Tag: Jerry Douglas

MIXTAPE: Mark O’Connor’s Bluegrass Basics

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From Bill Monroe on down the line, bluegrass has always stayed rooted even while it has reached its branches out to embrace each new generation of players. Fiddler Mark O’Connor knows a thing or two about that history, growing up listening to the greats and, eventually, playing with many of them. He collected a dozen bluegrass basic tunes for anyone wanting to explore the form.

Bill Monroe — “New Muleskinner Blues” (1940)
The virtuoso singer Bill Monroe introduced his new bluegrass sound in 1939 to the Grand Ole Opry with “New Muleskinner Blues.” Jimmie Rodgers also called it his “Blue Yodel No. 8” on his recording of the song 10 years earlier. In an Atlanta recording session in 1940, Bill and his Blue Grass Boys revved the song up with his high tenor voice, a faster tempo, and his trademark hard-driving rhythm. Along with his unusual lead mandolin solos and the bluesy fiddling by Tommy Magness, it set the pace for bluegrass to come. I am proud to say that I got to record with Monroe on one of his signature instrumentals, “Gold Rush” in 1992.

Flatt & Scruggs — “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” (1949 Mercury Single)
Flatt and Scruggs made bluegrass wildly successful, bringing it to the mainstream of television, the movies, and to Carnegie Hall. Lester Flatt had, perhaps, a more accessible country music voice than Monroe did, but it was his instrumental counterpart, Earl Scruggs, who lit the music scene up with the perfected five-string banjo roll he adopted from North Carolina banjo pickers. Forward, backward, and alternating, he was an absolute virtuoso on the banjo. I had the Scruggs book and tried to learn banjo the way he did it, as did thousands of others. A thrilling opportunity for me was to record with Earl on his second instrumental banjo album produced by his son Randy Scruggs.

Osborne Brothers — “Rocky Top” (1956)
When the mandolinist and virtuoso singer Bobby Osborne recorded “Ruby, Are You Mad at Your Man?” featuring his astonishingly clear tenor voice, the bluegrass world had another standard-bearing tenor after Monroe. The brothers soon took “Rocky Top” to being one of the most successful bluegrass songs in history. Not many have the chops to sing “Ruby,” but our own Kate Lee sure can in the O’Connor Band! We recorded it in a loving homage to these greats from the 1950s.

The Stanley Brothers — “Angel Band” (mid-1950s)
My mother had nearly 30 Stanley Brothers albums during my childhood. Like with Mozart, mom thought that listening to the Stanley Brothers on the phonograph was good for her children. And it was. Ralph had the most alluring lonesome tenor voice in bluegrass music, and there is no one really close to him on that account. When the old-time mountain soul singer comes in on each chorus to join his brother Carter, Ralph’s was a lonesome, enchanting beauty. The sacred quartet singing of the Stanleys moved the soul.

Doc Watson with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band — “Tennessee Stud” (1972)
When I was 11, this is the album that I actually took to bed with me at night. It replaced my stuff animal and security blanket, I loved it so much. I wanted this music more than anything else really, and so did a lot of people as the three-LP set went platinum. Besides the virtuoso performances on it by Vassar Clements and Earl Scruggs, I was transfixed by Doc Watson’s guitar playing and voice. He was a larger-than-life figure on this recording. I joined Doc on the road, along with his son Merle, for a few years in my early 20s on the fiddle and mandolin, and it gave me the mountain groove for a lifetime that I will never forget.

Old & in the Way with Jerry Garcia, David Grisman, Peter Rowan, and Vassar Clements — “Midnight Moonlight” (1973)
The folkies and hippies from the unlikely bluegrass stronghold of California were blowing minds in the ’70s. For the next generation like me, it appealed to my contemporary sensibilities. These rockers navigated the bluegrass byways with their long hair, virtuoso playing chops, and a modern attitude with the old music. While it was hard for Monroe to accept, this generation of bluegrass was among the best thing that happened to his music. It gave bluegrass music its future, and prevented it from becoming a museum piece. I must have played “Midnight Moonlight” on stage with former Monroe sideman Peter Rowan hundreds of times in the ’80s.

J.D. Crowe and the New South with Tony Rice, Ricky Skaggs, and Jerry Douglas — “Ten Degrees” (1975)
At the same time that the California bluegrassers were establishing the genre’s jamband future, Crowe ran his ship tightly with this group of new bluegrass virtuosos out of Kentucky. In much the same way that Monroe rehearsed his boys, the New South vintage 1975 album achieved perfection in bluegrass music for their time. Ricky became a superstar and Jerry became a person for which the dobro could have been renamed. And there was the legend in the making — Tony Rice. He was defining what bluegrass guitar was to become and, at the same time, bringing modern songs and singing into bluegrass repertoire.

David Grisman Quintet with Tony Rice — “E.M.D.” (1976)
When this album came out, it changed my young life and musical direction. I knew what I wanted to be, all of the sudden. Although I loved the old bluegrass, I could not see myself embarking on a career doing it. Tony’s switch to the DGQ from traditional bluegrass gave many of us bluegrass musicians permission to partake in swing and jazz, and that we did. I got to join the David Grisman Quintet just three years after this recording was made, replacing Tony as the lead guitarist and playing Dawg music.

Strength in Numbers — “Slopes” (1989)
Once upon a time, there was this group of bluegrass players that upped the ante from the swing, modern country, and rock explorations of its predecessors, bringing in modern jazz and classical sensibilities to the bluegrass music, successfully, for the first time. No one really knew what to call it or knew what to do with it, at the time. Decades later, the words “seminal” and “iconic” are ascribed to the five Nashville lads who dared to take it another step further.

Mark O’Connor — “Granny White Ridge” (1991)
This is one of my recordings and one of the biggest-selling albums I have released. Receiving two Grammys, this album put Nashville session musicians from the 1980s front and center. For a blistering track, the bluegrass and newgrass cats of Nashville were summoned: I called on Béla Fleck, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Russ Barrenburg, and Mark Schatz who all rose to the occasion and answered bluegrass’s call once again!

Alison Krauss & Union Station — “Every Time You Say Goodbye” (1992)
Alison made history as the first great female bluegrass star. With the voice of an angel and great bluegrass fiddling to match, she took a page from J.D. Crowe’s seminal bands and made bluegrass about smart, contemporary songs for a new generation of music lovers. Two of my best memories of getting to know Alison are when she beat me in a fiddle contest at age 13 and her parents apologized to me! And when I arranged the old tune “Fishers Hornpipe” for both of us to play fiddles with Yo-Yo Ma. Today we carry that arrangement of the old hornpipe into the O’Connor Band.

Kenny Baker — “Jerusalem Ridge” (1993)
I was like a kid in a candy store when I got to create an album that featured all of my fiddle heroes on it — all 14 of them! But the fun didn’t end there … I got to play fiddle duets with each of them on the album, and recording the very music of theirs that inspired me to play the violin in the first place. The largely out-of-body experience culminated in one of my classic records. For one of the cuts, I got to record with the bluegrass great Kenny Baker on a fiddle tune he wrote with his boss at the time — the Father of Bluegrass, Bill Monroe. Perhaps the greatest bluegrass instrumental tune of all time. We added the tune to the O’Connor Band repertoire as well with our three fiddles in the mix. Always a highlight, it is timeless.

