Tag: Jimmy Martin

Carrying the Tradition of Bluegrass, The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys Keep on Truckin’

Posted on by Editor

With a strong blue-collar approach to their craft, the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys have been running full throttle ever since forming in 2014 as the house band at Ole Smoky Moonshine Distillery in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Bandleader and mandolin player C.J. Lewandoski says the group embraced the opportunity of “paid practice,” much like J.D. Crowe & The New South did at Lexington, Kentucky’s Red Slipper Lounge in the 1970s. The distillery shows offered traditional bluegrass covers, deep cuts from artists they’re influenced by, and requests mixed in with originals — a heavy mix that always kept their listeners (and often themselves) on their toes.

That same musical direction has been revived on the band’s second album, Never Slow Down, released by Smithsonian Folkways. The new collection sees the now-quintet tackle songs from their musical mentors like the Stanley Brothers, Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard, George Jones, and Jim Lauderdale, along with originals penned by guitarist Josh Rinkel.

In the case of “Ramblin’ Woman,” the cover not only honors Dickens and Gerrard but also acts as the official introduction of fiddler Laura Orshaw to the group, who handles lead vocals on the song. Calling in from their homes in East Tennessee and Boston, Lewandowski and Orshaw spoke with The Bluegrass Situation about how they complement each other musically, how they’re educating and keeping the bluegrass tradition alive, and how Lewandowski came to own Jimmy Martin’s pickup truck.

BGS: C.J., what do you feel like Laura has brought to the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys. And Laura, what do you think the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys have done to push you musically?

Lewandowski: We started as a core of four guys and weren’t even looking to add a fifth piece. At the same time we knew that if we ever did expand it would be with a fiddle. We didn’t want someone coming in that didn’t gel with our musical family. Over time we began bringing different fiddlers with us whenever we had extra money or if the promoters wanted one, but it never fully clicked with the band until Laura came along. She’s helped elevate our sound to a completely different level, one we didn’t even know we needed. She brings so much light to the stage and is very helpful with managerial stuff and structuring harmonies. Even without her fiddle she brings so much to the group with her harmonies. Laura, Jereme [Brown] and I could sing a song; she could lead a song on her own; or I could sing low while Jereme sings middle and she covers a high baritone. Her presence has added so many twists and turns to our music that has helped breathe new life into the songs.

Orshaw: The first time I saw the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys I was intrigued by their energy and all of the interaction between band members on stage. And like CJ said, with four out of five members having the ability to sing lead vocals, the possibilities are endless with what you can do. Everyone has their own unique style and influences that only give more personality to the songs. At the same time, whenever we join forces on harmonies, our voices all blend together seamlessly. Growing up in Pennsylvania it was always difficult finding younger people to play bluegrass music with who were doing their own thing and not just redoing what Flatt & Scruggs or The Stanley Brothers did. That’s what I love about the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys. They very much honor the tradition of bluegrass while at the same time carving their own path in the genre.

Going off that, what are your thoughts on using your music to carry on the bluegrass legacy, helping to keep the tradition alive?

Lewandowski: We’ve always carried that tradition of bluegrass with us. We love how we were raised, the people who have invested in us and the history of the music and will always carry them with us. At the same time, it’s important to us to leave our own mark on the music as well. For instance, with some of the songs Josh wrote it wouldn’t be far-fetched to question if they were written 50 years ago or yesterday. Other songs like “Ramblin’ Woman” act as both an introduction of Laura as a band member and us paying homage to Miss Hazel Dickens.

On “Woke Up With Tears In My Eyes” I’m paying tribute to Damon Black, a farmer turned songwriter from near my hometown in Missouri. In a similar fashion, “The Blues Are Close at Hand” honors Jereme’s dad, Tommy Brown & The County Line Grass. Not everyone is as in-depth on this music as we are, though, which makes it fun when they get one of our CDs and turn it on to play. The song is all new to them, and our hope is that listeners will fall in love with these songs and dive down the rabbit holes of the discographies of the artists who originally wrote them.

It sounds like your mission of preserving the bluegrass tradition led to a perfect marriage between the band and Smithsonian Folkways. How did that partnership come about?

Lewandowski: Smithsonian Folkways has been doing just that, preserving the tradition of bluegrass and American roots music, since 1946. Back then they were traveling the backroads of America, knocking on people’s doors and capturing the music of the country. Much like it was back then, it was them that approached us about partnering. I met John Smith, associate director of Smithsonian Folkways, at Leadership Bluegrass during the IBMA conference in 2017. We didn’t talk much then, but a few months later we were playing Pickathon in Oregon and he approached us there. I remember him asking how things were going with Rounder Records, our label at the time, before saying that Smithsonian would be interested in working with us at some point.

