love of steamboats, old time Nashville, and so many other things that I’d normally walk on by. His musicality is so honest and of himself, and damn, it just sounds so good. He doesn’t subscribe to any “rules” and yet he’s so completely inside a style. — Adam

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

I have done a fair share of composition for dance, which has opened a whole new universe of creativity to me — the idea that movement, once catalogued, becomes an intentional means of expression has such a real and vibrant quality that no other art form can ever hope to encapsulate. Working with ballet dancers is amazing because the rigid tradition and pure athleticism of the art form creates an amazing palette that can really get inside different kinds of music, and the creativity flowing from choreographers of modern dance in NYC and around the world is just something so otherworldly but yet incredibly accessible. For some reference, I would recommend Batsheva Dance Company and the surrounding tradition of Gaga, and Nederlands Dance Theater. And of course the ever famous and incredible stewards of George Balanchine, the New York City Ballet. — David

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

This last year we’ve both been displaced by the pandemic and as a result have continuously traveled. Now, David is living with his fiancée and their dog in a scamp trailer, spending every day entirely surrounded by nature. I’m currently living in California and surfing every day. When you make your life in nature, you can’t help but let the waves and your wetsuit influence your rhythm and rhyme. The sunset is an impossible thing to describe, but we can keep trying. — Adam

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

There isn’t really such a thing as “a tough time writing a song,” in my experience. Songs, for me, are things found and worked out. If the process feels difficult, it usually requires waiting and trying different avenues. If you asked, “What is the longest it’s taken to write a song?” The answer would be a very very long time. — David

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

Honestly, I can’t imagine a better pairing than Russ & Daughters’ smoked fish spread and dancing to one of the hottest klezmer bands in NYC. Second only to that would be another trip to Lafayette, Louisiana, to spend another weekend at Blackpot Festival, hanging with our Cajun friends down there, playing music and eating the contest-winning gumbo, jambalaya, and gravies of the year. — Adam

Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

Rhiannon Giddens Finds a Piece of Home in a Fiddle Tune with Francesco Turrisi

Posted on by Editor

Helping to usher in spring and with it many new beginnings is another album from folk music master Rhiannon Giddens. The second project to come from her magical collaborations with Italian multi-instrumentalist Francesco Turrisi, They’re Calling Me Home is due to be released April 9 on Nonesuch Records. Following the debut of its title track in March, a second single titled “Waterbound” was released, accompanied by a music video, forecasting what is to come from the musical partnership. The song itself is a traditional fiddle tune first recorded in the 1920s that has been a part of Giddens’ repertoire for some time, but its meaning is surprisingly representative of life in lockdown.

About including it on the new release, Giddens said, “‘Waterbound’ is a song I learned a long time ago and it brings me forcefully home to North Carolina when I sing it, and considering that I am, indeed Waterbound, and have been for a long time, it’s a rare moment when a folk song represents exactly my situation in time.” Giddens and Turrisi, who have been living and recording in Ireland during the pandemic, have a direct line to whatever it is about folk and old-time music that makes it so endearing, timeless, and universal. Watch “Waterbound” below:

Photo credit: Karen Cox

LISTEN: Andy Leftwich, “Through the East Gate”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Andy Leftwich
Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee
Song: “Through the East Gate”
Release Date: March 19, 2021
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “‘Through the East Gate’ is a tune I wrote with the thought in mind of combining old-style fiddling with the new style of fiddlers that we hear today. I’ve always loved old traditional fiddling, and I wanted to somehow capture both the feel of the old style and combine it with the exciting licks and melodies that the newer style brings. This song reminds me of friends and family coming together to play music and to have a great time! I was so honored to have the legendary Mark Schatz join me on bass and clawhammer banjo. After we cut the track, we couldn’t resist recording a track of him dancing to this one!” — Andy Leftwich

Photo credit: Erick Anderson

MIXTAPE: Vivian Leva & Riley Calcagno’s Old-Time Deep Cuts

Posted on by Editor

We were both old-time music festival kids, showing up at our parents’ jams with dirt-covered feet, stopping for a moment to listen to the tunes and songs that would undoubtedly carry on late into the night. When we met and first played music, it wasn’t to write or sing songs, but to stay up all night playing fiddle tunes, thrilled by the parallel experiences we shared that allowed playing together to feel effortless. Though the songs on our upcoming duo record aren’t traditional and draw a wide net of inspiration, we aimed to have the groove and groundedness of string band music woven into the feeling of the album.