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

7 Artists We’re Itching to See at MerleFest

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As winter begins to thaw and festival season creeps in with the spring flowers, we find ourselves looking forward to one thing: MerleFest. Held in Wilkesboro, North Carolina, the four-day festival — taking place April 27-30 this time around — hosts the biggest names in bluegrass, old-time, and acoustic music, all while providing lucky attendees with local grub, artisan crafts, midnight jams, and scenic nature walks. While we wish we could catch every single artist on this year’s stacked bill, we’ve highlighted seven acts we just can’t miss.

Transatlantic Sessions Hosted by Jerry Douglas and Aly Bain

BBC’s Transatlantic Sessions are well-known for bringing together some of the globe’s best musicians for unforgettable performances. Jerry Douglas and Aly Bain are hosting the MerleFest installment, with scheduled guests including James Taylor, Sarah Jarosz, John Doyle, and more.

Tift Merritt

Recent Squared Roots subject Tift Merritt will bring songs from her excellent new album, Stitch of the World, to MerleFest, hopefully throwing in some old tunes from her far-reaching catalog of thoughtful, incisive folk songs, too.

Mipso

BGS favorites Mipso just released Coming Down the Mountain, a newgrass/pop-folk album that should appeal to those longing for the days of Nickel Creek. Look for a lively, jam-packed set from the North Carolina natives who will also be hosting the BGS Midnight Jam.

Jim Avett

Jim’s sons, the Avett Brothers (maybe you’ve heard of them?), may be headlining the festival, but don’t miss this opportunity to see where the young barn-burners got their chops: from their also-talented father.

Chris Jones and the Night Drivers

You’d be hard-pressed to find a better live act than Chris Jones and his crack band, the Night Drivers. Look for Jones and company to perform tunes from their new album, Made to Move.

Sierra Hull

Sierra Hull, our Artist of the Month way back in January 2016, is hands-down one of the most talented young musicians around — she’s a virtuosic mandolin player with songwriting chops and a sweetly strong singing voice, to boot. Live, Hull is a force to be reckoned with, so don’t miss this chance to catch her perform.

Chatham County Line

Raleigh bluegrass band Chatham County Line have been at it for nearly two decades now, honing an acoustic sound that blends traditional bluegrass with forward-thinking arrangements. Their 2016 album, Autumn, shows the band at their most adventurous, and their live set likely will, too.

Tickets for MerleFest 2017 are on sale now and may be purchased at MerleFest.org or by calling 800.343.7857. An advance ticket discount runs through April 26, 2017. Gate pricing begins on the first day of the festival.

Photo credit: Sasha Israel

Six Stellar Spring Festivals

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SXSW’s Music Festival took over Austin last week, a musical milestone that marks the transition out of winter and into spring. More importantly, it heralds the coming of the spring festival season, with a number of excellent smaller festivals whetting our appetites for the big things to come this summer. Get ready to kiss those winter blues goodbye and check out six of our favorite spring festivals.

Treefort Music Festival — Boise, Idaho — 3/22 – 3/26

Treefort doesn’t limit itself to just one genre of music so, if you enjoy more than roots music, this Idaho fest is a good choice. For the roots fans, though, there’s plenty on tap — Courtney Marie Andrews, Angel Olsen, Joshua James, and many other BGS-approved artists are scheduled to perform.

WinterWonderGrass Tahoe — Squaw Valley, California — 3/30 – 4/2

Yeah, it technically has “winter” in the title, but since it kicks off 10 days after the first day of spring, this California festival gets a pass. Look for Greensky Bluegrass, Yonder Mountain String Band, Sam Bush Band, and many more of your bluegrass faves.

Old Settler’s Music Festival — Driftwood, Texas — 4/20 – 4/23

Enjoy beautiful weather and beautiful scenery at this Texas festival, which is a little over half-an-hour (by car) outside of Austin. Highlights this year include Mandolin Orange, River Whyless, and Sarah Jarosz.

High Water Festival — North Charleston, South Carolina — 4/22 – 4/23

A festival curated by Shovels & Rope? Sign us up! This is the first year the husband-and-wife duo are trying their hand at festival curation and, by the looks of the line-up — which features Charles Bradley, Dawes, John Moreland, and more — it won’t be the last.

MerleFest 2017 — Wilkesboro, North Carolina — 4/27 – 4/30

It goes without saying that MerleFest is one of our favorite festivals, thanks to consistently killer lineups, on-site nature walks, midnight jams, and so much more. This year we have Chatham County Line, Jerry Douglas, and Front Country on our radar.

Shaky Knees Festival — Atlanta, Georgia — 5/12 – 5/14

One of the biggest festivals of the spring season, Shaky Knees brings musicians from around the world to Atlanta for three days of music. Ryan Adams, Dr. Dog, Margaret Glaspy, and Shovels & Rope are among the many artists on the festival’s fifth-anniversary lineup.

Lede photo credit: theglobalpanorama via Foter.com / CC BY-SA

Turn Up the Radio: A Conversation with Woody Platt of Steep Canyon Rangers

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One of our favorite bands is Steep Canyon Rangers, the North Carolina complement of bluegrass boys who’ve spent the last 15 years winning our affections with magical songs and superior playing. Their saga continues this month as they tour the country behind their new album, Radio. Lead singer and guitarist Woody Platt dialed us up from a hotel room in Colorado to chat about what went into making their newest release.

I enjoy learning about what goes on behind the scenes when a band makes a record. So let’s start by talking about the songwriting process. You’re all involved in the songwriting, right?

We are. We have a “whole band” approach to writing our songs. Typically, the bulk of our material starts with Graham [Sharp] and Charles [Humphrey], the band’s banjo and bass players. They’re constantly writing songs. We can be in the studio making a record and they’ll be writing a song for the next record. So, we’ve had a lot of material for this album kickin’ around since we made the previous record, Tell the Ones I Love [in 2013]. Usually, it works out to where half the songs are already together — we’ve been performing them and shaping them and seeing how they work with a live audience — and then the other half take shape and come to life in the studio.

I’d say that, if we have an 11- or 12-song record, typically we might show up with 20 “candidates.” We like the producer to have a clean slate. He doesn't need to know who’s written what song, so there’s no personal interest attached to anything as we approach a record. There’s always the obvious batch that everyone loves, the ones we start with. And then, when we’re rounding the record out, we select from the remaining songs based on what the record needs, to kind of fill out the puzzle at the end. And we appreciate a producer’s input, helping us narrow songs down.

I was going to ask if you decided on the songs before you met with Jerry [Douglas, the album’s producer] or after things got rolling. You read my mind and pretty much answered the question.

Yeah, it’s kind of done throughout. There are the obvious ones that everyone knows should be included and then you round it out.

But, the actual songwriting process is really cool. Usually Graham and Charles present a song to us individually. If it’s something I might sing, they might come to me with a guitar and we’ll learn it. If it seems fitting, we’ll take it to the band. But, every member is involved and I really respect the writers for that. They don’t say, “This is the song. This is how it goes.” They say, “Here’s a song. What do you think?” We’ll try everything — different time signatures, different keys — and the songwriters are very open-minded and accepting of input. That makes the process enjoyable.

It also makes it challenging. As Jerry likes to say, “You turn over every rock.” He was the perfect producer for us at the perfect time. His connection to the tradition of bluegrass — you know, the Country Gentlemen — all the great traditional bluegrass players he learned from and played with. Combine that with his ability to stretch out the music and cross it into other genres, and he was perfect for us, especially since we’ve added percussion to our band. He was the perfect guy to help us stay rooted and explore at the same time.

That’s the key to a good producer … someone who can give you input on the songs and, at the same time, help shape the sound. When you talked about the sound of the record, the texture of it all, what kind of ideas did you throw around?

