Artist of the Month: Sarah Jarosz

The songs of Sarah Jarosz have always been snapshots. Each, whether literally or obliquely, is a tableau – a window into a moment in time, an attempt to capture but never contain the intangible present. Whether demonstrable story songs or abstract, poetic text paintings, Jarosz’s catalog of material shows a ubiquitous skill – a writerly athleticism – for ushering her listeners into the scenes she inhabits or constructs. From her earliest release to her newest, Polaroid Lovers (out January 26 on Rounder Records), Jarosz’s point of view has been confident, relatable, and inviting.

Simultaneously, the expansive body of work she’s produced since her 2009 Sugar Hill debut, Song Up in Her Head, tells a tale as much of uncertainty as of skill and finesse and, within that uncertainty, a commitment to relishing the journey – rather than rushing toward an arbitrary destination.

A teenager when she first gained national notoriety, Jarosz was often compared to her mentor-peer-friend Chris Thile and her contemporary, Sierra Hull. While child bluegrass, Americana, and string band stars – proverbial and oft-mythologized prodigies – have a much more gentle route to adulthood than say, their Hollywood counterparts, it’s still a time hallmarked by experimentation, growing pains, exploration, and a prerequisite amount of floundering. Musically, Jarosz may have “floundered” a bit less than say, Hull or Thile or any kid whose teen years may have had a recorded, audio history. Nevertheless, you can trace a through line of angst, introspection, and finding oneself underlying the precocious self confidence of her early albums.

By the time Jarosz reached 2013’s Build Me Up From Bones, which gained her her first Best Folk Album Grammy nomination, that uncertainty was no longer an undertone, but a focal point in her music. On both Bones and the follow up full-length, Undercurrent, which then won the Grammy for Best Folk Album, Jarosz picks up and runs with those musical expectations, whether overt or projected. She plays with the dichotomy between the public nature of her growing up a heart-on-her-sleeve songwriter and bluegrass picker and the individual, private nature of seeking and finding her own agency within those paradigms. She purposefully built broad and appealing, commercial songs that are both assured in their sincerity and unconcerned with virtuosity or authenticity for their own sakes. She knows exactly what she’s doing, even – if not especially – when she does not.

Needless to say, the following projects World On The Ground and Blue Heron Suite feel like they are both indelible home bases built on the steady foundation of the albums that led to them. Each are distillations of Jarosz’s musical commitment to bringing her audience inside the turmoil and delight, growth and doubt, beauty and bittersweetness of life and song. Jarosz had arrived at her destination, hadn’t she? In her beloved New York City, a Grammy winning artist, picker, and songwriter who knows who she is and why she does what she does.

Ah, but remember, it’s the journey Sarah Jarosz is after and not the destination. Polaroid Lovers is a lens into the new growing pains, the new uncertainty, the new uprooting and, eventually, re-rooting Jarosz finds herself in the middle of now. She recently moved to Nashville, building a life with her new husband, bassist Jeff Picker. Polaroid Lovers, like its predecessors, brings the listener into how living in Nashville has reshaped Jarosz’s songwriting and creative and recording processes.

It may not sound like a Music Row album – it sounds, as all of her work does, exactly like Sarah Jarosz. Whatever that sounds like! – but it’s a collection that has the Row tangled among its roots and certainly in the water. Polaroid Lovers was recorded at Sound Emporium and produced by Daniel Tashian, plus it has many a credited co-writer, a bit of a departure for the songwriter who, besides in her work with Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins in I’m With Her, rarely co-writes material for her own albums, preferring to pen most lyrics and tunes herself. Music Row and Americana hit writers like Ruston Kelly, Natalie Hemby, Jon Randall, Gordie Sampson, Tashian, and others each lent their own fingerprints and touches to this set of song snapshots.

Does Polaroid Lovers sound new? Does it sound like Nashville? Yes, it certainly does, but it doesn’t sound instant or ready-made either, and it always sounds like quintessential Jarosz. This is evidenced nowhere on the record as strongly as one of its lead singles, “Columbus & 89th.” Among more than a few masterworks in Jarosz’s catalog that center on her beloved, transplanted (former) hometown, New York City, “Columbus & 89th” is perhaps the best example of the form. Wistful and hopeful, with a tinge of bittersweetness from the wisdom that comes with age, it paints such a specific picture – of a literal street corner – but, as in all of her snapshots, this polaroid is not confining or finite, it’s resplendent and limitless. Following the photography metaphor one step further, it’s not difficult to see how the perspective Jarosz has gained by moving away from the city might have enabled her to render such a picture perfect homage to New York.

This is a vibrant, animated collection of Polaroid Lovers. This is Sarah Jarosz at her best– for now.

Watch for our Artist of the Month interview feature with Jarosz to come later this month, plus we’ll do a catalog deep dive and showcase plenty more content pulled from the BGS archives. For now, enjoy our Essential Sarah Jarosz Playlist:


Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

WATCH: Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, “Can’t Live Without Love”

Artist: Bronwyn Keith-Hynes
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Can’t Live Without Love” (Featuring Molly Tuttle, Sam Bush, Bryan Sutton, Jerry Douglas, and more)
Release Date: October 13, 2023 (single); October 17, 2023 (video)
Label: Sugar Petunia Records

In Their Words: “I’m so happy to share a behind the scenes studio video from the recording of my debut vocal single, ‘Can’t Live Without Love’ featuring Molly Tuttle and Sam Bush. This song is the first track I’ve released from my upcoming album, out in Spring 2024. We tracked it last fall in Nashville, at Brent Truitt’s studio, ‘The Cave,’ and it was actually the first song of the first day of recording the album, so it’s kind of fitting it should also be the first song to be released.