This playlist includes some of our favorite (deep) cuts of old-time music, at least the ones that have been published for streaming and don’t linger on a cassette or family archive. We selected these to give you a sense of how each song or tune has spun a web of connection that somehow wound its way in our direction. We chose many songs that are somehow close to us and the people we know. We chose some that, by their very existence, make clear the injustice that this music and the people who make it are grappling with and/or trying to overcome.

Old-time music isn’t any one particular thing, but is instead filled with contradictions. Even its name feels odd to write and at odds with how we view it. Yet, it is the music that feels like home to us. Come and join our tragic and raging old-time party. – Vivian Leva and Riley Calcagno

Dirk Powell – “Three Forks of Cumberland”

This is one of our favorite recorded instances of old-time music and its unique, reckless drive. This twisty tune is a rare occurrence of a melody that came from sheet music, off the Hamblon family manuscripts. Dirk Powell is joined here by the original members of Foghorn Stringband, recorded live in Eugene, Oregon. You can hear us play this tune live during a jam at the Appalachian String Band Music Festival in Clifftop, West Virginia, on this Bandcamp release.

The Renegades – “Chilly Winds”

In the ‘90s, Vivian’s parents, Carol Elizabeth Jones and James Leva, played in The Renegades with Richie Stearns and June Drucker. Their combination of old-time string band music, harmony singing, and original songs are unique and well-crafted. Riley discovered this band in his dad’s iTunes library in high school before ever meeting Viv and was instantly hooked. Here, they play a song from the Round Peak region of North Carolina called “Chilly Winds.”

Lily May Ledford – “White Oak Mountain”

Lily May Ledford of Powell County, Kentucky sings this song of a woman who has been betrayed and seeks revenge. Ledford was the leader of the Coon Creek Girls, a widely recognized string band from the ‘30s to ‘50s. Viv’s mom Carol Elizabeth Jones sings this song (with the name “44 Gun”) on the recently re-released 1991 cassette, Rambling & Wandering, by the Wandering Ramblers.

Tara Nevins – “Rocky Island”

This record from Tara Nevins is one of our favorite traditional/original fusion projects. Check out that bouncy electric guitar… wowza. This one is sung by Jim Miller, now one of our label-mates with Western Centuries.

Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard – “Let Me Fall”

Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard sing this Round Peak classic on this practice tape, recorded live in Alice’s kitchen and released by Free Dirt Records.

Tommy Jarrell – “God Gave Noah the Rainbow Sign”

The musician who arguably had the most influence on today’s old-time music scene is Tommy Jarrell of Surry County, North Carolina. Tommy welcomed younger visitors in the 1970s and ‘80s (including Viv’s dad, James, on many occasions) to his house to learn tunes, swap stories, and pass on ideas about the music. Inspiration from Tommy’s playing, especially his bowing, has spread throughout the old-time scene. For more of Tommy, check out this video of Tommy and his frequent musical partner Fred Cockerham playing on a porch in 1971.

Paul Brown – “Red Clay Country”

Paul Brown beautifully picks the banjo and sings this old song on his record of the same name. He learned it from his mom, Louise Dichman Brown, who learned it in the 1920s from two brothers, John and Harry Calloway of Bedford County, Virginia. Paul told us that there are some early recordings of this song on so-called “race records,” the name given to records released featuring Black musicians in the highly segregated and exploitative record industry. This song in particular was a work song, sung by workers on the railroads. These laborers were often wrongly convicted Black people working dangerous and sometimes deadly jobs. Kevin Kehrberg and Jeffrey A. Keith write about this in their research on Swannanoa Tunnel (both the song and construction of the tunnel), a song that is similar to “Red Clay Country.”