Well, there are so many things you can do in the studio. [Laughs] There are endless opportunities. For us, we wanted to pretty much capture something we could recreate on stage. We avoided doing a lot of layering, stuff that we can’t do on stage. We did use some delay and a few things that we haven’t used in the past, but those are things we can incorporate into our show. As far as the final soundstage, that was really Jerry’s doing. We trusted him so much. He mainly mixed it with the engineers and we just dropped in. He did a great job.

He really did. It blends the traditional elements of bluegrass but has a very rich, modern texture. A little bit of, dare I say it, “rock 'n' roll.” It’s a little bit beyond what a lot of traditonal bluegrass bands will do these days.

Yeah, we cut the drums, bass, and mandolin in one big cathedral type room. We got the drum sound really rich. Those three instruments are on each other's tracks. The rhythm section has a real room sound, a real live sound, because they’re all together.

That must be it. And I can hear it. It’s also a very light-hearted record and I like that.

We’ve been known to have darker records, thematically. But it’s cool you can hear that coming through on this one.

The first single, “Radio,” is a fun tune, name dropping Casey Kasem and all that. Why did you choose that as as the lead track?

Well, we’ve really been into that song since the first time it came around, since Graham showed it to us. Jerry jumped right on it; he immediately loved the track. It kind of strikes a chord with our generation … how we got music, how you had to chase down and catch it off the radio and try to catch it on a blank cassette. How different that is to how music is listened to today. It seems like a good time to have that throwback kind of thing, to remind our generation and people a little older how it used to be to listen to music.

It was exciting, a sense of anticipation sitting next to the radio …

Absolutely.

… waiting for your song to come on and you’d jump on the button to record it. It was an entirely different world than what my kids experience. They want to hear a song? “Hello, Spotify.”

And then when you’re waiting to listen to a song, you’d hear a bunch of other songs you didn’t even know about. I feel like Spotify and all those other ways of listening to music are so popular right now that it’s a good time to remind people about the radio and other ways you can listen to music.

I like all the songs on the record, but the groove of “Simple Is Me” is pretty infectious, as they say.

It’s got a nice pocket to it. It’s kind of like “Stand And Deliver,” from our last album. It’s one of the songs that came up later in the process of making the record and it really stood out.

I think one of the misconceptions people have outside our little community is that bluegrass doesn’t have a groove. But then you go see any number of different bands — you guys … the McCourys are one that come to mind — and there’s no shortage of groove.

For us, we picked up a lot of groove when we got our percussionist because he’s got that kick drum. He’s really helped us catch a groove. We’ve always had something in the pocket, but it’s really been enhanced by him.

My other favorite is “Blue Velvet Rain.” But, then, I’m a sucker for a country waltz.

Yeah. [Laughs] Charles wrote that. It features a nice quartet vocal, which we’ve always liked to do and focused on. We used to do a lot of a cappella singing and we have the voices to do that stuff. It’s a nice tune; it’s gone over well at our shows.

I had the chance to talk with a friend of yours, James Griggs.

Oh yeah!

Are we hearing his guitars on this record?

Actually, no. I got one of his, but I didn’t play it one the record. My wife [Shannon Whitworth] has one of his guitars and she plays it all the time, every show. He’s a good builder and good friend.

You’re out on the road right now. I’m assuming all these songs are getting workouts.

They are. Gosh, I think nine or 10 of them are in the show. We did a show in Boulder in July and every song we played was from the record. We’re using “Blow Me Away” as a closer; putting “Simple Is Me” and “Radio” at the top of show. They’re all equally exciting right now because they’re all so fresh.

Photo by Sandlin Gaither

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band: An Unbroken Circle

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In 1971, Richard Nixon was president and the United States was divided. It was an era marked by civil rights struggles, Vietnam War demonstrations, and labor union losses. The counterculture movement that evolved in the 1960s was continuing to take shape and was intrinsically linked to the outpouring of a whole generation’s worth of musical innovation. Amidst social upheaval, at a time when your music reflected your politics, a common ground was forged among unlikely sources. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s milestone 1972 album, Will the Circle Be Unbroken, single-handedly bridged generational and cultural gaps by pairing country music veterans with young hippies from Southern California.

“I don't think we realized the sociological impact that that record would have,” says Jeff Hanna, founding singer and guitarist of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. “On the surface, it looked like, 'What the hell are they doing making music together?'”

The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band formed in Long Beach, California, in 1966 and became a staple of the wave of California rock that included acts like the Byrds, the Flying Burrito Brothers, and the Eagles who were all exploring old-time country sounds in their own music. By the time the recording sessions for the Circle record began, the Dirt Band was fresh off the success of their cover of Jerry Jeff Walker’s “Mr. Bojangles,” which had become a Top 10 pop single. Record executives and fans, alike, were anticipating a follow-up in the same vein. But the band’s manger and producer, Bill McEuen — brother of band member John McEuen — had another idea: to get the band in the studio with the bluegrass and country musicians that had influenced them when they were coming up.

“I have a lot of respect for [the Dirt Band] for doing it, for going out on a limb, you know, and doing that kind of thing in the middle of a career that was just really on its way up at that point,” says multi-instrumentalist and longtime Dirt Band collaborator Jerry Douglas. “They were the famous people on the record and their guests were the people that they were introducing to their audience, you see. So it was kind of going out on a limb for them. You know, the record company didn't wanna do it. Nobody wanted to do it. They just kind of pushed it through and it was a success.”

When it came time to recruit a slew of Nashville greats for the project, the generational divide ended up working in the Dirt Band’s favor. Their friendship with the Scruggs family began when Earl Scruggs brought his children, who were fans of the band, to a gig they played at Vanderbilt University in 1970. Scruggs became the first artist they invited to guest on the Circle record. They snagged Doc Watson the same way: his son, Merle, was a fan of the band.

“One of the things that was really interesting with a lot of these acts is, their kids were fans of the band. There was kind of a stamp of approval from the younger generation,” recalls Hanna. “And Merle Watson said something like, ‘Well daddy you love the way they sing and play.’ And also the invitation was, ‘We've got Earl Scruggs.’ And Doc said, ‘Yeah, that sounds like fun,’ so there it went.”

Other guests included heavyweights like Jimmy Martin, Mother Maybelle Carter, and Roy Acuff.

“I mentioned to Bill McEuen, at one point, that I'd read this article about Roy Acuff where he said he'd play real country music with anybody anywhere. And we talked about that and Bill said, ‘Well, let's see if he'll put his money where his mouth is,’” Hanna says.

But Acuff wasn’t an easy sell: His initial meeting with the band didn’t go as well as they were hoping. It turns out that the idea of West Coast hippies in their early 20s recording in Woodland Studios in Nashville was a bit of a hard pill to swallow.

“[Acuff] came in and he was just largely unimpressed with us. He was kind of like — he wasn't totally negative — it's just kind of flat and he said later, ‘Well, I don't trust a man that I can't see his face,’ and we all had like massive beards and mustaches and long hair,” Hanna remembers. “Meanwhile, we got in the studio and recorded our tracks with Merle Travis and, lo and behold, Roy Acuff comes strolling in, or sort of quietly walks in the back of the studio at the end of the day. And Bill played him — it was either ‘Nine-Pound Hammer’ or ‘Dark As a Dungeon’ — one of those. And Roy got this big smile on his face and he said, ‘Well, that ain't nothin' but country. I'll be here tomorrow. Be ready.’ So we cut those tracks, so he was in.”