“I’m joined by some of my absolute favorite musicians: Jerry Douglas, Bryan Sutton, Dominick Leslie, Wesley Corbett and Jeff Picker. They all brought so much joy and magic to this track! And it was such an honor to get to sing with Molly Tuttle and Sam Bush, both of whom inspire me so much on a musical and personal level. This song by Jamie Hartford is a beautiful meditation on what we can and can’t live without in this life and how we can overcome challenges by focusing on what’s important.” – Bronwyn Keith-Hynes

Track Credits: Written by Jamie Hartford

Co-produced by Brent Truitt and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes
Recorded by Brent Truitt. The Cave, Nashville, TN
Mastered by Alex McCollough. True East Mastering, Nashville, TN

Bronwyn Keith-Hynes – lead vocal, fiddle
Molly Tuttle – harmony vocal
Sam Bush – harmony vocal
Jerry Douglas – Dobro
Bryan Sutton – guitar
Dominick Leslie – mandolin
Wesley Corbett – banjo
Jeff Picker – bass


Photo Credit: Alexa King Stone
Video Credits: Shot at The Cave in Nashville, TN; produced by Steve Voss of Solar Cabin.

East Nash Grass Bring Their Weekly Residency to the World

The avant-garde, southern rock icon Col. Bruce Hampton had a belief that defined his career: don’t take yourself seriously – take what you do seriously. That saying holds strong for East Nash Grass, a group who have entertained the crowds at Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge (in Madison, Tennessee) with incredible bluegrass and charming stage antics every Monday night for nearly six years.

Bluegrass music has a longstanding tradition of bands performing recurring shows. In the 1970s, J.D. Crowe & the New South rose to popularity while performing five nights a week at the Red Slipper Lounge in Lexington, Kentucky. Meanwhile, the Seldom Scene was gaining traction in the Washington, D.C., area with weekly performances at the Red Fox Inn and later the historic Birchmere. Performing that much allowed those bands to not only grow musically, but to grow their own, almost cult-like fanbase.

While the members East Nash Grass – Harry Clark (mandolin), Maddie Denton (fiddle), James Kee (mandolin), Gaven Largent (Dobro), Jeff Picker (bass), and Cory Walker (banjo) – are getting ready to celebrate six years of performing Monday nights at Dee’s, their sophomore record Last Chance to Win is charting No. 4 on Billboard’s Bluegrass Chart, they’re booked at festivals all over the country, and they’re nominated for IBMA’s New Artist of the Year award. 

BGS recently caught up with James Kee and Cory Walker to discuss the new album, the origins of the band, and the longstanding residency at Dee’s.

East Nash Grass started with a rotating cast in 2017, playing every Monday night at Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge. Can you tell me about the origins of the group, and when the lineup came together as something more than a weeknight pickup band? 

James Kee: We had a lot of lineup changes in the early days – we solidified that lineup by 2018 or so, but it wasn’t as strong as the current lineup. We had Maddie [Denton] then, but Cory started playing with us full time in 2019, as did Harry [Clark]. And when that happened, East Nash Grass became serious. We just gelled together. It was super comfortable musically, and also professionally. 

Cory Walker: I got a gig in 2015 or ’16, at Arrington Vineyards, and came up with the band name then. There was such a resurgence of bluegrass in the East Nashville area. Putting together the band, if I couldn’t get this one person on mandolin, there were five others I could call. Then, Harry and I met this guy that worked at Dee’s and wanted to put together a weekly bluegrass show. So that’s how we were associated in the very beginning. But I wasn’t playing every Monday night, and around that same time Harry moved to Lexington for a couple of years to play with the Wooks. 

You’ve definitely become known for your unique stage presence and antics, between (and often during) songs, and you take that same energy from Madison to stages all over the country. How has playing a weekly gig for six years shaped the way you perform?

CW: I’ve played with so many people who use the same old formula. I don’t want to be a mouthpiece for the thing that has always worked. That’s one of the things I love about playing in this band, turning peoples heads upside down. It’s fresh air. 

JK: We’ve each been a sideman in all these different bands, and so many can suck the air out of the room between songs. They’re great, but we really wanted to loosen up from that. I have the same irreverence for the “same old” that Cory does. 

How has your stage presence been received in more traditional performance spaces?

JK: It’s not for everyone, but never any negative experiences. Often, they’re not sure what to think. People might think we do something different than other bands, but we do a lot of the same, just in our own way. We got on the Ryman stage and thanked Tim Allen – twice.

CW: But, he was there… this is really new territory, as far as the stage show. I love to go back to the Dee’s stream from the past week and watch the clown moments, where somebody does something off the wall and then everyone else responds to it in some way. In any other band scenario, that person would be fired, immediately.

Your performances are always unique, but so is this new record. How did you choose material, and go about recording Last Chance to Win?