Plank Road String Band – “Sail Away / George Booker”

This band came out of Vivian’s home county, Rockbridge County, Virginia, in the 1980s and features her dad James Leva. This track was featured on The Young Fogies, a compilation of the old-time music community during the ’80s revival era. The fabulously frenetic cello, played by Michael Kott, is unique for old-time music, as is the tenor banjo played by Al Tharp. The band had a few successful and influential tours in Scandinavia.

Bruce Molsky – “Last of Harris”

John Morgan Salyer of Magoffin County, Kentucky, was a fiddler who lived from 1882-1952. Though music was never his career, he played unique, often “crooked” (meaning an unexpected number of beats in each part) versions of fiddle tunes. His family recorded him at home in the 1940s, but these recordings weren’t made publicly available until nearly 50 years later thanks in large part to the work of Vivian’s grandfather, Loyal Jones. Here is one of our favorite Salyer tunes, played by one of our favorite fiddlers, Bruce Molsky (along with his partner, Audrey Molsky) on his 1993 Yodel-Ay-Hee cassette, Warring Cats.

Foghorn Stringband – “Best Timber”

Riley grew up around the band Foghorn Stringband and absorbed their uniquely driving sound at Stickerville in Weiser, Idaho, at the Portland Old-Time Music Gathering, and in lively kitchen parties around the Pacific Northwest. They learned this tune from the great Midwestern fiddler, Garry Harrison.

Gribble, Lusk, and York – “Rolling River: Country Dance”

Murphy Gribble, John Lusk, and Albert York of Warren County, Tennessee, were one of the best string bands of the 20th century. Even so, they were never commercially recorded because they were a Black string band at a time when record companies wouldn’t record such a band. (Black musicians were essentially barred from recording string band music and their recordings were segregated into “race records” which we mention above.) Murphy Gribble’s banjo playing in this recording is especially notable as creative and exceptional three-finger picking. More resources on Black string band music is on our friend, spectacular musician, and labelmate Jake Blount’s website. More writing on Gribble, Lusk, and York in an article by Linda L. Henry here.

Roscoe Holcomb – “Hills of Mexico”

Speaking of divine picked banjo, Roscoe Holcomb of the town of Daisy in Perry County, Kentucky, sings this story, “Hills of Mexico.” Mike Seeger, at a performance at Holcomb’s nursing home in Hazard, Kentucky, said that what set him apart is “that he had that real drive, like he really meant it… he had real conviction to his playing, and of course he sing with that high voice, and he’d take a lot of those old mountain songs and make them real special.” Viv’s mom, Carol Elizabeth Jones, also sings this song on a recording with The Renegades.

Bigfoot – “The Dying Cowboy”

Susie Goehring of Northeastern Ohio sings this heartbreaker on the great album by elusive string band Bigfoot. Rhys Jones plays some appropriately mournful fiddle lines under the vocal on the recording. We aren’t entirely sure where Susie learned it but Vivian sings a version from Sloan Matthews, recorded in Pecos, Texas, in 1942.

The Onlies – “Look Up, Look Down”

We also play in an old-time string band called The Onlies that Riley started with his friends Sami Braman and Leo Shannon when they were seven years old. Viv joined in 2017 after a chance meeting during the days between Centrum’s Voice Works and Fiddle Tunes workshops in Port Townsend, Washington. This track is sung by Leo on The Onlies newest record. We learned this version from the great Gaither Carlton.

The Humdingers – “Cumberland Gap”

There is something difficult about capturing the distinct energy of a string band on a recording. Often the best music happens late at night, far off in a field, and certainly never gets uploaded to Spotify. Here is a recorded instance of a band finding the center of the groove on one of the best fiddle tunes there is, “Cumberland Gap.” This recording is of the band The Humdingers with Brad Leftwich on the fiddle, Linda Higginbotham on the banjo uke, Bob Herring on guitar, Ray Alden on banjo, and Dirk Powell on bass.

Photo credit: Brendon Burton

Bluegrass is Trance (And Old-Time, Too)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Bluegrass is trance. Old-time, too. 