The result was a monumental cross-generational album that combined genres and styles.

“Just to put it in context: You've got Merle Travis's Travis-picking; you've got Earl Scruggs' Scruggs-style banjo; you've got Maybelle Carter, Carter scratch; and Doc Watson — even though flat-picking isn't named after him, it should be,” says Hanna. “I mean, just all these guys that were just so big in our world.”

The Dirt Band’s love of country and old-time sounds goes way back, so it was a natural progression for them to want to honor and record with these musicians.

“A lot of us got into bluegrass because of the folk boom in the mid-60s. A lot of us also had older siblings and they'd bring home these records by Peter, Paul, and Mary or the the Kingston Trio,” says Hanna. “When I first started playing guitar, I bought a Pete Seeger instructional LP and book that had a section about the Carter Family and Maybelle Carter and her playing style, as well … I was a huge fan of the Everly Brothers. We all were. The Everlys, Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, Chuck Berry, Little Richard: that stuff killed us. But I think something we all had in common was our deep love of the sounds of Appalachia. And blues for that matter. But a lot of it was acoustic music, I've gotta say.”

Singer/songwriter Jackson Browne joined the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band when he was 17 years old, after meeting them at a gig at the Paradox club in Tustin, California, a little town in Orange County. “Getting to play with them was a huge installment in my musical education because I got to sit there and play these really intricate songs,” Browne recalls. “I mean, they were all better players than me, so I learned a lot.”

What struck him immediately about the band, he says, was their vast musical palette.

“The Dirt Band was great because they were true music fans and music aficionados. They weren't just kids that were playing folk music that they heard. They dug deep, is what I'm saying,” says Browne. “They found recordings of the Memphis Jug Band and those things were hard to find. I mean, like that wasn't just lying around. And they were kind of musicologists even then, from the very beginning.”

This year, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band celebrated their 50th anniversary as a band. In commemoration, they returned to Nashville for a star-studded concert at the famed Ryman Auditorium last September, which aired on PBS and was released on DVD. Aptly titled Circlin’ Back, the show was both a nod to the first Circle record and a career retrospective that incorporated the musicians that have impacted the band’s history. Vince Gill, Alison Krauss, Rodney Crowell, Jerry Jeff Walker, John Prine, Jerry Douglas, and Jackson Browne were among the handpicked guests.

“What was even cooler to me than playing the show that night was the rehearsals that we had before,” Douglas recalls. “The first time you do a run-through of one of those songs is so magical. It has all of this extra spark and fear and everything in it. So there were sparks flying in the rehearsal hall when we were doing these things and trying to figure out who played on what.”

Just as the Dirt Band introduced their audience to their earlier influences on the first Circle record, the Circlin’ Back anniversary show connected the next generation of artists and fans together. Musicians like Vince Gill and Jerry Douglas, who remember buying the first Circle record when it came out, are now considered “little brothers” of the Dirt Band. Although they are each musical powerhouses in their own rights, the anniversary show was an opportunity for them to play with some of their heroes.

“I think the first time I played on the song with Jackson Browne that I played lap steel on, I held my breathe through the whole thing,” Douglas says. “I'm such a fan of all of those guys and then they bring Jackson Browne in, and I'm playing on this thing with Jackson Browne and I'm just going nuts inside. So much raw emotion that's happening.”

The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band has always had the ability to tap into emotion. Through their shared love of traditional music, they impacted legions of listeners by bridging generations and styles. Their legacy is littered with stories of parents and children bonding over the first Circle record, which is arguably one of the most significant releases in the history of music. At a time of cultural unrest, it showcased music’s ability to bypass divides and cross boundaries. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band was Americana before Americana had a name, and their genre-bending illustrates the most important facet of music: how it connects us all.

Photo of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in the early 1970s courtesy of the artist.

STREAM: Hugh Prestwood, ‘I Used to Be the Real Me’

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Artist: Hugh Prestwood
Hometown: El Paso, TX
Album: I Used to Be the Real Me
Release Date: November 18
Label: Wildflower Records/Cleopatra Records

In Their Words: "Judy Collins discovered me back around 1978, recorded two of my songs on her Hard Times for Lovers album, and arranged for me to get my first staff songwriter gig. Simply put, she is entirely responsible for me getting my foot in the music biz major league door. It was — and remains — a huge stroke of good fortune. When she got the CD I'd sent, she loved the songs and immediately said she wanted to record some of them herself, and also put out a record of yours truly's on her Wildflower label.

Regarding the 13 songs, four of them have been recorded by other artists: 'The Suit' by Jerry Douglas and James Taylor, 'The Song Remembers When' by Trisha Yearwood, 'April Fool' by Colin Raye, and 'Laura Nadine' by Billy Dean — all wonderful renditions. Most, if not all, pretty much represent my attempts to write great songs without giving much consideration to writing 'hits,' although my basic style always aims at involving a wide audience. I am delighted with, and excited by, this record, and am permanently amazed at my having such remarkable validation and support coming from Judy Collins, a genuine artist whose body of work — recording the Great American Songbook — is peerless." — Hugh Prestwood

Methjaw County Gazette: October Awards Addition

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All you folks round home know that, in addition to writing down the local breaking news for y'all, we're also International Music Celebrities and Appalachian-American Cultrul Icons.

After hundreds of thousands of calls and letters from our fans, and despite the International Bluegrass Music Association's COMMIE CONSPIRYATORIN ANTI-MUSIC Board of Directors not hiring us to host them awards like the people had asked, we decided to go down to Raleigh anyway to see all the little tiny people that make us such big people today.

We enjoyed seeing all of our fans and drinking some of that high dollar beer they got there, but it's no wonder why they couldn't keep the whole thing in MUSIC CITY USA like it used to be. Most of them people couldn't pick their way out of a paper sack. Half the banjos pickers we saw couldn't even afford no picks! Theys just framming and cramming and clawing at it and beating on it like our old Aint Gladys who was the only member of our immediate family who couldn't master a Earl Scruggs style forward roll. She never has had much going on "UP THERE" if you know what we mean, but at least she has sense enough to know when to take a shower and when to quit at that framming in D shit and let the men play the banjo. Caint say that for most of them people down there in Raleigh.

We did, however, have a great time at that awards show despite the two boring and lifeless establishment characters they picked to host it. The people spoke and we won EVERY MAJOR AWARD from Best Dressed and Best Brother Duet Tag Team to Intercontinental Champion! Well … there was ONE award we didn't win and that was Female Vocalist of the Year. That award was split in a tie vote between last year's hosts Eric and Lee Gibson. They caint even win right.

After we won all them awards, we got a phone call from that Jerry Douglas feller asking us if we'd be interested in going into business with him on a new theme park. It's going to be called "Jerry Douglas Presents: Darrellswood featuring Jerry Douglas." More on that next month! Thanks for reading, and remember to check back here at the Bluegrass Situation to find out more news from back home!