JK: We knew there were some songs that people wanted us to record, that we’d already been doing. That was “Slippin’ Away,” “How Could I Love Her So Much,” three or four songs. We went in and cut those and got used to the environment, this particular studio and this first album with Jeff [Picker] on bass. I brought a lot of material to the first record, and I wanted to see what everybody else would bring to this one. It ended up having this old-time vibe that just naturally occurred, and so we ended up finishing out the record with more songs that fit that. 

Everyone in East Nash Grass seems to get their own voice, despite each of you having worked for countless solo artists. What’s it like to all come together and cultivate your own fanbase?

CW: Having a band where everyone has a say really makes people care more about the music and want to stick around. Even though we’ve all worked for bigger acts, we’re getting in together at the bottom floor. The people at our release show were primarily our age and younger. Those people will stick around, too. 


Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

2023 Americana Honors & Awards Nominations Announced

The Americana Music Association announced the nominees for its 22nd annual Americana Honors & Awards today at the National Museum of African American Music (NMAAM) in Nashville. This year’s nominations were revealed by host Gina Miller, Senior Vice President and General Manager of MNRK Music Group and member of the Americana Music Association’s Board of Directors. The event was streamed live to the Americana Music Association’s Facebook page and also featured performances from S.G. Goodman, The McCrary Sisters, and Margo Price.

A full list of categories and nominees for the Americana Music Association’s 22nd annual Americana Honors & Awards is below:

ALBUM OF THE YEAR:

Big Time, Angel Olsen; Produced by Angel Olsen and Jonathan Wilson

Can I Take My Hounds To Heaven?, Tyler Childers; Produced by Tyler Childers

El Bueno y el Malo, Hermanos Gutiérrez; Produced by Dan Auerbach

The Man from Waco, Charley Crockett; Produced by Bruce Robison

Strays, Margo Price; Produced by Margo Price and Jonathan Wilson


ARTIST OF THE YEAR:

Charley Crockett

Sierra Ferrell

Margo Price

Allison Russell

Billy Strings


DUO/GROUP OF THE YEAR:

49 Winchester

Caamp

Nickel Creek

Plains

The War and Treaty


EMERGING ACT OF THE YEAR:

Adeem the Artist

S.G. Goodman

William Prince

Thee Sacred Souls

Sunny War


INSTRUMENTALIST OF THE YEAR:

Isa Burke

Allison de Groot

Jeff Picker

SistaStrings – Chauntee and Monique Ross

Kyle Tuttle


SONG OF THE YEAR:

“Change of Heart,” Margo Price; Written by Jeremy Ivey, Margo Price

“I’m Just a Clown,” Charley Crockett; Written by Charley Crockett

“Just Like That,” Bonnie Raitt; Written by Bonnie Raitt

“Something in the Orange,” Zach Bryan; Written by Zach Bryan

“You’re Not Alone,” Allison Russell featuring Brandi Carlile; Written by Allison Russell


Photo of Tyler Childers: David McClister
Photo of Sierra Ferrell: Alysse Gafkjen
Photo of Allison Russell: Marc Baptiste
Photo of Charley Crockett: Bobby Cochran

The String – String Band Special (Wes Corbett, Jeff Picker, and Andrew Marlin)

Bluegrass has an instrumental tradition going back to its Bill Monroe origins and its old-time forebears. Over time, the playing and composing became more refined and exploratory.


LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS

This show features three young masters of contemporary acoustic music who’ve released all-instrumental albums in recent months. I speak with Wes Corbett, banjo player currently with the Sam Bush Band, Jeff Picker, bass player for Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder, and Andrew Marlin, half of the married duo Mandolin Orange. They talk about their new recordings and about the path that led them to write and record without words.

 

WATCH: Sarah Jarosz Puts an Acoustic Spin on a Sinatra Classic

In the afterglow of acclaim from her latest album, Sarah Jarosz kept her YouTube channel active, another creative COVID outlet for the singer-songwriter and picker. Along with releasing videos for songs from World on the Ground, she also contributed to a charming cover song series throughout 2020. Truly a fan’s artist, Jarosz’s effort to generate a regularly flowing stream of content is one of the many reasons why we at BGS and fans everywhere adore her work. (Read Part 1 and Part 2 of our Artist of the Month interview from June of this year.)

Not only is the Texas native’s talent undeniable and her style unique, but Jarosz enhances our day-to-day experiences with each. Unable to tour, she instead filmed renditions of songs by folks like Kacey Musgraves, Bob Dylan, and Maggie Rogers. Here, Jarosz performs a Frank Sinatra classic on mandocello, alongside bassist Jeff Picker. Beautiful and reminiscent of a bygone era, watch as the two breathe Americana life into this timeless jazz number.


Photo credit: Josh Wool

BGS Class of 2020: The Albums and Songs That Inspired Us This Year

At BGS, we seek out roots music from all corners — for those readers encountering us for the first time, we’re not “just bluegrass.” With our annual year-end list, we’ve shaken off the “best of” title and instead gathered 20 recordings that inspired our staff and contributors. For many reasons (but especially the long-awaited return of live music and festivals), we look ahead to 2021, but first… here are the albums and songs that inspired us in 2020.