With a slightly more zoomed out perspective, this fact comes into focus pretty quickly. American roots music and its precursors, especially their string band forms, have been interwoven with dance for eons. Before the advent of recorded music, when the popular musics of the day could often only be consumed by upper classes, dancing and other social group activities were the center places music inhabited. Before radio shaved popular music down into bite-sized, three-minute chunks, the tunes would last as long as necessary to provide a backdrop for a reel, a hornpipe, or a square dance, extending fiddle tunes into ten- to twenty-minute, cyclical, musical meditations. “Turkey in the Straw” as mantra, “Chicken Reel” as a slightly wonky, onomatopoeic sound bed.

Detached from dance, it’s easy to forget that string band music has been designed with trance embedded within its structures. Chris Pandolfi is a banjo player who’s explored quite a bit in trance and trance-adjacent music with the Infamous Stringdusters, a seminal jamgrass band with a level of bluegrass’s technical virtuosity that’s unmatched in all but a select few ensembles in a similar vein. Pandolfi’s new record, Trance Banjo, which was released under his solo stage name, Trad Plus, moves further and further beyond American roots aesthetics, cementing the banjo and its musical vernacular within trance – the electronica variety as well as the age-old, human kind.

Trance Banjo, and tracks such as “Wallfacer” — whose trippy visualizer music video almost cements this article’s central argument — recalls albums by Scott Vestal, or live shows by post-metal shredders like Billy Strings, or experimental, avant garde compositions by cattywompus flattop mashers like Stash Wyslouch. It’s not just a simple coincidence that so many players from bluegrass and old-time backgrounds find themselves dabbling with trance.

John Mailander, a fiddler who’s toured with Molly Tuttle and Bruce Hornsby and has been hired as a side-musician with many a jamgrass-leaning band, is comfortably uncomfortable in a very similar musical realm as Trance Banjo. On an EP of sketches and improvisations released last summer (from the same sessions and experimentations that became his upcoming album, Forecast) Mailander and his bluegrass-veteran backing band play with trance centered on sparseness, vacancy, and negative space in a way that’s engaging and baffling, both. Mailander’s rubric of vulnerable, emotive, and transparent expression as a foundation for improv is key here.

That personal touch, the personality endemic in these trance experimentations, is certainly what makes them most compelling and it must be, at least in part, what ties these songs to the centuries-old tradition of music as meditation. Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi make more than just a musical brand of showcasing their personalities and identities in the music they create, it’s more like a mission statement. Giddens has an incredible aptitude for writing and composing music based on empathy and human connection and Turrisi holds expansive knowledge of world folk music and percussion.

Their compositions and collaborations illustrate that, when we connect our music to dance, percussion, and trance, we’re connecting it to thousands and thousands of years of history — of humans of all ethnicities, cultures, backgrounds, and identities, gathering, connecting, sharing, and loving through music, dance, and trance. On stage, Turrisi and Giddens deliberately connect these dots as well, utilizing stage banter to educate their audiences about these exact connections.

While old-time has held onto its penchant for movement and choreography through the generations, bluegrass continues to grow distant from this and many of the other cultural phenomena that gave rise to it. Trance Banjo, and projects like it, while they seem to gleefully run away from what we perceive as “traditional” aspects of these genres, are in many ways guiding us right back to the very folkways that birthed them. 

Photo credit: Chris Pandolfi by Chris Pandolfi

WATCH: Cristina Vane, “Prayer For the Blind”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Cristina Vane
Hometown: Turin, Italy
Song: “Prayer For the Blind”
Album: Nowhere Sounds Lovely
Release Date: April 2, 2021

In Their Words: “‘Prayer For the Blind’ is inspired by a friendly couple I met while camping on the border of Nebraska and Iowa. She told me her mother suffered from dementia, but that it couldn’t help but make her laugh when her mother claimed that her husband was cheating on her, going dancing with a woman with two peg legs, and that she was going to wring her neck. The anecdote got me thinking about how we try and find levity in heavy situations, and also about the bond between mothers and daughters and the intergenerational burdens that can be passed along through them. I wanted to find a tone that matched the difficult nature of these questions, and the lonesome modal banjo seemed perfect for that, paired with Nate Leath’s great fiddling. The issues of motherhood and illness are no new phenomenon, so I thought old time sounds fit the theme well — you can’t beat a fiddle and banjo!” — Cristina Vane

Photo credit: Oceana Colgan
Video credit: Jeremy Harris