STREAM: Michael Cleveland, ‘Fiddler’s Dream’

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Artist: Michael Cleveland
Hometown: Henryville, IN
Album: Fiddler’s Dream
Release Date: October 7
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: "Fiddler's Dream couldn't be a more appropriate title for this album. I got to record material that I've wanted to do for a long time and I got to collaborate with friends and heroes that I've always wanted to record with. I have been writing a lot more in the past few years, so there are six original instrumentals here — three of which are mandolin tunes. Mandolin is an instrument I've always enjoyed playing, but I don't play it publicly much, so it was a real blast to get to record some mando tunes this time around. It's truly an all-star cast of musicians including Jeff White, Sam Bush, Barry Bales, Jason Carter, Vince Gill, Jerry Douglas, Andy Statman, Jeff Guernsey, Lloyd Douglas, and Paul Franklin. You may not have heard as much about Jeff Guernsey or Lloyd Douglas, but I guarantee you will be blown away by their great playing throughout.” — Michael Cleveland

The Producers: Alison Brown

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Forget, just for a moment or two, the fact that Alison Brown is one of the best banjo players alive. Put aside that she’s been playing all her life and has released 11 solo albums and many, many more with various duos and groups. Never mind that she left a lucrative career at Smith Barney to co-found Compass Records and has been honored by the International Bluegrass Music Association with a Distinguished Achievement Award.

Instead, let’s think about Alison Brown strictly as a producer. She has quietly established herself as a creative force on “the other side of the glass,” as she says, forging a style that is precise yet imaginative, grounded in tradition yet anchored in the artist’s own distinctive personality and style. In the last 10 years, she has produced albums by some of the best musicians in bluegrass — young and old alike — starting with Dale Ann Bradley’s Catch Tomorrow in 2006 and following it up with projects by Peter Rowan, the Special Consensus, Susan Greenbaum, Claire Lynch, and — most recently — Quiles & Cloud.

This year she is nominated for two IBMAs — Instrumental Recorded Performance of the Year and Recorded Event of the Year — for her work on the Special Consensus’s “Fireball,” from their recent Brown-helmed album, Long I Ride. A wildly inventive and rambunctiously paced bluegrass jam featuring twin banjos and twin mandolins, the song threatens to fly off the rail with every note, but somehow she and the band manage to keep it all on track.

How did you move from being an artist in the studio to being a producer?

It happened very organically. When we moved home for Compass Records, we bought the Glaser brothers’ former office space. The Glaser brothers were, of course, part of the outlaw movement in country music and they had a legacy studio that was known to the press as Hillbilly Central. It’s where part of the first platinum-selling record in country music was cut and a lot of others, like Waylon Jennings’ Dreaming My Dreams and John Hartford’s Aereo Plain.

All of a sudden, we had this office space that had this legacy studio in it. I think the first record I produced was for Dale Ann Bradley, who is an amazing bluegrass artist from Kentucky, and she just asked if I could do it. I had never really thought too much about producing. I’d always had someone else produce my records, but I agreed to do it. In the process, I really learned that I had learned a lot on the other side of the glass that I could share with somebody else. It was a result of having that space and then realizing that I knew more about the process than I thought I did.

So you’re running Compass out of that building, along with the studio?

Conceptually, it’s the perfect example of vertical integration. The studio is upstairs, and most of the offices are downstairs, except for my office and Garry West’s office. We co-founded the label together. There’s this idea that we could record a track from 10 in the morning to one in the morning, and it could be mixed and up for sale on iTunes by the end of the business day. We can really do the whole thing, starting off with pre-production through getting the record off to mastering. We’ve got someone doing package design. We’re doing publicity, promotions, social media, marketing … with the team downstairs. So it is a soup-to-nuts operation.

What do you remember from those first sessions you produced for Dale Ann Bradley?

I guess I remember two things. First of all, in part, I feel a producer’s job is to make the artist — and, in this case, it was her band, too — as comfortable in the space and as able to do their best work. For people who aren’t used to being in the studio, it can be hard being under the microscope, especially if you’re not doing that every day. I think that’s there’s an aspect of psychology to the job: figuring out what everybody’s fears are, their point of discomfort, what they’re most nervous about having to do, and trying not to put them in that position.

The other thing I remember is that I’ve been fortunate to have my own records produce by some really talented people. David Grisman produced my first record, and I’ve worked with Mike Marshall a bunch, too. I feel like I took a lot of lessons from them, especially the way I look at song structure and the little things you can do to make the recorded version of a song something that bears repeated listening — the little twists and turns and corners of an arrangement. I came to realize that I had learned that lesson and that was something I could bring to bluegrass music, which can, at points, be repetitive. I wanted to try to think about arranging it so that it’s something that people are going to want to come back to over and over and, when they do, hopefully they’ll hear something a little different each time.

People always ask artists about their influences, but I’m always curious to hear about where producers go for inspiration or examples.

I feel like my biggest influence, as a producer, has been the work I got to do with Mike Marshall. He’s one of these prodigy guys who came out of Florida playing mandolin, fiddle, and guitar. He was in the David Grisman Quintet in the ‘80s and had a band on Windham Hill called Montreux. He’s done a lot of stuff with Darol Anger and Chris Thile. He produced a bunch of stuff for me early in my career, and I got to work with him in a band called NewGrange. He’s a remarkable musician, but he’s a great producer, as well. Seeing how he approaches arranging music and getting the most out of instrumental music, I feel Mike’s guiding hand in what I do. I learned so much by the ways he thinks about how to structure songs, which instrument to put on it.

You mentioned the psychological aspect of producing. Can you elaborate on that?

Unless you’re hiring the Nashville Cats, then you can be working with people who are in the studio only once every 18 or 24 months, or maybe it’s only their first or second time. When I go into that situation with a band and I don’t know the guys yet, one of the first things that I’m trying to glean from the situation is that dynamic. I really think that’s important, because we all have things that we’re afraid we can’t deliver the first time: "What’s it going to be like if I can’t nail that solo? Or that vocal take? Or whatever?" I’m always thinking about that. I don’t know if my perspective stems from being female, but I think women approach situations differently. Not that one’s better than the other, but that’s just my approach.

Most of the time I’m playing music, I’m playing with all guys — although things are changing a little bit. When I’ve been in a situation where it’s all women — an all-female band — the approach to building consensus and working together is completely different. It’s a different energy. I don’t know if my approach is gender-specific. When Garry West produces an album, he’s not thinking about what’s in the fridge or on the coffee table for people to eat and drink. But that’s something that’s really important. If you’re going to create, you need to have good snacks. I don’t know what it is about being in the studio, but it makes me think about food. I love to show up to a session with warm banana bread. Something like that really adds to the experience and I think it makes people more comfortable. They’re able to let their guard down and feel like it’s a safe place.

It seems like a crucial tactic, especially in a studio that has such a legacy. I could imagine any musician being intimidated.

Absolutely. If I’d known John Hartford recorded Aereo Plain here, I would have been even more intimidated than I already was. You could set the bar so high for yourself thinking about the other music that’s been recorded in the room, but, at the end of the day, you just have to look at it as there’s great energy in the room, great vibes in the walls, and you have to tap into that. You have to find the joy in making music, because to make music is a real privilege. To the extent that I can make people see that, that’s a really important aspect of my job as a producer.

How do you balance that strategy with challenging people and making sure they can get out of their comfort zone?

I feel like I’m always mixing stuff up on people, and sometimes I worry that I’m doing it too much. One of the ways I really feel like I can add value is, when we start a new tune during pre-production, we’ll just sit around the coffee table and I’ll write out a chart and start to think about how to change things up. I’m always changing chords and throwing out ideas and left turns for people. There’s always an element of change and challenge, but you want to make sure to create a safety net so people aren’t afraid to try. You get people out of their comfort zone of what they’ve practiced and what they’ve prepared to do, but you have to get them comfortable enough to reach for that next thing and know they’re not going to fall off the high wire. There has to be a net there so we can feel encouraged to experiment. It’s always part of the process of making a record, at least for me, where you really grow. Hopefully, you’ve created something that’s better than you are.

So this process not only creates this thing — this song or this album — but it changes you as an artist.