Courtney Marie Andrews – Old Flowers

Courtney Marie Andrews couldn’t touch my heart deeper. Her music has been the healing salve for the wounds of 2020. To me, she’s the true definition of an artist: A songwriter, a musician, a painter, a writer, a singer, a poet, an activist. My favorite song on her magical 2020 album is “Old Flowers.” It’s the perfect metaphor of resilience and rebirth after suffering, both in love and in life. Becoming whole again. If that ain’t a theme we could all grow from this year, I don’t know what is! – Beth Behrs


Anjimile – “Maker (Acoustic)”

Anjimile’s Giver Taker was the album I can’t stop (and won’t stop) telling people about in 2020. The full version of their single, “Maker” was a beautiful amalgamation of cultures and influences synthesized by an artist not constrained by cultural and creative preconceptions. To me, Anjimile’s acoustic version of the lead single distills the brilliance of their songwriting into its purest form. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


Danny Barnes – Man on Fire

Danny BarnesMan on Fire was a worthwhile gift to us all this year. Over the last couple of years, I’d heard chatter of a project in the works with names like Dave Matthews, John Paul Jones, and Bill Frisell involved. I am constantly in awe of what Barnes can create using the banjo as a pencil. This record was no exception, combining his unique style and songwriting with an electrified crew. – Thomas Cassell


Bonny Light Horseman – “The Roving”

There’s an odd bit of sorcery in the first measures of “The Roving,” a new version of an old folk tune on this supergroup’s debut. It opens tentatively, the instruments falling into the song like autumn leaves: First an acoustic guitar, then cymbals, then piano, all coalescing into a windblown arrangement that’s both understated and sublime. – Stephen Deusner


Bob Dylan – Rough and Rowdy Ways

Packed with jumbles of historic/cultural references and tall tales, bluesy swagger and prayerful romance, and climaxing with the shattered-mirror JFK assassination epic “Murder Most Foul,” Dylan’s first set of originals in a decade is breathtakingly masterful. It’s also, often, hilarious. Nearing 80, the Bard’s as playful as ever. And as poignant. And, justifiably, as cocky. – Steve Hochman

To me, Bob Dylan’s best era started in 1989 with his 26th studio album, Oh Mercy, and continues to this day with his 39th, Rough and Rowdy Ways. “Murder Most Foul” shows us that the master of his generation is as much in control of his folktale troubadour craft as he’s ever been. – Chris Jacobs


Justin Farren – Pretty Free

Knowing nothing about Justin Farren, I was immediately sucked into his evocatively detailed story-songs that involved returning diapers to Costco, getting a “two-paycheck ticket” while trying to impress a girl, and (in the all-too-appropriately-titled for-2020, “Last Year Was The Best Year”) a wild Disneyland adventure. Full of humor, sorrow, regrets and hope, Pretty Free was a musical world I visited often this year. – Michael Berick


Mickey Guyton – “Black Like Me”

Mickey Guyton’s lyrics illuminate the individuality and dilemma of any non-white vocalist in country music, and in particular the difficult journey of Black women in the field. Her performance is gripping and memorable, paying homage to many others who’ve faced ridicule and questions about why they’re daring to perform in an idiom many still feel isn’t suited for their musical style. – Ron Wynn


Sarah Jarosz – “Pay It No Mind”

Atop a Fleetwood Mac-style groove, Sarah Jarosz imagines the advice a distant bird might offer. But her songbird is no sweet, shallow lover. She comes with the weight and wisdom of something more timeless. Jarosz lets her fly via mandolin-fiddle interplay that personifies the tension between the endless sky and the “world on the ground.” – Kim Ruehl


Lydia Loveless – Daughter

“I’m not a liberated woman,” Lydia Loveless declares on her fifth album, “just a country bumpkin dilettante.” Don’t you believe it. Written in the shadow of her 2016 divorce and beautifully sung in a voice both epic and straightforward, Daughter finds this Americana siren at the height of her formidable powers. – David Menconi


Lori McKenna – The Balladeer

Lori McKenna‘s singular talent for capturing the joy in everyday details is on full display, from the church parking lots and hometown haunts of “This Town Is a Woman” to the stubborn tiffs and make-up kisses on “Good Fight.” But The Balladeer acknowledges the hard-as-hell times, too. With gentle accompaniment, commanding melodies, and McKenna’s signature lyrical wit, The Balladeer showcases a modern songwriting master. – Dacey Orr Sivewright


Jeff Picker – With the Bass in Mind

I love “new acoustic music,” but am often afraid I’ll be disappointed by it. Jeff Picker’s With the Bass in Mind immediately eases those worries by offering music that is creative, thoughtful, unexpected, and virtuosic while still feeling grounded and musical. All while effortlessly answering the once-rhetorical question: “What would a solo bluegrass bass album even sound like?” – Tristan Scroggins


William Prince – Reliever

William Prince‘s Reliever feels like the best pep talk I’ve ever had. In particular, “The Spark” finds him astonished with loving a partner who loves him back, no matter his own perceived flaws. As a whole, the album explores complicated emotions with a comforting arrangement (with duties shared by Dave Cobb and Scott Nolan). Sung with assurance by Prince, almost like he’s confiding in you, Reliever is both encouraging and excellent. – Craig Shelburne


