BGS 5+5: Thompson the Fox

Artist: Thompson the Fox
Hometown:
Tokyo, Japan
Latest Album: The Fox In Tiger’s Clothing, vol.1: FOX

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Takero Sekijima. I first encountered his music about 15 years ago, back when I was playing marimba and aiming to become a classical performer. At the time, I was unsure whether to continue pursuing that path. Until then, I had mostly performed solo, but his music taught me how powerful it can be to create music with others. After discovering his work, I came to believe that simple, warm music has the ability to speak directly to the heart. – Rie Koyama, xylophone

Earl Scruggs. When I started playing banjo at age 11, I was blown away by Foggy Mountain Jamboree by Flatt & Scruggs. I couldn’t read English at the time, but I began studying banjo on my own using Earl’s instruction book that my parents bought for me. He’s the most creative figure in the history of the banjo and he has always been the player I respect the most. – Takumi Kodera, banjo

Dennis Crouch. His bass lines are precise and never excessive, and the tone he creates with gut strings is truly unique. – Akihide Teshima, bass

Paul Motian. As a drummer, his playing opened my eyes to the idea that rhythm can have a three-dimensional structure – almost like cubism in sound. He also composed many brilliant pieces and constantly explored new musical possibilities through innovative work in trios and combos. – Tomohito Yoshijima, drums

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

There was a time when a tune I came up with seemed to call for many different characters or voices and I felt that Thompson the Fox alone didn’t have enough sound to fully express it. That was a real challenge. On our new album, we layered toy piano and percussion to expand the sound. For live shows, we do our best to recreate that lively atmosphere by ourselves. – RK

My goal in composing and arranging is to make the most of each member’s abilities through the ensemble. Writing for a band like ours – with its unusual and unprecedented instrumentation – is always challenging, but deeply rewarding. Since there’s no model to follow, I try to understand each instrument’s unique qualities as well as each member’s playing style. – TK

For me, every tune needs a story – like a short piece of fiction. The hardest part is crafting a story that’s compelling on its own, then figuring out how to express it through music in a way that evokes that narrative. Communicating that idea clearly to the other members is also part of the challenge. – TY

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I’ve always approached music freely, without confining myself to specific genres. It’s all about expressing myself authentically. – AT

Rie comes from a background of classical and contemporary music, Tomohito from jazz, and Akihide and I from bluegrass. We’re a band made up of four people with completely different musical backgrounds. We’ve been searching for the common ground between us and expanding on that as we create music. As a result, I believe we naturally developed a unique sound that’s difficult to categorize into any specific genre. – TK

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

Grilled samma (Pacific saury) with Bones Jugs. – RK

On a cold winter day, sipping hot sake and enjoying oden at a cozy izakaya while listening to Amos Milburn. – TK

Yakitori with modern jazz. – AT

Spicy food so hot it makes you sweat, paired with Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. – TY

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

A day with no urgent deadlines. I’d practice the xylophone, take a nap, go for a run, drink some beer, eat fish, read a sci-fi book in the bath, and go to bed. – RK

A day when I can play the banjo not to prepare for anything, but purely out of interest and curiosity. – TK

A day when I can play without mistakes and enjoy a drink afterward. – AT

A day when I can spend as long as I want trying to beat an insanely difficult video game. – TY


Photo Credit: Koichi Wakui

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From EZRA, Lonesome River Band, and More

Okay, we say it every week, but really– You Gotta Hear This! Our weekly premiere and new music roundup includes bluegrass, the blues, Americana, indie, bebop influences, and so much more.

LA’s American Mile kick us off with a music video for “Waiting on a Sunday,” which is equal parts roots rock and alt country – into Tom Petty vibes? This one’s for you! The song was inspired by a mundane gas station encounter on a silent pandemic Sunday. Singer-songwriter Meir Levine also launches “I Wish It Was Over,” an indie rock-tinged Americana track with poppy textures that considers closure, moving on, and looking ahead.

Unfortunately, two of our string bands below have the blues this week! EZRA, a talented new acoustic quartet with bluegrass roots and a stacked roster of pickers, bring us a performance video for “Basically a Blues,” where they turn a typical 12-bar blues progression inside out and upside down with acrobatic, virtuosic picking. Plus, Lonesome River Band’s new single, “Blues,” is an Adam Wright-written song featuring Rod Riley on Telecaster. That track is from their upcoming project, Telegrass, and we’re receiving the message loud and clear.

Singer-songwriter Mac Cornish covers Danny O’Keefe’s “The Road” with a deliciously retro, twangy ’70s sound that’s appropriately melancholic and full of life, too. Elsewhere in our roundup, you’ll hear Julia Sanders, who’s also inhabiting grief, sadness, and nostalgia in a video for her new single, “Star Stickers,” during which her listeners will certainly be able to picture glow-in-the-dark decorations stuck haphazardly to their childhood ceilings.

Make sure to scroll all the way to the bottom, though, as you won’t want to miss “Foxology” from Tokyo’s Thompson the Fox, an exciting newgrass quartet with an uncommon lineup: banjo, bass, drums, and xylophone. It’s fantastic music, bebop and jazz influences leading to sonic surprises around every twist and turn of the original melody. When this one arrived in our inboxes, we were immediately charmed and entranced. You will be, too.

It’s all right here on BGS and, simply– You Gotta Hear This!