Absolutely. I see the whole act of creation as a real process of self-discovery. You write something you didn’t know you had in you, you come up with an idea and you’re not exactly sure where it came from, and you learn something about yourself in the process. That’s been true for me as a producer, too. I didn’t know that I had that skill in me, but working with the people I’ve gotten to work with and being in the producer’s chair has really helped me discover a different part of myself, too. I really owe those artists a debt of gratitude.

You were talking about making sure songs would have something that would make you want to listen to them again and again. That doesn’t seem like an easy task, especially with a lot of acoustic music, where the arrangements might be pretty spare.

That’s something I think about a lot, because we live in a consumption environment. We listen to music like Ms. Pac-Man. We gobble it up and then we’re on to the next thing to gobble up. In a way, your live performances on YouTube are competing with the recorded versions of the songs you’ve slaved over and spent thousands of dollars to get just right. Why is the consumer seemingly so happy to listen to just some live version at some festival on a Saturday afternoon? What is there to make somebody want to buy the recorded version of it — not just stream it, but own it and have it be something they come back to again and again?

When I look at a chart for a song, what I’m really trying to figure out is how to make a little something happen in this one spot. Maybe you don’t hear it the first time. Maybe you didn’t realize that Kenny Malone was reacting to that lyric the first time you hear it, but when you do catch it, it’s so cool. I’m trying to get the most out of this that I can.

That seems to inform the diversity of your production work, which borrows from a lot of different styles at once. In particular, that song “Empty Train” from Claire Lynch’s new record, sounds like a rock song played on acoustic instruments.

In some ways, that song is an outlier on the record because it’s more jam-oriented. Getting Jerry Douglas in to play the way Jerry Douglas plays opened up a lot of space for the instruments to have something to say and made it different from the other tracks on the record. That was a challenge, and I wasn’t sure, at first, if putting a Celtic tune in there would make sense. But it actually does. It roots the music back to that tradition and serves as a jumping-off point. I guess I do think about how something like that is going to fit within the world of the record.

When I’m thinking about my role as a producer, I’m also thinking about designing an outcome. That comes from being on the business side of it, too. When I start a project, I encourage the artist to think about what kind of outcome they want. Fast-forward 12 months and the record is out there: What are the things you want to see with this record? Do you want a shot at non-comm Triple A radio or a certain bluegrass music awards category? Do you want attention from a certain media outlet? Then you’ve got to make sure you have those ingredients in the project. The worse case is that you don’t think about that ahead of time and then you deliver a record that doesn’t do what you want it to do. Maybe you want to have a shot at an interview with Terry Gross on Fresh Air, but you didn’t create the talking points in the music. So think forward to what you’re trying to accomplish and make sure you incorporate those things into the record.

With Claire’s record, I was definitely thinking about the different radio formats where different tracks could land. There are a couple of tracks with Béla Fleck playing banjo or Stuart Duncan playing fiddle, so those are well-suited for bluegrass stations. But Claire’s music goes in other directions, too. Having Jerry Douglas or Kenny Malone makes it suited for non-comm Triple A. Those are definitely formats where she needs to be.

Bluegrass is a genre that really prizes technical skill. Especially on a record like your own, The Song of the Banjo, how do you make sure that the technical side of the musicianship doesn’t overwhelm the aesthetic aspect of the song?

I’m glad you asked that because that’s something that I was thinking about with that record. What I was trying to do was say, "Hey, the banjo is a beautiful, very lyrical instrument and it can do all this fancy stuff." But I really wanted to serve the melodies, whether they were cover tunes like “Time After Time” or an original tune like “Song of the Banjo.” I didn’t want it to be just about fancy picking as much as just showcasing the lyrical side of the banjo. Don’t do something flashy just because you can. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. The flashy side of the banjo wasn’t as important as the beautiful side of the banjo. If something was flashy but not beautiful, I would have to question why it belonged on the record.

That seems like an idea that comes into play on “Fireball,” off the new Special Consensus record. It’s a rollercoaster of a song, but it never sounds like it’s just a props-for-chops showcase.

I’ve been playing bluegrass for so long, and I’ve spent so many hours listening to it and thinking about it, so I have pretty strong opinions about whether something is tasteful or not. Fortunately, the guys in the Special Consensus all share my opinions. Nobody’s instinct is just to play some licks. Maybe part of that is making sure you have the right guys and girls in the room, too. Part of being a good producer is knowing who to have in the room. When you call Rob Ickes or Stuart Duncan, you’re going to get some great playing, but nothing is going to be inappropriate.

I guess this is my third record for Special Consensus. In some ways, they’re like family, even though the members of the band have changed. The core is pretty much the same on all three records. I know those guys pretty well at this point, and they’re so open to my suggestions and so trusting of my input. Because of that, they’ve helped me grow as a producer. When we were trying to think of a tune to do, I suggested doing “Fireball” with all these twin tuners on the banjo. I’m grateful for them giving it a go. When we sat down to track the thing, we heard that click track and we just all burst out laughing. It does go by lickety-split.

Was that an idea you had specifically for them or something you had been thinking about more generally?

It was neither, really. There’s something that happens when you get into the zone on a project and the people around you are very willing cohorts; it just opens up your mind to good ideas. I just grabbed that tune out of the air. It’s one I’ve always liked, and I thought it would be cool with twin tuners on the banjos, the Scruggs pegs. I wasn’t aware of anyone ever trying to harmonize Scruggs pegs. So the idea popped into my head and, of course, we had to have twin mandolins, too. When you have positive energy in the studio, it really opens to door for some good ideas.

That seems to push the genre forward a bit and show how expansive it can be, rather than just going with what’s traditional or expected.

I completely agree. I’m all for trying to blur the edges a little bit. A band like Special Consensus might seem like a pretty middle-of-the-road bluegrass band in many ways, but in terms of their song selection, they’re definitely open to lyrics that are a little bit different. The title track was written by Robbie Fulks. It’s a great song and it fits the genre, but lyrically it’s a little bit outside the box, which I think is cool. I love traditional bluegrass music, but I’m definitely one who believes it has to evolve to live.

One of the great things about doing a third record with a band is that you’ve been through the process together and you know everybody’s sensitive points and what their strengths and weaknesses are. We’ve made two really good records together, so everybody’s wide open. But it is different when you get a band you’ve never worked with.

As part of the FreshGrass Festival in North Adams, Massachusetts, they have these band contests and duo constests. We’re sponsors with the organizers, and one of the suggestions we made early on was to have contests, because that was such a big part of the scene when I was growing up and I feel it’s a bit missing in what’s going on these days. As part of the prize, the winner gets a session in our studio — with my production guidance, if they want it. As a result, I’ve had a chance to do a couple of projects with people who didn’t know me. That’s a very different dynamic because you have a day and you have a track and it’s all happening on a much faster timeline. It’s a different situation, but it can still yield great results.

How many of those sessions have you done?

We did a session with Quiles & Cloud, who are a great duo. The record was made as a trio, but Maria Quiles and Rory Cloud are the core. They decided to make a full record; they had one day and they added on three more. We recorded them basically live, and the two of them sing such tight, beautiful harmonies. We recorded them facing each other, so close they're touching. That’s how we recorded — playing and singing at the same time. Then I did a session with the guys from Old Salt Union back in the Spring. They had a new song, so they hadn’t really set their arrangement in stone and were open to input. They had this great jam session in the middle, which was fun for all of us and fun to hear them execute it.

What kinds of projects do you have coming up, if you don’t mind me asking?