Scott Prouty – Shaking Down the Acorns

We’d be remiss in our jobs as procurers of roots music culture to not include this stoically beautiful record on our year-end list of the very best. A hearty collection of 24 (mostly solo) old-time fiddle and banjo songs, there is something ever-present, comforting, and timeless about Prouty’s playing, and I have no doubt this is a record I’ll be revisiting like an old friend for years to come. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


Emily Rockarts – Little Flower

Montreal-based songwriter Emily Rockarts’ debut album Little Flower is one to remember. Produced by Franky Rousseau (Goat Rodeo Sessions), the album features lilting cinematic ballads punctuated with dance-in-your-room indie anthems. Rockarts’ musicianship is undeniable; her stunning melodies and refreshingly earnest lyrics make for a remarkable combination that is unlike anything else I’ve heard. Run, listen to Little Flower now! – Kaia Kater


Sarah Siskind – Modern Appalachia

Sarah Siskind brought her luminous, Nashville-honed songwriting back home to North Carolina a few years ago and let the mountains speak through her. Leading an all-star Asheville band live off the floor at iconic Echo Mountain studio, she’s made a heart-swelling set of songs that gather her special melodic signature, her meticulous craft, and her insight into how a rich musical region is evolving. – Craig Havighurst


Emma Swift – Blonde on the Tracks

Emma Swift reminded the music world of the power that artists have to control their work when she self-released Blonde on the Tracks, an eight-song collection of Bob Dylan covers. Her interpretations are as powerful and innovative as her methodical and thoughtful initial distribution sans streaming services. – Erin McAnally


Julian Taylor – The Ridge

Mohawk singer-songwriter Julian Taylor resides in what is now referred to as Toronto, but his masterful country-folk record, The Ridge, hits your ear as if plucked directly from Taylor’s childhood summers spent on his grandparents’ farm in rural British Columbia. Refracted through Taylor’s crisp, modern arrangements and undiluted emotion, The Ridge seamlessly bridges the elephant-in-the-2020-room chasm between rural and urban — musically, familially, lyrically, and spiritually. – Justin Hiltner


Molly Tuttle, “Standing on the Moon”

2020 has handed us its fair share of cover albums, with stay-at-home orders urging many to reach for the familiar — but none have meshed a variety of musical sources so creatively as Molly Tuttle’s whimsical …but i’d rather be with you. Her version of “Standing on the Moon” is the nostalgic and homesick, Earth-loving galactic trip of my pedal steel-obsessed, Deadhead dreams. – Shelby Williamson


Cory Wong – Trail Songs (Dawn)

A record that I didn’t know I needed came in early August when Vulfpeck guitarist Cory Wong released Trail Songs (Dawn). A change of pace for Wong, it features predominantly acoustic instrumentation and organic sounds. The album kicks off with “Trailhead,” which sounds like a Dan Crary instrumental until the groove drops in the second verse. BGS standbys Chris Thile and Sierra Hull make appearances as an added bonus. – Jonny Therrien


Donovan Woods – “Seeing Other People”

We may seem unsentimental, stoic, unemotional — especially when faced with something like a partner moving on, or a breakup, when it may be easier to seem fine, have a pint, and download Tinder. Donovan’s gift in this song is to show those complicated “yes, and” internal thoughts and emotions. It is beautiful. – Tom Power


MIXTAPE: Jeff Picker’s Low End Rumblings on the Bass in Bluegrass

Maybe I’m biased*, but I’ve always felt that the bass is the most important instrument in the bluegrass band. It might not immediately draw your ear, but a bassist’s interpretation of the groove and harmony of a song holds substantial power over how the song is ultimately felt by the listener. Without a great bassist, a band full of shredders can sound anemic and sad; a heartfelt lyric can seem tedious and derivative. But add some tasty low end, and the same band will soar; the lyric will swell with passion! (Attention sound engineers: simply cranking the subs won’t cut it.) As such, the bassist’s importance in a bluegrass band is considerable.

Even so, great bassists are rarely given their due, unless they also happen to be virtuosic melodic players. Well, that ends today! Here are some examples of masterful low end artistry from some of my favorite denizens of the doghouse. Please excuse the shameless inclusion of one of my own tracks, because, well… I have an album to promote. Enjoy! — Jeff Picker

*I’m definitely biased.

Tony Rice – “Shadows” (Mark Schatz, bass)

Mark is one of my favorite bluegrass bassists. His tone is huge and clear, and his bass lines are subtly creative. On this track, listen to the fluid transitions back and forth between standard bluegrass time and a more open feel. Also note his slick fills and voice leading throughout.

Nashville Bluegrass Band – “Happy on the Mississippi Shores” (Gene Libbea, bass)

If aliens came to earth, demanded to know what bluegrass bass sounded like, and stipulated that I had only one song with which to demonstrate it, I’d play this. Gene Libbea’s feel is perfect; his note choices are just varied enough to add a bit of intrigue to the basic harmony of the song, while never sacrificing the pendulum effect that drives the bluegrass bus. The occasional unison fill with the banjo adds to the fun.

Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys – “Loving You Too Well” (Jack Cooke, bass)

I love this approach to the bluegrass waltz. Jack Cooke’s playing here is busier than what you might hear from many bluegrass bassists these days, and there’s a certain playful and casual quality to it, which I find refreshing. He bounces around between octaves, and between full walking lines and half-notes. Old-school, “open air” bass playing.