American Mile, “Waiting on a Sunday”

Artist: American Mile
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “Waiting on a Sunday”
Album: American Dream
Release Date: May 2, 2025 (single); June 6, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “When I was writing ‘Waiting on a Sunday,’ I was on a couch in Vermont. It was silent and my thoughts were the only thing around. It was 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, and I walked to the gas station up the street, ’cause nothing was coming to me in that silence. There was a lady at the gas pump trying to wrestle her kids into the car and pump gas at the same time. I thought I recognized her from high school, so I helped her pump her gas while she dealt with her kids. She told me a little bit about her life and the struggles of being a single mom; she was heading to church that morning. It all kind of flooded into my mind at that point and I wrote most of the lyrics that day. I thought to myself, ‘We’re all in a way waiting for a Sunday,’ whatever that means to us.” – Eugene Rice


Mac Cornish, “The Road”

Artist: Mac Cornish
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “The Road”
Release Date: May 1, 2025

In Their Words: “‘The Road’ by Danny O’Keefe has been one of my favorite songs for years, because of Danny’s melancholic but beautiful lyrics about life on the road. Danny’s writing in general has always been important to me, but as time has passed and I’ve toured more, this song keeps resonating with me more. I started covering it with my backing band about a year ago and it quickly became a staple in our set and a favorite of our audiences. This past December we went into the studio and recorded the whole thing to tape, really trying to emulate the early ’70s sounds of this song, but also give our own spin on it. Our two acoustic guitars lay as the foundation for our version of the song. The bass and drums drive the song forward, but never distract from the delicate Travis picking. The pedal steel weeps through the whole song, emphasizing certain lyrics and complementing the vocal melody. I’m proud of my take on this ’70s classic and am excited to add my name to the list of artists who have covered this song.” – Mac Cornish

Track Credits:
Mac Cornish – Acoustic guitar, vocals
Bailey Warren – Acoustic guitar, backing vocals
Trevor Stellflug – Pedal steel
Jacob Miller – Bass
Hunter Maxson – Drums


EZRA, “Basically a Blues”

Artist: EZRA
Hometown: Oberlin, Ohio
Song: “Basically a Blues”
Album: Froggy’s Demise
Release Date: May 9, 2025
Label: Adhyâropa Records

In Their Words: “‘Basically a Blues’ takes the standard chords used in a 12-bar blues and flips them upside down. All the well-known bluesy harmonies become diminished when doing this, and I found the sound to be fairly intriguing. I especially love the solos and trades that Max [Allard] and Jake [Jolliff] take over this quirky tune and have to give major kudos to Craig [Butterfield] who burns constant 8th notes for the duration.” – Jesse Jones, guitar

Track Credits:
Jacob Jolliff – Mandolin
Max Allard – Banjo
Jesse Jones – Guitar, composer
Craig Butterfield – Double bass


Meir Levine, “I Wish It Was Over”

Artist: Meir Levine
Hometown: Upstate & Brooklyn, New York
Song: “I Wish It Was Over”
Album: Long & Lonely Highway
Release Date: June 6, 2025
Label: First City Artists

In Their Words: “‘I Wish It Was Over’ came in one of those exceedingly rare moments, where I woke up one morning and the song was already fully formed in my head. The song covers a pretty simple message I think, about the things that we can’t seem to let go of, that we seek out just to feel something – even if it’s bad or harmful to us.” – Meir Levine

Track Credits:
Meir Levine – Songwriter, vocals, guitars
Andrew Freedman – Producer, piano, keyboards
Will Graefe – Electric guitars, acoustic guitars
Jeremy McDonald – Bass
Mike Robinson – Pedal steel, guitars
Jordan Rose – Drums


Lonesome River Band, “Blues”

Artist: Lonesome River Band
Hometown: Floyd, Virginia
Song: “Blues”
Release Date: May 2, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “We’ve all had the ‘Blues’ in our lives, but this Adam Wright song sees the ‘Blues’ in a whole different light. It’s a lighthearted break from the sad songs – one that we have a ton of fun with. Featuring our good friend Rod Riley on the Telecaster, it comes from our upcoming Telegrass project.” – Sammy Shelor

Track Credits:
Sammy Shelor – Banjo, harmony vocal
Jesse Smathers – Acoustic guitar, harmony vocal
Mike Hartgrove – Fiddle
Adam Miller – Mandolin, lead vocal
Kameron Keller – Upright bass
Rod Riley – Electric guitar


Julia Sanders, “Star Stickers”

Artist: Julia Sanders
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Star Stickers”
Album: Dark Matter
Release Date: May 16, 2025

In Their Words: “Usually my songwriting process is the same. I start with a melody and then lyrics start to unfold as the idea of the song becomes more distilled. With this one, the chorus came lyrics, melody, and all, as I was laying in bed getting my daughter to sleep one night. I had been asking myself, ‘What am I avoiding writing about?’ and maybe more than any other theme, was my challenging and painful relationship with my own mother. My mother struggled with mental health her whole life and in her own pain, she hurt those around her. Just before I started working on this album, she was diagnosed with ALS. Her physical decline was very quick and heartbreaking. The grief was heavy, complicated, and messy. Lying in my daughter’s bed that night, watching the yellow-green glow of star stickers on the ceiling, I felt like I was time-traveling – to my own childhood bedroom, needing my mother to be different than she could be, then back to this room, trying hard to be a different kind of mother for my own children, and then to the future, where nothing is known except that none of this lasts.” – Julia Sanders

Track Credits:
Julia Sanders – Vocals, songwriter
John James Tourville – Guitar
Steve Earnest – Baritone guitar
Landon George – Bass
Bryce Alberghini – Drums

Video Credit: Ashlyn McKibben


Thompson the Fox, “Foxology”

Artist: Thompson the Fox
Hometown: Tokyo, Japan
Song: “Foxology”
Album: The Fox In Tiger’s Clothing, vol. 1: FOX
Release Date: May 3, 2025
Label: Prefab Records

In Their Words: “We’re a Tokyo-based instrumental quartet with a unique lineup – xylophone, banjo, bass, and drums. Each member comes from a different musical background: Rie Koyama (xylophone) from classical music, Tomohito Yoshijima (drums) from jazz, and Akihide Teshima (bass) and I (banjo) from bluegrass.

“Writing tunes for such an unconventional instrumentation always feels like an experiment. I’ve long had the idea that the rapid melodic lines and complex syncopation of bebop would suit the xylophone and banjo. So I wrote this tune with strong influences from Charlie Parker – which is why I named it ‘Foxology.’