Let’s see, what am I working on? I’m working on a Bobby Osborne project. He’s 84 years old now. I had him in the studio on a Peter Rowan record that I produced. He was singing and playing great, and he made this comment to me that he didn’t think he was going to get to make another record. I started thinking about that and trying to figure out a way to make that happen. One of the things bluegrass does so well is to honor its elders and, to me, the ultimate way to honor somebody is to give them an opportunity that they didn’t think they were going to get again. That’s the next thing I’m doing, probably this Fall.

I’m also working on a record with Stuart Duncan, who is the best fiddle player in the world. He and I grew up together playing bluegrass in Southern California, and we made a record together when we were teenagers called Pre-Sequel. We’ve had the title for our next record for a long time, and we ‘ve been thinking that we should finally make it. So we’re working on Sequel.

 

For more IBMA Award nominees, read Joseph Terrell's conversation with Sam Bush.

Traditionally Speaking: Shawn Camp in Conversation with Trey Hensley

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“We’re probably just blocks from each other in Nashville,” Shawn Camp tells Trey Hensley once they’ve both joined the conference call line. We can hear the faint sounds of Camp going about his morning routine, rustling around in a kitchen cabinet, and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Hensley gently corrects the assumption: “I’m actually out in L.A. today. We’re playing tonight at a festival. So I’m just getting around this morning, too.”

Even from halfway across the country, the two pickers, singers, and songwriters share close proximity in their musical backgrounds. Camp, the older and more decorated of the two, and Hensley, the promising 20-something, were youthful devotees of some of the same old country and bluegrass records, and their listening provoked the same response: the urge to pick up an instrument and learn the stuff. Having a firm yet flexible grasp on tradition readied them for the variety of musical situations they've found themselves in since — including Camp's Flatt & Scruggs-conjuring supergroup the Earls of Leicester and Hensley's wide-ranging roots duo with dobro master Rob Ickes, both of which have recorded new albums.

On the phone, it takes no time at all for Hensley and Camp to start trading mutual admiration with the modesty of a couple of small-town Southern boys.

You each currently count one of the world’s leading dobro players as a band mate. I’m, of course, talking about Jerry Douglas in the Earls of Leicester and Trey’s duo partner, Rob Ickes. And those two guys have even made all-dobro albums together. Is this is first time your paths have really crossed?

Shawn Camp: I met you at the Station Inn, Trey. Rob sent out an invitation when you guys played over there for the first time, and that’s the first time I ever heard you. Evidently, you’ve been around a lot longer than that. You’re really a talent. Man, I was blown away by your pickin’ and your singin’.

Trey Hensley: Aw, shoot. I sure appreciate it. I remember the night meeting you out there. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time.

SC: Are you on tour out there with Rob?

TH: Yeah, we’re playing a few gigs out here in California this weekend.

SC: Well, hey I wanted to ask you, did you write “My Way Is the Highway”?

TH: Yeah, I sure did.

SC: Good song, man.

TH: Thanks. I appreciate that very much. I’ve not written a whole lot, but I’m trying.

SC: Did you write it by yourself?

TH: Yeah, I sure did. I wrote it several years ago and just kind of threw it out there to Rob one day.

When you were both young and green, you got a taste of what it was like to be welcomed into the lineage of bluegrass tradition by first generation bluegrassers. Trey, you were just a kid when Marty Stuart brought you on the Opry to do a Flatt & Scruggs number, and Earl Scruggs showed up . There’s YouTube evidence of that. And Shawn, you originally came to Nashville for a sideman gig with the Osborne Brothers. I was unable to find YouTube evidence of you playing with them, but I don’t doubt that it’s true.

SC: There’s probably some evidence out there floatin’ around. We played on a Hee Haw episode, and I think we did a few little TV shows when I was with ‘em. I was only with ‘em about six months. I was just a green cushion fiddler between Blaine Sprouse and Glen Duncan, who they wanted when they hired me, I think. I was 20 years old when I moved to town from Arkansas. They heard me out on the road. I was working with a band called Signal Mountain, a bluegrass band out of McAlester, Oklahoma. They saw me playing and wanted me to join them for a while. So that’s how I kinda got my foot in the door in Nashville.

What did receiving that little bit of approval from first-gen legends do for you?

SC: It was an amazing little trip. I’d been growing up listening to their Decca records from the early ‘60s that my dad had. They were of the caliber of Merle Haggard or somebody, at the time. In my mind, they were at that level. So, for just a green kid dropped in the middle of ‘em, all the sudden I’m in overdrive and we’re flying down the interstate. It was exciting for me.

Since you brought up Merle Haggard … Trey, when you were a kid playing around East Tennessee, you went from playing bluegrass to playing Haggard songs with string band instrumentation to plugging in your Tele. You kept shifting in style and material. What did you learn about blending different strains of tradition?

TH: Everything that I was doing was reflective of what I was listening to. The first records I took my own money and bought were Flatt & Scruggs at Carnegie Hall! and Flatt & Scruggs did the Songs of the Famous Carter Family. For the first probably four or five years that I played music, that was mainly what I did — traditional bluegrass music. And yeah, I had the opportunity to play with Marty and Earl and do a song off of the Carter Family album on the Opry not long after I got started. I drew influence from Flatt & Scruggs at the end [of their partnership], which was not one of their most popular eras. They were doing Dylan stuff and everything else. So there was always the influence of kind of breaking out [of the traditional mold].

But there are these definitive moments, like a Merle Haggard record — I kinda knew that that’s what I wanted to do, at that point. So I started doing more country stuff. And then I got the Buck Owens record Carnegie Hall Concert and, that first guitar solo on “Act Naturally,” as soon as I heard that, I went out and bought a Tele and started working on that. When I was playing around where I grew up, a lot of people had grown accustomed to hearing a bluegrass band. It was never like I was doing anything totally different, but going from acoustic to electric did kinda jar a few people’s musical taste. I guess 2008, that’s when I started playing more electric stuff and opened up for Charlie Daniels. I liked doing electric stuff, but I like doing the acoustic stuff maybe a little more.

Shawn, you were talking about your earliest years in Nashville. You’ve ranged far and wide since then in your songwriting and performing careers, from a rockabilly bluegrass duo to the roots supergroup World Famous Headliners and the Earls of Leicester. What was appealing to you about the idea of reviving the Flatt & Scruggs repertoire with this band?

SC: It just had always been in my soul, really. I listened to [Flatt & Scruggs] Live at Carnegie Hall!, too, and had several other Flatt & Scruggs records when I was a kid. I grew up with bluegrass. I just loved Flatt & Scruggs, and it just seemed like it would be a fit. Jerry Douglas called me, and he’d been doing some stuff with Johnny Warren and Charlie Cushman, making banjo and fiddle records with them. He said they were doing a Flatt & Scruggs band and wanted to know if I wanted to be Lester. And I said [goes into his lazily drawling Lester Flatt imitation], “Well, ah, absolutely.”

[Laughter]

SC: So I did. I jumped in there. It’s been fun.

You have a distinct vocal sound. People can easily recognize Shawn Camp’s voice. So what does it require of you to play Lester Flatt?

SC: I just to try to bend the notes the way he did. It kinda adds to the sound. The whole band kinda works off of that tension of those notes being bent. I try to get the phrasing as close to the way that Lester did as possible, but I’m never gonna sound exactly like him. I’d love to, for this show, but it’s never gonna happen. But everybody’s trying their best to fill the shoes of the man that was in the Foggy Mountain Boys, so if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t be doing my part, I don’t think.