Matt Flinner – “Nowthen” (Todd Phillips, bass)

This song may sound slow and simple, but make no mistake: to groove like this, at this tempo, in this exposed instrumentation, is HARD. Todd Phillips demonstrates his mastery here: clear tone, impressive intonation, and intentional, direct timing. I also love how softly Todd plays — at times, he seems to barely touch the bass. To me, that conveys maturity and experience.

Patty Loveless – “Daniel Prayed” (Clarence “Tater” Tate, bass)

I had fun studying the bass playing on this track when I got to perform it with Patty and Ricky Skaggs a few years back. Clarence “Tater” Tate played both bass and fiddle for Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys over the years, and had about as much pedigree in bluegrass as can be achieved. I dig the playing here, because it feels like an old-school, 1950s approach (bouncy, busy, slightly loose bass playing), but with contemporary recording quality. If you focus on the bass, you can tell how much fun he’s having with the slightly crooked form and joyous lyric — it sounds like a musical smile.

Anaïs Mitchell and Jefferson Hamer – “Clyde Waters (Child 216)” (Viktor Krauss, bass)

The first time I heard this song, I didn’t even realize there was bass on it. But I found myself coming back to it, drawn by the story-like quality of the musical arrangement, and I realized that the bass plays a major part in that dynamism. Viktor Krauss displays impeccable taste in his musical choices here. He knows when to play, when not to, when to articulate an additional note, when to sustain. For a player as technically proficient as Viktor, such restraint is impressive. His playing serves the song, first and foremost.

Del McCoury Band – “Learnin’ the Blues” (Mike Bub, bass)

As everybody in Nashville knows, when Mike Bub and his Kay bass show up at a gig, a fat groove is imminent. This track showcases Bub’s rock solid hybrid feel — he bounces between 4/4 walking and half-time, triplet and ghost note fills, and even has a little two-bar break in the middle. This is the type of bass playing that makes it virtually impossible to sound bad (not that Del and the boys needed any help in that department). Bub is also a great guy with a sense of humor and tons of knowledge and stories about Nashville’s music history.

John Hartford – “Howard Hughes’ Blues” (Dave Holland, bass)

Bluegrass as a musical style is pretty specific — there’s room for a wide variety of personal voices, of course, but there are definitely some foundational qualities and vernacular that indicate whether a player is truly versed in the style. On this track, jazz legend Dave Holland sounds like exactly what he is: a jazz musician playing bluegrass. Normally a recipe for disaster, here somehow it works. His tone, feel, note choice, and general approach sound foreign in the style, but they actually mesh with Hartford’s loose and jovial manner quite well. A slightly bizarre but enjoyable approach to bluegrass bass.

Ricky Skaggs – “Walls of Time” (Mark Fain, bass)

I’ve spent a lot of time studying Mark Fain’s playing for my job with Ricky Skaggs, and I’m always finding subtle little musical gems in his bass parts. It’s Mark’s tone, taste, and timing that anchor most of the canonical Kentucky Thunder recordings that we all love. This track showcases his mastery of the bluegrass groove at a slow tempo — listen to the way he spruces up what could be a one-and-five-fest with ghost notes, fills, and syncopation.

Jeff Picker – “Rooster in the Tire Well” (Jeff Picker, bass)

When I was making my new record, With the Bass in Mind, one of my musical goals was to find some space for the bass to shine and for me to use some of the technique I don’t use very often as a sideman. As such, the record has many bass solos. This song has no bass solo, however, since this Mixtape isn’t about bass solos! There are some cool bass lines in it, though (if I do say so myself). I tried to choose my notes carefully, to help anchor the band through the song’s many metric changes.

Robert Plant and Alison Krauss – “Let Your Loss Be Your Lesson” (Dennis Crouch, bass)

This track is not exactly bluegrass, but what an incredibly grooving bass part. Here is a rare example of a time when slap bass was musically appropriate! Dennis is a friend of mine and a great guy and bassist. He plays with gut strings, punchy tone, and undeniably solid time. He’s also the master of throwing in a couple creative measures of voice leading at exactly the right moment in the song. I try to catch Dennis out playing in Nashville whenever I can.

Stan Getz and the Oscar Peterson Trio – “I Want To Be Happy” (Ray Brown, bass)

This is obviously not bluegrass, but no bass-centric mixtape would be complete without tipping the hat to King Ray. His half-time feel throughout the melody is flawless, and just listen to that crushing avalanche of groove beginning around 00:37. Ray is a bluegrasser’s jazz bassist because he plays on top of the beat, and his playing has a relentless forward motion, like the banjo playing of Earl Scruggs. I’ve loved this recording since I was 15 — you won’t find better bass playing anywhere.


Photo credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, “Fiddler’s Pastime”

A handful of pages into her book, How To Do Nothing, artist, scientist, and researcher Jenny Odell makes the point that, under capitalism and the Protestant work ethic somewhere along the way modern human understanding of time transformed from being something that “passes” to being something that’s “spent.” Time is money. Where, in the not too distant rearview, time was not always considered a scarce resource or commodity. Instead of passing the time, we now spend it. 