I held on to that invitation for a while. Not long after we decided to take the leap with them. It’s a natural fit for us because John was a fan of the band before we were ever working together. He believed in our music, what we wanted to do and how we were doing it. We shared the mission of historical preservation while also continuing to make our own music in a living, breathing kind of way. As musicians, our hope is that whenever labels come to an end, their assets are donated for preservation purposes to Smithsonian Folkways to keep the history alive, and our partnering with them puts us at the head of it.

Orshaw: When the first generation of bluegrass musicians like Bill Monroe and The Stanley Brothers were making their music for the first time, they weren’t creating it with the mindset of having it sound 50 years old. They were just making something that was exciting and relevant to them and based on their experiences and influences this sound turned into what we call traditional bluegrass. Our influences are just that. We’re not trying to sound like our music is half a century old, but we are trying to think about their spirit of creativity. In their time they were creating something that had never been done before. We’re just trying to keep that same pioneering spirit alive, which has been a challenge, but a fun one to navigate.

I know that another way you’re helping to preserve the bluegrass tradition is by showing off Jimmy Martin’s old pick-up truck during your journeys. How’d you go about getting that piece of history?

Lewandowski: It’s a living piece of history. I still drive it around all the time. People are always intrigued by it, and many of them don’t know who Jimmy Martin was. I’m always happy to tell people about him and stories about the truck. Even people who are familiar with Jimmy love it. In many ways it helps to open the floodgates for people to get into his music for the first time, or the hundredth time.

I got the truck from a friend of mine who was close with Jimmy. He had a Ford pick-up that Jimmy liked so the two traded trucks. He went and got the whole thing restored except for the interior that still has a busted window crank that Jimmy fixed with a bolt and rubber hose and a broken door handle that he replaced with a hook. One day I was at my friend’s house and saw the front of the truck under a tarp while he was trying to sell me something different. When he pulled the tarp up, I immediately knew what it was. I couldn’t believe it. After a couple years of negotiating, I finally got my hands on it. In addition to talking about it with everyday folks, I also got a call recently from Eastern Tennessee State University to come to campus and show the truck off to their bluegrass program. It’s as much an educational tool as it is a way to honor Jimmy’s legacy.

Photo Credit: Amy Richmond

LISTEN: Lonesome River Band, “Mary Ann Is a Pistol”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Lonesome River Band
Hometown: Floyd, Virginia
Song: “Mary Ann Is a Pistol”
Release Date: February 4, 2022
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “The LRB has been doing the Jimmy Martin classic, ‘Mary Ann,’ since around 1985. And it’s been a mainstay in our live shows ever since. Last year, I was digging through a bunch of cassettes I had from the ’80s and ’90s — I still love the sound of them — and ran across one of my favorite records ever by Brother Phelps (check them out if you haven’t heard these albums) recorded in 1995. They did a rocking version of this Dennis Linde song, and the more I listened to it, the more it became a bluegrass song in my head and a perfect song to follow the Jimmy Martin ‘Mary Ann.’ We hope you enjoy our version of ‘Mary Ann Is a Pistol!’” — Sammy Shelor, Lonesome River Band

Crossroads Label Group · Mary Ann Is A Pistol – Lonesome River Band

Photo credit: Courtesy of Lonesome River Band

From Death Metal to a Fishing Boat, How Billy Strings Finds Renewal (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

Billy Strings has had his foot on the gas since he was a teenager, bringing his prolific picking to hundreds of shows around the country each year and winning over a throng of devoted fans in the process. His bluegrass bona fides may be obvious from the outset — he’s quick to cite such greats as Bill Monroe, Doc Watson, and the Stanley Brothers as some of his first musical influences, and no honest spectator could deny his talent on the guitar and mandolin — but astute listeners will also note elements of rock, jam bands, and even heavy metal in his performances, especially as Strings bounds around the stage.

The Nashville-based, Michigan-raised musician’s latest album, Renewal, comes on the heels of an exceptional year: His Rounder Records debut, Home, won the 2020 Grammy award for Best Bluegrass Album. And even as much of the music industry was grounded from touring, his innovative approach to livestreams and digital performances moved the Pollstar Awards to dub him the Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic. But that breakthrough was more than a decade in the making, and the forces that shaped Strings as a prodigious young picker are still at work today, pushing him creatively in the studio and on stage as well as calming him at home between gigs. Here, in the second half of our BGS Artist of the Month interview, Strings tells us about his upbringing, his latest influences, and the way he unwinds between shows.

Editor’s Note: Read the first part of our interview with Billy Strings.

BGS: Tell me about where you grew up. How do you see its impact on your work today?

Billy Strings: I was born in Lansing, Michigan on October 3, which is my grandpa’s birthday. My mother, who lived in Kentucky at the time, had gone up to Lansing to visit her dad on his birthday, and that’s when I decided to show up. [Laughs] So that’s why I was named Billy as well, because that was my grandpa’s name — I was his little birthday gift.