I’ve seen you perform in a lot of different kinds of contexts, but I don’t think I’d ever seen you more dressed up than when I caught an Earls show at the Ryman. Was that part of it a hard sell for you? Why is the look essential to doing this stuff?

SC: Actually, I’m probably the one that kept at everybody, saying, “You know, if we’re gonna do this, we’ve gotta look the part.” You can’t do it without the ties. You can’t do it without, at least, the suit. Flatt & Scruggs wore suit jackets. It looked like a good uniform. There was just a little bit of legitimacy to ‘em, you know?

About 25 years ago, I bought an old string tie — a Colonel Sanders tie — at a junk store, still in the package. It had rhinestones on it. When I bought it, I thought, “Man, one of these days, maybe I’ll be in a band that I can actually wear this old thing.” So last year at IBMA, when we were up for several awards, I took that thing out of the package for the first time.

Trey, in your duo with Rob, there’s no set stage wear, although I did notice that the cover of your first album depicted you in a rootsy, rural scene, both of you leaning up against a rusty old truck.

TH: [Chuckles] Yeah, it kinda varies. But I love what you guys are doing, Shawn, from the look on down. It’s awesome.

SC: Well thank you, man. It’s easy to do it when everybody’s playing the part. If one spoke fell out of the wheel, we’d be in trouble.

Trey, you’d been a solo front man leading your own band for years. For just the past couple of years, you’ve been paired with a world-renowned musician. I imagine that, on some of the first tour dates you played with Rob, he was the draw and you were the unknown quantity. Is that pretty much what it felt like?

TH: Oh yeah, absolutely. My wife and I had talked about moving to Nashville for a few years. She was looking at some jobs in Nashville. Right after I’d recorded on the Blue Highway album, I had this conversation with Rob. … Rob called me up and was very nice, complimenting what I was doing and said if I ever wanted to move to Nashville and pick some, that would be great. So that just kinda gave me enough courage. It’s still cool to go to the gigs. There’s people there that know Rob, and it’s nice to play in front of fresh ears.

Shawn, you’ve been most consistently recognized for your songwriting, since you’ve had such success in that arena. What does a celebrated songwriter bring to material that’s much older than him, to songs like “The Train That Carried My Girl from Town,” “Just Ain’t,” and “I’m Working on a Road”?

SC: All I know is, it’s a nice thing to do, for me, as far as I don’t feel the pressure of doing my material. I think the ego kind of disappears, to a degree, within the band. It’s like everybody’s just trying to do something somebody else did the best that they can do. It’s just more fun. It takes a little bit of the alpha dog pressure off of your shoulders. You don’t have to lead the pack so much as just try to be a part of the thing.

A lot of times, when everything’s hinging on the words that you’ve come up with, the show is all leaning on that. You kinda feel like you’re an old rooster on a chopping block: You’re about to get it. You never know if it’s gonna work or not, so you’re kind of vulnerable.

These songs, this material, it’s been tried and true, and you can feel the power of those old songs. It’s a departure from the same old, same old that I’ve had to do here in Nashville. But I’m not done doing that. I want to come back to it and make a regular record soon.

Trey, you and Rob aren’t performing an established canon. You’re casting a fairly broad net with the material you’re assembling alongside your originals. On The Country Blues, you cover Elton John, Ray Charles, and Sonny Boy Williamson along with Merle Haggard and Charlie Daniels. What appeals to you about reuniting these parallel, rooted traditions of country, blues, and R&B?

TH: Even though there’s a lot of different material on the record, I don’t really feel like any of it feels misplaced or anything. When we’re picking songs, even just for a jam session, it all kinda fits — and, if it doesn’t fit, we can recognize that pretty quick. That Elton John song is from Tumbleweed Connection, which has always been one of my favorite records. I kinda threw it out there one day when we were picking, and it pretty much fell into place the way we recorded it.

I’m a big fan of so many different kinds of music. And a lot of the songs, even though they’re by well-known people, it’s kind of important to go on the more obscure side of things. If we’re doing an Elton John song, we sure don’t want to cover “Rocket Man.” Well, there are a few exceptions. We did “Friend of the Devil,” the Grateful Dead song, which is pretty popular, but there’s a totally different spin on it.

SC: You guys sound like a band. I mean, just the two of y’all playing together, it sounds like a band. You guys are so tight. And Rob’s playing these harmony notes against you. It’s a really full sound. I wanna just tell you that. I know you know that, but I want you to know that I know that. You know what I mean?

TH: [Laughs] I sure appreciate that. That is very nice of you to say. This record’s primarily a band, but playing in this duo thing, it’s kinda fun to jump on the bass part or to be able to play something that sounds like a drum, just fill it up the best that we can.

The new album feels very contemporary and jammy, like you were experimenting with guitar tones and effects. Is that what the recording process was like?

TH: Yeah, that’s exactly how it was. We did three or four takes of each song and, for the most part, there would be a whole take that we’d use on the record, but there might be a guitar part from a different take thrown in. We all played something different each time, because there was really no written script. We went in with no charts, no anything — just four main guys, and we had a couple different fiddle players and Ron Block played banjo on a tune. I think that came across: that we were just playing music. Although we were working on an album, it didn’t come across like we were working on an album. We were just kinda having fun.

I think it could work at a jam band festival.

TH: I’m a big Grateful Dead fan. A lot of the jam stuff from my angle comes from that. It was just us kinda jamming on what we like.

Shawn, I’ve seen the Earls circle up around one mic to perform live, like the Foggy Mountain Boys did. How does your approach to recording compare to what they did? Are you using vintage gear and production techniques?

SC: We’re recording just about the same — exactly as they would’ve done it. We’re using old Neumann mics from the ‘40s. On this new album, we used an RCA 77, which once was Earl Scruggs’ banjo mic, that I bought last year. We’re using old, vintage equipment. We kinda cut in a line with the mics kinda set up the same as we work ‘em on stage. The guys on the outside of the line may have, at times, used headphones, but mostly we’re not using headphones. We wanna hear each other naturally around the mics. And there are no overdubs. We didn’t fix anything. So if you hear anything on that record, that’s just the way we played it. It’s not, like, Pro Tools edits and stuff like that going on.

Shawn, you’re a couple of decades further down the musical path than Trey is. Got any good advice for him? Or any bad advice?

SC: I really don’t know what to tell anybody these days. I know the music business has gotten really weird in Nashville. I know that nobody’s making much money. Somebody ran up to Roger Miller one time in an airport and said, “Hey, you got any advice for an up-and-coming songwriter in Nashville?” He said, “Yeah. Keep your change in one pocket and your pills in the other, because I just took my last 37 cents.”

[Laughter]

SC: That was probably good advice. I think Trey just needs to keep doing what he’s doing. You’re doing great, brother. I’m glad you’re doing it. I’d love to hear y’all over the radio every time I turn it on. You’ve got a great voice, reminiscent of Keith Whitley or somebody. I’d love to hear more of it. Love your songwriting, too. Just keep up the good work. That would be my advice.

TH: Man, I sure appreciate it. I’m looking forward to hearing y’all’s new record. The first one, it’s been in my truck since it came out. So I’ll have to head down to the store and pick up the new one, as soon as it comes out.

SC: Let me know when you’re ready to visit one of these days here in Nashville, and we’ll see if we can’t come up with a song together.

Illustration by Abby McMillen. Rob Ickes and Trey Hensley photo by Stacie Huckeba. The Earls of Leicester photo by Anthony Scarlati.