Mid-pandemic, the distinction between these two perspectives feels even more important. To musicians — especially the working, middle-class set whose income hinges almost entirely on performing and creating constantly — the enforced global pausing of COVID-19 has allowed many the ability to refocus their priorities, retooling creativity to be something by which we all pass time, once again, instead of ravenously spending it. 

Any listener familiar with the bowstrokes of fiddler Bronwyn Keith-Hynes (Mile Twelve) will know this particular fiddler’s favorite pastime is… well, fiddle. The most tangible hallmark of her playing style may be her practice regimen, a preponderance of thought and intention evident in every last note. On her debut solo album, Fiddler’s Pastime, and especially its titular number, the oft-trod licks and turns of phrase she pulls on from those hours of study and rehearsal don’t feel canned or stilted, shoehorned into contexts to impress or beguile. They feel like simple outgrowths of Keith-Hynes’ tender-while-precise playing (and practice).

The musical backdrop of “Fiddler’s Pastime,” provided by Harry Clark (mandolin), Jeff Picker (bass), Jake Stargel (guitar), and producer Wes Corbett (banjo), acts as a cozy base layer of security and support for Keith-Hynes’ sometimes languid or teasingly lazy melodic interplay. But the cherry-on-top of this exquisite Bill Monroe via Kenny Baker cover is Laura Orshaw’s immaculate, identical-level twin fiddle. Awarded Fiddle Performer of the Year from the trad-facing Society for the Preservation of Bluegrass Music of America (SPGBMA) in 2019, Orshaw’s fiddling remains dismally underrated on the national and international scenes. She shines here with her longtime friend and collaborator. 

The dots are seamlessly connected; between Keith-Hynes, Orshaw, and this superlative crackerjack band, Fiddler’s Pastime is one album well-suited for inclusion in our quiver of pastimes to take us through this pandemic isolation.


Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

2018: The Year of Ricky Skaggs

Though he’s just now hitting nominal retirement age, Ricky Skaggs has been a virtuosic presence in the worlds of bluegrass, country, and Americana music for close to 50 years. With his childhood friend, Keith Whitley, he began touring and recording with Ralph Stanley while still in high school; by the time he turned 21, he had done a stint with the Country Gentlemen and become a member of the J. D. Crowe & The New South lineup whose eponymous 1975 album was (and is!) so influential that it’s been known for more than 40 years simply by its catalog number, Rounder 0044.

From there he moved on to intensive studio work; partnering with Jerry Douglas in Boone Creek; a stretch with Emmylou Harris’s Hot Band; and then, in 1981, launching a country career so meteoric that he earned, within four years of his debut recording, the Country Music Association’s top Entertainer of the Year award. Fifteen years later, he returned to bluegrass in spectacular fashion with the album Bluegrass Rules!

It’s no wonder, then, that he’s a newly minted member of the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, though it’s a nifty kind of surprise that he was inducted into both this year — and, while it’s less widely known, he hit the trifecta when he was inducted into the Fiddlers Hall of Fame, too. In short, if you were to call 2018 the Year of Ricky Skaggs, it would be hard to mount a real counter-argument.

A conversation with Skaggs is always a journey through a myriad of subjects, and this one was no exception; we touched on many topics, from his nearly complete recovery from shoulder troubles to his recollection of a conversation with Art Satherly, the legendary producer who worked with Bob Wills, Bill Monroe, and many others. Still, a couple of themes emerged, and it’s fitting that one began with an examination of his under-appreciated role as a fiddle player.

It occurred to me that there are fiddle players in the Bluegrass Hall of Fame already—Chubby Wise, Paul Warren, Kenny Baker, Benny Martin, Bobby Hicks—but there are some other members, like John Hartford, who folks might not think of first as a fiddler but who were players, and that led me to you. I think there’s a whole generation of fans and musicians who might not realize how much you’ve done on the fiddle. Is that something you still do from time to time?

When we went out on the Cooder-White-Skaggs tour, I played quite a bit of fiddle, because we were doing so many country things, like Hank Snow’s “Now And Then (There’s A Fool Such As I),” that Chubby Wise played on, and Ry wanted that fiddle. Sharon did songs that I’d play on, and I played swing fiddle on “Sweet Temptation.” So I played quite a bit on that tour. But I haven’t taken it as seriously as I should have, especially in the last 20 years; I just haven’t kept up on it. And you know, when you do pick one up and it sounds like a cat killing, you start thinking, maybe my days are over on this.

But I’ll tell you, when I was just a kid, and I decided I wanted to play another instrument besides the mandolin, my dad got a guy named Santford Kelly to come over to our house, and he recorded him playing—because especially when it came to playing fiddle, he wanted me to sit at the feet of some old cats that he knew. And now, I’ll play something by Santford Kelly for Andy [Leftwich], or now for Mike [Barnett], and their eyes are as big as silver dollars, and they say, “Oh, my god, will you please teach me how to play that? That doesn’t need to die with you—that sound and that bowing style, and that stuff from the mountains of Appalachia, that’s got to live on.”

When that happened a couple of times, I started really seeing how important it was. I’m always thinking maybe too much about perfection, and I’ve gotta tell you, when I heard Santford Kelly—he was 84 or 85 at the time, and he was scratchy. But it didn’t bother me that he was a little flat and sharp here and there, and a little scratchy on the bow. It was what was coming out of him that went into my heart, that moved me deeply. I thought, this is like Elijah coming off the mountain. This man is carrying something.