“It was a lot of fun coming up with the A section melody that can be played in melodic style on the banjo, so is the B section featuring a double-stop chromatic scale played on the xylophone with four mallets. We hope you enjoy our new album!” – Takumi Kodera, banjo

Track Credits:
Rie Koyama – Xylophone
Takumi Kodera – Banjo, composer
Akihide Teshima – Bass
Tomohito Yoshijima – Drums


Photo Credit: EZRA by Tanya Rosen-Jones; Lonesome River Band by Sandlin Gaither.

Japanese Musician Bosco Maintains the Tradition of Old-Time Fiddle and Banjo

Takaki Kosuke, affectionately known as Bosco, has long been part of the tapestry of old-time music. Growing up in Japan, he found American folk music and began traveling to the United States as a teenager. Now 62, Bosco holds a deep respect for the stories and the people behind the tunes, which is evident in every note he plays. A light heart full of memories and passion infuses his music with flow, solidity, and earthiness. His fiddle style is impeccably drawn from the very best of the “old-timers” yet uniquely marked by his own empathetic nature, making him one of the inimitable old-time musicians of his generation.

Could you introduce yourself?

My real name is Kosuke. Born the 8th of January, 1961. One of my first trips to the States, I stayed with Mike Ross in Michigan. He took me to the Wheatland Festival where he introduced me to his wife Mary: “This is Kosuke from Japan.” We both said hi, nice to meet you, we shook hands and then Mary asks Mike: “Is his name Bosco???” The other people there loved it. And then someone gave me a baseball cap which says BOSCO. It just stuck!

Is your family musical?

My mother’s aunt was a professional singer. She was quite popular in Japan. My mother loves music, she sings a lot. I have an older brother and I got his old guitar when I was 12, 13 years old. Then on my first trip to the States…I wasn’t into music so much around that time, but somehow I picked up the dulcimer.

How did you discover old-time music?

New Lost City Ramblers. The Carter Family. I listened to Japanese contemporary folk music, which is influenced by American folk music, and I started listening to Bob Dylan and Jack Elliot and then I found the Carter Family, Woody Guthrie, the blues…

How did you start playing fiddle?

I started playing fiddle tunes on the dulcimer. And I got a mountain-style banjo and started going to a small coffeehouse in Tokyo. My uncle wanted to be a violinist. He bought a violin, but he just couldn’t play it. So he gave it to me! It was a cheap Suzuki, but I started to learn on that. I already knew some fiddle tunes on dulcimer and banjo, so I started to play the melodies on fiddle.

When did you start coming to America?

My first trip to the States was when I was in high school. I was interested in American pop culture. Then John Herrmann came to Japan. That was BIG. I was 17 when I met John, he didn’t fiddle much, not the way he fiddles now, but it was my first time to be with an old-time musician from the States. After he went back to the States I decided to visit. That’s how it started. I went to the States almost every year in the ‘80s. In the ‘90s I got out of school — I’m an acupuncturist — and then I met my guru of acupuncture and I didn’t go to the States in the ‘90s at all. In ‘02 or ‘01, Alice [Gerrard] put on an International Old Time Music event at Merlefest. Then my coming to the States started again.

Tell me about your early experiences with old-time music in the States.

Old-time music found me. It suits me! Early on I took a fiddle class at Augusta with Gerry Milnes and he brought some real old-time fiddlers like Melvin [Wines] and Ernie [Carpenter], and the first time I heard Ernie: WOWWWWWWW!!!! Oh, Ernest! Totally different from New Lost City Ramblers! The banjo instructor was Dwight Diller. After Augusta he asked me to stay with him and took me to see Hammonses. Hammonses, they’re very poor. I was a kid from Tokyo, and all my images of America were like San Francisco and New York…and this…wow, this is REAL. Where they live. Not only the music. The landscape, and how they live…it just got me.

And then I met someone who took me to see Tommy Jarrell. Tommy…POW!!! So powerful, so energetic. Really different from Hammonses. Hammonses are more laid-back, real country people. But Tommy’s like someone from New York! His sense of humor, and he welcomes everybody. Grandfather to all of us from outside Southern Appalachian culture. Talking about culture is a very deep subject. On the surface, Japan is much like Western culture, not like other parts of Asia. Because Japan lost the War, then all the Western culture changed Japan, covered all the stuff beneath. All of us on the internet now, I don’t feel any difference as far as I am here and you are over there. I stay with old-time friends; it’s community. It feels more comfortable to stay with them than with a stranger in Japan. I visit old-time friends in Europe, and feel very comfortable with them, too. It’s like a lost family.

Has the internet and social media changed the way you connect with the community?

It makes it deeper. Like David Bragger, who produced my CD. The first time I met him: Oh, I know this guy! I felt close to him. And some I met back in the ‘80s, back when I started music…even some I never talked with, we saw each other at festivals, played a couple of tunes…we never talked, but we feel close now.

How would you describe your playing style?

In the ‘80s young people played “hippie style”…what they call “festival style” now. At that time everybody stood up. Now people will sit down, but back then, NEVER. They’d stand in a tight circle and play and play and play. So I was more into that kind of stuff. I almost forgot how Hammonses played. Even the tunes from Hammonses I played in hippie style. Even back in Japan, Round Peak/hippie style. But then! Jimmy Triplett came to Japan one summer to study in Kyoto. We got together almost every week to play. When I heard his fiddle: WOW. This is the kind of music I wanted to play at the beginning, when I was with Hammonses and with Ernie. So now I listen to more of the old stuff, old field recordings…

How did the Tiki Parlour project come about?

I played Quarantine Happy Hour. After the show I had a high time, I really enjoyed the comments. Some people I’ve not seen for 20 years, or people I saw at festivals back in the ‘80s and thought wow, these people, they sound great…They made good comments and so I got really excited. Then David asked me to make a solo CD and I’m like YES! OK! So I recorded it here in my home, straightaway.

It’s just you, solo?