So I’ve kind of been saying, well, I’m not really up on it, but I need to shut that crap up. I just do need to play more of that.

You’ve entered three halls of fame this year, so maybe this is a good time to look back. One of the things I’d like to get your impression on is the idea that tradition is not a style, but a way of learning. And you did that, learning directly from older guys like Santford Kelly and Ralph Stanley, but it seems like there’s less of that these days. From the beginning of your return to bluegrass, you’ve made having young people in your band a priority. When you talk about Mike or [banjo player] Russ [Carson] hearing these things, is that something you feel is important — to mentor young musicians, be an active transmitter?

It absolutely is. To me, it’s vital — it’s necessary for the journey, it truly is. It’s manna, it’s food. In the tabernacle of David, where there were four thousand musicians and two thousand singers, you didn’t just fall off a turnip truck and then decide, hey, I’m going to be a musician. No! King David said, “My fingers are trained for battle.” To me, there is training that goes into perfection, goes into your craft. There is something that is really spiritual about this; it’s part of our spirit, it’s part of our nature to be trained.

And that’s truly part of what makes my heart beat, is to train up and to pour into young musicians — and not just men. Like Sarah Jarosz told me one time, “Thank you for letting me get up on stage and play with you when I was 12 years old in Austin.” Or Sierra Hull, or how my music affected Alison [Krauss] in her teenaged years — listening to J. D. [Crowe]’s records, and Boone Creek, and my early country stuff, the harmony singing and just the musicianship, how that encouraged her. I was talking to Becky Buller at the IBMA Red Hat [Amphitheatre], and she talked about how influential the music has been, too.

One of the things that I learned from Ralph was to play it like it was recorded. I remember one time, I’d been listening to Jimmy Gaudreau and some of the other mandolin players of that time a little bit, and one night I played a solo that was a little bit out of the ballpark for the Stanley sound. And I caught Ralph’s face move just slightly over toward me. He didn’t eyeball me, he just kind of turned to the right and listened to me. And when we got off he said, “Rick, you know what I do, when I take breaks, I play it just like I sing it. I want them people to know that when I played that break, they didn’t have to hear me sing, they knowed what that song was. That’s the way I do it.” He didn’t say, the way you did it was not cool, or out of bounds. He did not teach that way; it was so soft, and so nurturing.

And now, I’m always showing Mike stuff — even from the first time I met him, when he auditioned. We sat down and I played him the Stanley Brothers’ Starday recording of “Little Maggie”— one lick, one phrase, after [fiddler] Ralph Mayo’s first solo. Ralph kicks it off, sings one verse, and then Ralph Mayo takes a solo. Well, it’s that next verse, on the line “pretty women are made for lovin’,” on the word “lovin,” Mayo plays this counter-note that’s not even in B, where Ralph’s at. That thing came out of him, and that one note just spoke so loudly right there for me. When I really heard that, I thought “What did he just play!?” and it just lifted my heart to such a place. It was something. And I played it for Mike, and he said “play it again,” and I thought, all right, he’s going to get this job, I know. He’s hearing what I heard, so I knew he was the right one for the job. He heard what Mayo was playing, and he heard my passion for it. And those are the kind of things I want to teach.

Looking at your career, the frequency of your record releases seems to have slowed down. And it seems to me that the recorded end of the business is almost going back to the 50s. Are you just too busy to get into the studio, or is it a lower priority because the business is heading away from that?

Well, as a record company owner, it’s become a financial issue. Having a studio of my own, you’d think that I could do records so much cheaper, but it’s just a fact that the numbers just don’t work when I look at putting $30,00 or $40,000 into a CD and the chances of getting it back in the next three or four years. And I’ve got a big name! I don’t know how, well I guess I do know how, a lot of these record companies do them for $10,000. I would feel really bad about having to do a Kickstarter for Ricky Skaggs. But there’s so much music in my heart that I really want to go in the studio and make, and make it with this incredible band.

But here’s what we’re thinking: I guess I’ve probably got nearly every show that I’ve done in the last four or five years—and recorded on separate tracks, where they could be remixed. So I’ve got a ton of stuff. We’ve got Cooder-White-Skaggs, we’ve got Skaggs and Hornsby stuff, we’ve got Ricky Skaggs with Cody Kilby, Bryan Sutton, all kinds of guests that we’ve had. We’ve got all that recorded. So I really do believe there’s ways of doing it, and I don’t have to own everything; I could just have part ownership.

And I just want to get the music out. I want the world to be able to hear Mike Barnett and Jake Workman, Jeff Picker and Russ Carson. And of course Andy, or hearing Jake playing mandolin or banjo. We’ve got all that stuff, and maybe perfection doesn’t matter so much. I can get stuck in thinking about what used to happen in my life, and what used to be—and here again, I’m figuring out it doesn’t have to be that way. There’s a feel thing that we can miss by having endless tracks on ProTools, endless chances to go back and get another take; usually the first thought that comes into your mind on almost anything is the right one. It’s our stinking thinking that gets involved, and we get to overanalyzing stuff when the spirit is saying, “This is the right way, this is what I put in your mind at that time.” Sometimes you’re better off to just go with that.