Just me. I got to listen to my own recording and judge it. That’s hard. One day: Oh, this is great! And other days: God, it sucks! Pretty good! Oh, no! This is awful! The hardest part was writing the liner notes in English.

Memory and connection are a big part of the notes.

When I met Maggie Hammons she couldn’t sing or play banjo anymore. But my one and only banjo instruction book had Maggie on the cover…Maggie! There are lots of pictures in the liner notes, photos I took on those first trips. And another thing! When I met Hammonses, Tommy, other old people back then, I couldn’t speak much English. And I had just started fiddle. If I could meet them now I could ask more, not only about the music but about their life. And learn more by watching them. So sometimes I feel: Oh, I wish I could meet them now! But on the other hand, I meet the young people and they’re like: WOW! You met Tommy?!?! You met Burl [Hammons]?!?! You met Hammonses?!?! So I think: I am one of the last generations who met those old-timers who learned the music before the radio days. And I feel lucky to have met them before it was too late.

Is there a message you hope to send with this project?

We talked about community. It’s not divided by nationality. It’s more like something above. Above those individual groups of the nations, groups of the nationalities, groups of the colors. Something above these things. You can connect up there. I can’t be friends with everybody, everybody in the world. I hate some people, some hate me. It’s normal, you can’t be friends with everybody. But you can connect with other people on some level. Maybe if I get older and spiritually if I get much higher I can connect with more people. But now…it’s…steps.

Do you ever wish you had moved to America?

That’s the reason I became an acupuncturist. Ray Alden asked me what my father does. I said, he’s a doctor. “Eastern medicine?” No, Western. “Ohhhh….with Eastern medicine you can make a living here.” That’s when I was still in college. Aha! So I checked out the acupuncture school here. Ray Alden made me an acupuncturist. But then I finished acupuncture school and got licensed and then I met my acupuncture guru and decided to study with him. So moving to the States never happened.

You have an interesting story.

Most people expect a more interesting story, how I found old-time music. But it’s much the same story as people in New York, how they find old-time music, people in Boston, how they find old-time music. It’s just…met the right people at the right time. If old-time didn’t find me I would be a totally different person now. A totally different life, without the music. But it’s not just the music. It’s community.


Photo Credit: David Bragger

Bluegrass Memoirs: Jackson, Kentucky Bluegrass

[Editor’s note: Photos by Carl Fleischhauer]

On Monday August 7, 1972, with fresh memories of Maritimes old-time and bluegrass, I drove from New Brunswick to New England to join my wife and kids, who were house-sitting for my in-laws in Norwich, Vermont. 

On Thursday the 10th I headed south. A fourteen-hour drive brought me to Morgantown, West Virginia, the home of my friend and partner in research, photographer and film-maker Carl Fleischhauer, then employed at West Virginia University. We’d known each other for twelve years. (Our stories are in Bluegrass Odyssey: A Documentary in Pictures and Words, 1966-86 [U of IL Press 2001]). We were about to embark on fieldwork.

During the preceding year, when I began planning for the book Bluegrass: A History, I asked Carl to help me think about photos. In addition to documenting bluegrass festivals and other venues he, with Sandy Rothman, had recently looked for traces of earlier days in a field trip to the old Monroe home in Rosine, Kentucky. Now, we made plans for our own field trip. Carl would take photos. I would make notes and do interviews. 

We spent that Friday in Morgantown looking at Carl’s photos and films and listening to LPs as we prepared for the research. At the end of the evening, my notes say,

Did some picking.

Early Saturday morning we piled in my new Toyota with our gear (cameras, tape recorder, axes, tent, sleeping bags) and headed southwest, crossing into Kentucky from Huntington, WV and snaking down through the mountains to Jackson, the seat of Breathitt County. Three hundred miles; we arrived around 2 o’clock.

There we headed just outside of town for Bill Monroe’s Second Annual Kentucky Blue Grass Festival. When I went to Canada in 1968, Bill Monroe had one festival a year at Bean Blossom in Indiana. Now he was running a bunch in other states, as were other artists. Festivals were the big news in bluegrass music in 1972. We sought to document the bluegrass festival experience.

Later others would write about this, like Bob Artis (“An Endless Festival” in Bluegrass [1975]) and Robert Owen Gardner (The Portable Community [2021]). Here’s how my notes from Jackson begin:

West of town on main hwy, down short steep road. Paid camping & Sat. fees, never did pay for Sunday. Parked & walked down to the stage area — tent set up, natural amphitheatre, uncovered stage, bad sound. Lots of cops around on Saturday.

Made contact with Pete & Marion Kuykendall, and agreed to move in next to them to camp. Set up tent, attempted to speak to Monroe but he was busy coping with the Goins Bros. problem of being hassled by the cops for drinking. Later Kuykendall said that cops had asked Monroe for $ (3 or 6 hundred) and he had refused to pay off so they were taking it out in fines. Lots of racing around on Sat. with flashing lights et al, but they stayed away on Sunday.

Listened then to IT’S A CRYING TIME, hot & exciting Japanese bluegrass band. Then back to Kuykendall’s bus/home whatall. Thunderstorm; discovery that cassette recorder didn’t work on batteries because plug distorts switch; got it running eventually. Oldest Kuykendall girl Sam/Ginger comes in with bass player of above-mentioned Japanese band, then leaves. Kuykendalls are a bit worried about this but Carl & I both notice later that a number of young girls (McLain girls, for example) are hanging around, with this group.

Dinner with Kuykendalls. Frank & Marty Godbey come in and are around for the rest of the evening. Mostly we sit & talk, though I went down to the amphitheatre to catch Jim & Jesse and the Japanese bands. Came back, then returned to catch Monroe. Afterwards listened to picking group in tent near us. Did mainly Emerson & Waldron, Newgrass Revival, Bluegrass Alliance, Gentlemen, etc. Chromatic banjo. Noisy night in Carl’s tent, as sessions went on late and busses started early. I got a spider bite.

Bill Monroe (center) and the Blue Grass Boys at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972. Bandmembers include Monroe Fields, bass; Jack Hicks, banjo; Joe Stuart, guitar (hidden); Monroe, mandolin; and Kenny Baker, fiddle.

I’d known the Kuykendalls since 1966. Pete, a 1996 inductee to the Bluegrass Hall of Fame, was a musician, record collector, producer, publisher, and, since 1970 owner-editor of the first and leading bluegrass monthly Bluegrass Unlimited.

Pete Kuykendall, editor of Bluegrass Unlimited, in his RV parked in the camping area at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday August 12, 1972.

Pete and I had already been corresponding about bluegrass history when we met on Labor Day weekend 1966 at the second Roanoke Bluegrass Festival. Subsequently, I visited the Kuykendalls in Virginia where Pete encouraged me to write for the then all-volunteer magazine he would later own. I began with a review of the festival, published the following January — the first of eight articles I did for BU in 1967.

Photo made by Pete Kuykendall’s son Billy with one of Carl Fleischhauer’s cameras. Carl is seated at left with two other cameras on the table. This photo was made at the time of Neil Rosenberg’s (top of head above stove) interview of Pete Kuykendall, editor of Bluegrass Unlimited, in his RV at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972. In the background, at left, is Pete’s wife and Bluegrass Unlimited co-manager Marion Kuykendall.

By 1970 Pete and Marion were running BU full-time; I’d done an article for them earlier in 1972 (eventually I would write a monthly column) so we had been in touch recently by mail and phone. Conversations with Pete were never brief! He loved to share the business scuttlebutt and he had plenty since they were selling the magazine at festivals every weekend and had just launched BU’s own annual festival. 

I think this may have been the first time I met the Godbeys. From Lexington, and before that, Columbus, Ohio, they had been following the bluegrass scene for a decade. Frank is a musician who is still performing these days. By 1972 he and Marty had begun writing and publishing photos in BU. For them, as for me, hanging out with the Kuykendalls was a good way to keep up on the bluegrass news. People were already talking about starting an industry association, though that — the IBMA — wouldn’t happen until 1986. Pete was one of its founders.

Neil Rosenberg (facing camera) interviewing Pete Kuykendall, editor of Bluegrass Unlimited, in his RV parked in the camping area at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972. In the background, with an air rifle, is Pete’s son Billy Kuykendall.

With the growth of the festivals came clubs, newsletters, and magazines. Bluegrass enthusiasts (many of them musicians) followed their favorites to festivals and other venues. Paths crossed; networks grew. The politics of bands was a favorite discussion topic.

Over the course of the festival, I made note of gossip about the always changing bands. Ricky Skaggs had just left Ralph Stanley — there were rumors about where he was headed next. Was Bill working to get Ralph Stanley on the Opry? Some thought so. The II Generation was said to be splitting up. Stories were told of bluegrass festival camp followers. 

At this Jackson, Kentucky festival were a bunch of bands that had been appearing at Bill Monroe’s other 1972 festivals — Monroe, Jim & Jesse, Flatt, Reno & Harrell, the Goins, Ralph Stanley — mature musicians who’d been working with this music for a substantial period of time and who stuck close to the early models of which they were, often, the authors. Classic bluegrass, one could say. 

What the audience didn’t hear was the kind of stuff we’d heard from the jammers late Saturday night, like “One Tin Soldier,” The Bluegrass Alliance’s cover of a song popularized in the film Billy Jack. Their bluegrass version, with Sam Bush’s lead voice and Tony Rice’s harmonies and guitar work, was a hit, a big step on the road to newgrass.

The Japanese bands were new to the scene. Japanese bluegrass began in the early sixties. In 1971, Bluegrass 45 came from Kobe, Japan, with the sponsorship of their label, Rebel, to tour U.S. bluegrass festivals. They made a big hit at Monroe’s Bean Blossom festival with their showmanship and musical savvy. This year they were back, along with another Japanese outfit, It’s A Crying Time.

Visiting from Japan, the band It’s a Crying Time performs at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972. Band members include Eiichi “Ei’ Shimizu, banjo; Kazuyoshi “Kazu” Onishi, mandolin; Satoshi “Sato” Yamaguchi, guitar; Akira “May” Katsumi, bass.

Monroe had booked the Japanese bands as a novelty, something you couldn’t see just anywhere in the bluegrass world. As I mentioned in my field notes, I found It’s A Crying Time’s music “hot & exciting,” and I was not the only one in the audience reacting this way. They came to the attention of Lester Flatt, who, after watching them rehearse, invited mandolinist Kazu Onishi to join him on stage at his final set. 

Backstage moment at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972. Akira Katsumi, Kazu Onishi,
Lester Flatt, and Akira Otsuka. Otsuka was Kazu’s friend from the Japanese scene, a member of the Bluegrass 45.

This video comes from the Bluegrass 45’s appearance at Carlton Haney’s Camp Springs festival:

They are announced at the beginning of the video by emcee, writer, and DJ Bill Vernon. Vernon was here at Jackson, as I learned Sunday morning when I went down to the early morning gospel show. Pete Kuykendall introduced me to Bill there, and we had a long chat about the politics of the bluegrass industry. I wrote in my notes:

A very loquacious and complex person.

At that morning’s gospel show, the music came to a stop as a fundamentalist preacher began his sermon. At that point, I noted:

Bill Vernon cut out from the morning sermon, he’d had enough…

During the preacher’s sermon at the gospel program at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Sunday, August 13, 1972. Bill Monroe (wearing a black suit) is seated in the audience area at left.

I stayed and heard some good music, noting:

The gospel section’s high point was when the Goins Bros. did “Somebody Touched Me” and Eleanor Parker came on stage & started clapping hands and singing; Monroe caught on and came up to join in too.

During the gospel program at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Sunday, August 13, 1972. When the Goins Brothers band performed “Somebody Touched Me,” they were joined on stage by Eleanor and Rex Parker and Bill Monroe. Eleanor and Bill joined the Goins trio at the main microphone while Rex sang and played mandolin at the “stage right” microphone.

This kind of spontaneity, which gave festivals their appeal, was not there all the time. Jim & Jesse, I wrote, had:

A good show, with Jim Brock sounding especially good, but … a cut and dried quality to it all.

Describing Lester Flatt and his Nashville Grass, I concluded:

To me the whole band sounded tired, lackluster.

But Flatt’s final set was enlivened when It’s A Crying Time mandolinist and tenor Kazu Onishi came on stage to sing “Salty Dog Blues” with him. 

During my times around the stage area, I had a chance to talk with Monroe and with some of the musicians I’d gotten to know during my years as a backstage regular at Bean Blossom, like Birch Monroe, Joe Stuart, and Roland White.

I arranged with Birch, who was busy helping Bill run the festival, for an interview, to take place later in the week at his home in Martinsville, Indiana.

Joe Stuart offstage at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972.

Joe told me about his experiences playing bluegrass in Canada with Charlie Bailey. He’d even appeared in Newfoundland.

Roland, whom I’d known since his days as a Blue Grass Boy, was now playing with Lester Flatt. He told me they were working solid, playing festivals every weekend.

Here’s what I wrote about the audience:

Audience — bluegrass die-hards from Ohio, Ky., D.C., Carolinas. Few freaks. Appear to be about 50% campers, 50% local people. Certainly no more than 1500-2000, on Saturday, though figure of 3000 was bandied about. Bill moved his Ky festival to Jackson from Ashland this year because the turnout at Ashland was dropping. Fact, bluegrass ain’t as popular in Kentucky as it is elsewhere — Ohio, D.C.

Audience on the hillside natural amphitheater at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Saturday, August 12, 1972.

The festival closed with a finale, orchestrated by Monroe. At the first festivals in the mid-60s, which were created to honor Monroe, such events were somewhat spontaneous, but by now, seven years after the first one, these events were highly ritualistic. By the time it happened, I noticed that the Kuykendalls had left. They were not the only ones.

The finale performance at the Second Annual Kentucky Bluegrass Festival, Jackson KY, Sunday, August 13, 1972. At the center, in white suits, are Bill Monroe and Lester Flatt. Here are a few of the other performers, left to right: Curly Ray Cline (on the ramp), Melvin Goins (guitar, facing camera), Kenny Baker (fiddle, white hat, wearing a suit), Joe Stuart (just behind Baker, partly hidden), Buck Ryan (fiddle, white belt), Jack Hicks (banjo, white hat, wearing suit), Paul Warren (fiddle, white hat, at microphone), Vic Jordan (banjo, facing forward), Ralph Stanley (banjo, dark suit, hidden behind McCormick), Haskell McCormick (banjo, in profile), Monroe and Flatt with Don Reno (wearing white) partly hidden behind them, Raymond W. McLain and sister Alice McLain (hidden behind Flatt), Jesse McReynolds (mandolin, wearing striped jacket), Ruth McLain (bass, behind McReynolds), Raymond K. McLain (guitar, no hat), Roland White (mandolin, white hat), Rex Parker (mandolin, striped shirt), and Monroe Fields (leaning on van).

We packed up soon after and headed west for Lexington. I was hoping to interview J.D. Crowe.

[To be continued]


Thanks to Akira Otsuka and Carl Fleischhauer

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 by Terri Thomson Rosenberg.

Edited by Justin Hiltner

46 Years Later, Japan’s First Female Singer/Songwriter Reissues Her Debut

Being a “first” — a trailblazer, a pioneer, a renegade, an innovator — is an impossibly heavy mantle to take up. That being said, it’s not surprising that, when it is accurately applied, the term is almost never opted into or self-ascribed. It’s a fascination. A sort of voyeuristic moniker given by the media, by fans, by historians, by anyone who notices, or attempts to commodify, the importance of fresh offerings from new voices. In musical spaces, “firsts” tend to get more and more granular as they become more and more rare, necessitating countless modifiers and descriptors to lend accuracy to the idea that being on the edge, being an outlier in this way, is a selling point. Or, that it’s a merit in and of itself.

Guitarist, singer/songwriter, and performer Sachiko Kanenobu‘s claim to firstdom is no ball-and-chain, however. It is truly inconsequential to her — despite its legitimacy. And as for intricate modifiers? Just one. Kanenobu is considered Japan’s first female singer/songwriter. In an age when writers and artists alike are attempting to retire “female” as a pertinent adjective in music journalism, the designation does give pause. Though, 46 years after her debut album, Misora, was released in Japan, it’s important to remember that being a woman permitted to take up space — in these cultures that champion masculinity above all else, and in artistic spaces historically reserved for men — is still significant. And the circumstances that prohibited other women from going before Kanenobu were not that long ago. And not unique to Japan.

Misora is a stunning work. Singular in its musical aesthetic, its production values, its amalgamation of European pop stylings and folk revival influences, and most of all in the fact that despite being sung entirely in Japanese, the songs are shockingly accessible, evocative, and relatable. Reissued by Light in The Attic Records in July of this year, the album has followed Kanenobu through her decades living in the states, her forays into other genres and musical phenotypes with other bands and artists, and her absolute tirelessness as a songwriter and adept guitarist — even if she may not consider herself “a picker.” New generations of fans continually trip over and into this gorgeous record, and now, hopefully, countless others will have their eyes opened to this true masterpiece — and to a musician who deserves her place in the pantheon of folk singer/songwriter and guitarist greats.

Being designated as a “first” anything is kind of an enormous responsibility to bear. Do you see your role as one of Japan’s first women singer/songwriters in that way? How has it felt to blaze that trail? Or did it not feel like that at all?

Kanenobu: No, I don’t feel responsible, but it is exciting when I hear myself being referred to as the first Japanese woman singer/songwriter. I’m very grateful for the recognition. In the late 1960s there were no women who wrote their own songs and played guitar in Japan. I was the first one to do it on URC (Japan’s first independent record label). Thinking back, it felt good to be in that position. At that time, I was really young so I always wanted to be different from other musicians. I didn’t mind being the only woman doing what I was doing.

Part of why conversations about “firsts” can be stumbling blocks is because, often, these “firsts” are just examples of the first visible examples of X, Y, or Z. I wonder, are there artists, women or otherwise, that influenced you? That showed you there was a path forward for your music and your art? 

I grew up in a family (with three sisters and two brothers) that loved music and sang, which obviously had a big influence on me.

My oldest sister (18 year age difference between us) was a big star in Takarazuka, a famous woman’s theatre in Osaka, Japan where she performed in musicals such as The Sound of Music and The King and I. My mother would take me to all her performances. My second sister probably had the biggest influence on me as she played Western records (such as Bing Crosby, Dinah Shore, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, and others) in our house, loved classical music (Beethoven, Mozart, etc.), and also introduced me to some music coming out of France at the time. My third sister would also go onto to become a singer/songwriter. She wrote Enka Japanese country music and can play the piano even though she’s blind.

So, yes, my family was my biggest influence on my musical path.

At least stateside (but almost certainly pervasively, across the globe) general attitudes toward women in music often result in women being considered songwriters or singers before instrumentalists, but your guitar playing is clearly foundational to what you do — and so distinct. How did you develop your playing style, you are totally self-taught, yes? 

Yes, self-taught. One of my brothers learned how to play classical guitar and I would watch him play. Eventually, he got tired of playing so I asked him if I could borrow his guitar to try and teach myself to play. This was the beginning of my lifelong friendship with the guitar.

Later, during my high school years, my friend and I would sneak into the folk club on the campus of Kansai University. At that time American folk music was really popular among college students. Luckily, I met some great guitar players during that time who showed me how to fingerpick and play some simple chords.

Eventually I would meet film score composer Ichizo Seo, who introduced me to Donovan and The Pentangle, and I would try to copy their simpler songs, but it wasn’t easy so I would simplify the scale and created my own style. Even now I can’t tell you which chords I’m playing. I have to ask someone, “What chord am I playing?” I love Pentangle’s guitarists Bart Jansch and John Renbourn, who created a unique style with their duet guitar playing. Their playing still inspires me.

Do you find that people automatically consider you more of a singer or songwriter, rather than a picker? Or has your experience been different?

No one labeled me a guitar player back then and even I considered myself a singer/songwriter who used the guitar to create the tone first and the words would follow. It wasn’t until recently did I get the recognition as a guitarist and singer/songwriter.

This new recognition started when Misora first got reissued in Australia in 2006 by Guy Blackman of Chapter Records. Around that release the album started getting radio play in the Western world. Brian Tuner, former music director and DJ at New Jersey’s WFMU, was a big supporter. My first long-form radio interview for the Misora reissue was in 2007 with WFMU’s DJ Joe McGasko. At that time, it had been over ten years since I had performed any tracks off Misora but Joe took me seriously as an artist and encouraged me to start performing again. He had me on his show “Surface Noise” to perform four songs off Misora and two new songs. After that performance I started getting recognized as a guitarist and singer/songwriter, but before then I wasn’t confident enough to even consider myself “a picker.”

That WFMU performance was an amazing experience because it had been so long, that even I was really surprised that I had remembered all the guitar chords and lyrics off Misora. I remember thinking it was a miracle I pulled it off.

All of the tracks on Misora are sung in Japanese, but the music is still so accessible and immediate and touching, even with the language barrier. How do you accomplish that? Do you think that’s a product of the integrity of the music, or intention you put into writing and performing it, or something else? 

Thank you for that. I put a lot of my love and soul into Misora but I thought it was going to be my first and last album, because in the middle of recording it I made the decision to marry Paul Williams [music writer and founder of Crawdaddy Magazine] and leave Japan. Three songs from the album were written after I met Paul and when I’m in love songs pour out of me.

When I first heard The Beatles and Bob Dylan I didn’t understand the words but I totally connected with how they were expressing emotions. This feeling of connection and bringing people together was a goal of mind when making Misora.

Plus, the album was heavily influenced by the Japanese band Happy End and the melodies you hear were influenced by the Western music I grew up on… so seeing the music be reintroduced to Western youth is really nice for me.

In the time since blazing this trail, how has the scene for folk singer/songwriters — especially women — in Japan grown? What has excited you about the progress that’s been made?

I can’t really say, but I know that after I left Japan, I learned of so many singer/songwriters that became very famous in Japan such as Akiko Yano, Minako Yoshida, etc. and they were not afraid to express themselves. Friends have told me if I didn’t leave Japan after recording Misora it might have impacted the singer/songwriter scene there but I don’t know if that’s true.

Are there artists here, in the U.S. that you are listening to right now? Any that get your creative juices flowing?  

I listen to all kinds of music: folk, rock, country, world, classical, jazz, blues, space, and classic movie soundtracks.

Right now, I enjoy listening to Steve Gunn. I love his originality and guitar playing. Steve and I have become very good friends and his playing inspires me to play my guitar more. I love the creative sounds that he makes with his guitar. He has a lot of passion and love of playing; I can both see and hear it. He is a very calm solo performer that plays so naturally I can’t tell when the tuning ends and the song begins. He is one of my favorite musicians right now. He invited me to open for his Bay Area tour earlier this year. He and his band, plus James McNew from Yo La Tengo, backed me up as we performed at SummerStage in Central Park, and Union Pool in New York. I hope someday to perform again with Steve and make a record.

I also still love listening to Joe McGasko’s show “Surface Noise” because he brings interesting new and old artists on, which is how I was introduced to Steve Gunn.

I would love to collaborate again with Mr. Hosono Haroumi, who co-produced Misora.

What do you think are the biggest differences you’ve felt between the scene here, in the U.S., and that in Japan? 

Biggest differences are language and culture. There is more freedom of speech here in United States. People express themselves more openly and say things more directly. It can be seen in American music as well.  I have become more Californian than Japanese over the years, because I have lived in America much longer than in Japan.

Western culture and music influence each other, it is interesting how everything comes together. Music comes around full circle in Japan and America, Eastern and Western worlds vibrate. We influence each other. That is what is happening now and it’s a wonderful thing.

To wrap up, here’s the obligatory, “What’s next?” question: What’s next? This reissue of Misora, decades later, is such a testament to your longevity and your impact — how are you planning to take that further into the future? Are you? 

First, I’d like to say thank you to the label, Light in The Attic Records, who put out a beautiful reissue of Misora this year on vinyl and CD.

I’ve been performing Misora over the last two years and I just performed the whole album in Tokyo for the first time in 46 years since I left Japan. For that Tokyo performance I remixed some of the songs, adding and rearranging some parts. Someday, I would like to make a new version of Misora, applying some of the ideas Mr. Hosono and I couldn’t use in the original 1972 recording.

I’m still writing new songs, but putting out a new version of Misora would be so wonderful. I’m 71 years old now and I’m in the last chapter of my life so as long as I stay well I would love to continue performing for others. To my family, my dear old and new friends, and to Misora fans in the East and West, I love you all and I’m so thankful for your support and love.


Color photos: Yosuke Kitazawa
Black & white photo: Takashi Yamamoto

Matt the Electrician: Just One Song Motivated by a Healthy Sense of Competition

Editor’s Note: Matt the Electrician will take part in the Bluegrass Situation Takeover at The Long Road festival, to be held September 6-8 in Stanford Hall, Leicestershire, England.

In 2007 I was asked to travel to Japan and play a tour of a dozen shows or so. It was my first time there, and actually only my second time out of the US — the first being a short drive into Vancouver, BC a few years earlier. In the subsequent years between, I have toured Japan nearly every year, with a total of 11 trips to date. But at the time, I was a newbie to international traveling, and filled with equal parts wonder and terror. My tour manager/booker/promoter was a man named Shuichi Iwami. I had met Shu a few years before in Austin, at SXSW, and he told me then that he would bring me to Japan someday. He kept his promise.

Shuichi lives in the city of Kure, which is very close to Hiroshima. A few days into the tour, we took a train to Osaka for a gig. When we exited the train station, it was raining, we were carrying guitars and suitcases, and I followed as Shuichi led the way, Mapquest in hand. We walked for what felt like a long time. And in what felt like circles. Eventually, as we started to really get wet, Shu turned to me and said, “I think I am lost. I do not know Osaka very well.” He then directed me to take a seat on the front stoop of a brownstone with the luggage, and said, “Wait here, I will go find the hotel, and then come back and get you.”

Only as he was nearly a block away, did it occur to me, that perhaps this was it. Maybe I now lived in Japan. Bear in mind that while this was not pre-cell phone era, it was pre-smartphone, so while in Japan my little flip phone (it didn’t take pictures either) was mostly useless. I sat on that stoop wondering what my new life in Japan would bring. I watched girls riding by on bicycles while holding umbrellas.

After a while, Shu returned and we walked to the hotel. While he was checking us in, I decided to check my MySpace page on the computer in the lobby. There was a message from my songwriter/bass playing friend Tom Freund. He asked what I was doing, I responded, “I’m in Osaka in the rain.” He wrote me back immediately. “If you don’t write that song right now, then I will.” So I went immediately up to my room and wrote my song, “Osaka in the Rain”

Most importantly, I wrote the song before Tom could write it. I beat him. And if history has taught us anything, it’s that songwriting is a competition, and the scoring is based on speed.


Photo credit: Allison Narro

3×3: Max Jury on Michael Jordan, Joni Mitchell, and a Healthy Respect for Tacos

Artist: Max Jury
Hometown: Des Moines, IA
Latest Album: Max Jury (Out June 3)
Personal Nicknames: MJ. A) Those are my initials B) It helps me pretend I'm Michael Jordan playing for the bulls '96-'97.

If you had to live the life of a character in a song, which song would you choose?
I'd love to live inside the album Hejira by Joni Mitchell. She went on a road trip across America (which she took all by herself) and stayed in random hotels and what not along the way. I'd really like to do something like that — I'm sure I could learn a lot about myself.

Where would you most like to live or visit that you haven't yet?
Japan! I'm really interested in visiting places outside of Western culture and I think Japan would just be so cool. The food, the nightlife, the art … everything. That's definitely on my bucket list.

What was the last thing that made you really mad?
I'm always losing things … even when I make an effort to keep a tab on them — sunglasses, wallets, lighters, clothes — it's very frustrating … but my own fault.

 

#tbt the matching tour – somewhere in Ireland with Bobby, King of Boys Town

A photo posted by Max Jury (@maxwelljury) on

What's the best concert you've ever attended?
I saw the band Low play in a cemetery once, and that was real special albeit in a pretty morbid, dark way. I remember I went with my girlfriend at the time, and we were sitting amongst the headstones. Pretty creepy cool and, in a way, fitting for their music.

What was your favorite grade in school?
Sophomore year of high school … I was able to drive, made some new friends, started thinking about what I wanted out of life … It was a coming of age year for me .

What are you reading right now?
Love Is a Dog from Hell: Charles Bukowski. It's a collection of his poems for the 1970s, I think. I love his voice as a writer and particularly the way he writes about love. It's never sappy or overly sentimental, but can still knock the wind out of me.

 

A rare look at 2011 through the eyes of #crema at #53 it was a simpler time – before my meme addiction

A photo posted by Max Jury (@maxwelljury) on

Whiskey, water, or wine?
At a different time in my life, I would have asked, "Any chance I could grab a whiskey and a wine?" But now I'm all about water.

North or South?
I'm an Iowa boy, so I'm going to say North. But my best friend lives in Chapel Hill and, whenever I go down and visit I find it pretty impossible to leave for a whole host of reasons — but, mostly, palmetto cheese.

Pizza or tacos?
Pizza. Not a huge taco guy. No disrespect to tacos, though.


Photo credit: Christophe Rihet