We lived in Morehead, Kentucky, for a couple of years before coming back home to Michigan, where I really grew up. I grew up in a little town called Muir, population 600. My dad is an incredible guitar player, so he taught me how to play. He was always showing me music when I was a little kid: Doc Watson, Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Larry Sparks, and stuff like that — a lot of good bluegrass. We’d hang out at this little campground and play music next to the river by the fire. That was my childhood, man, just sitting there picking by the river.

It was real good until I got to be a teenager and started to turn sour. I had to run off and figure out a new life. I took what my dad taught me when I was a little kid, and all of a sudden I realized that bluegrass is actually pretty sweet and people love this shit — that maybe I could do something with this; that it’s not just something that I do with my dad that I should be halfway embarrassed about.

Who are the artists that you feel really inspired by right now? And are those different than the ones that you feel like you were listening to a lot when you were a kid?

For the most part, it’s still Doc Watson — he’s the main nerve — and Bill Monroe, and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, Ralph Stanley and Carter Stanley, the Stanley Brothers. But I listen to a lot of different shit. I listen to death metal, and lately, I’ve been getting into this music from Mali that Béla Fleck was showing me — some really amazing stuff. And Memphis trap: I’ve been listening to Young Dolph a bunch. There’s just an energy to it. I grew up around crack houses. I’ve seen that shit that they’re rapping about. It just gets me hyped: He’s talking about coming out of nothing and becoming a self-made millionaire. I listen to it before the shows sometimes to get myself hyped up.

You played in rock bands in high school — groups with music that might not sound a lot like what you’re doing today. Is there any lesson or anything from that time that you feel like you still turn to or still apply to the music that you make?

Yeah, performing live. I never learned how to perform in a bluegrass band. I learned how to perform in a metal band. I learned music by playing bluegrass when I was a little kid, but by the time I was doing it on stage it was in a metal band — we were headbanging and running all over the place — and I still can’t help but get into the music like that. I can’t just stand there and play.

You have been in Nashville now for a little while. Has anything that has surprised you about it, good or bad?

I really love Nashville. A lot of your favorite musicians, that’s where they live. You’ll see your favorite singer in the grocery store. I get calls for sessions, and it’s from people who I grew up listening to and who I’ve idolized for my whole life. Like Béla Fleck’s record just came out, and I played a handful of songs on that. I was so honored to play with David Grisman, and Chris Thile, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, and Edgar Meyer — all these cats that are just… well, I don’t feel like I’m really in that league. It really was an honor. And there’ve been several things like that! I went from listening to these cats on a record to being on a first-name basis with them… texting and being friends. It’s a trip.

What’s one thing that’s brought you joy recently?

Fishing. I love bass fishing. I grew up doing that with my dad as well, but I didn’t do it for a long time because I was so busy. When the pandemic hit, I started fishing again. I go out there in rain or shine. I just like it for the solitude. Last night, I was in front of thousands of people, and to come home and go out on my boat and be alone in nature — to check out the blue herons and the fucking ospreys, eagles, fish, everything doing its thing — it’s brought me a lot of joy, brought me down to Earth. I put my boat in at 5 o’clock in the morning when the sun is just coming up. I like being out there alone at that time of day. It’s just good for my mind.

And yet it’s so clear from your performances that interacting with listeners gives you a certain joy, too. What are the forms of feedback that you value most from your audience when you’re playing live?

Sometimes when we finish a solo, everybody starts cheering real loud, the whole place gets real loud. That feels good. But sometimes I look out there and I look around and I see individual people and I literally play to them. Last night, we played in Montana and I was looking around and there was this one dude just standing there with his beer just completely still. I didn’t even know if he was enjoying it or not. So I just walked up to the front of the stage and stared directly at him and I just started playing right to him. [Laughs] So he started laughing, and then he took a drink of his beer and started bobbing his head a little bit. I think he just started getting into it by the end of the show.

I’ll look for things like that. The audience is really in control of how I’m feeling up there. Sometimes, when they’re just on fire, I can’t help but have a good time. They feed us the energy, and we give it back to them. It’s reciprocal.

Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

WATCH: The Royal Hounds, “Pickin’ in the Graveyard”

Posted on by Editor

Artist name: The Royal Hounds
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Pickin’ in the Graveyard”
Album: Whole Lot of Nothin’
Release Date: October 15, 2021

In Their Words: “When I was learning to play bass, I used to go to a bluegrass festival called Old Timer’s Day. It was next to a graveyard. There were so many pickers that many groups would spill over into the graveyard and have pickin’ circles out there. I always loved the idea for a song called ‘Pickin’ in the Graveyard.’ Up the street from where I live is Spring Hill Cemetery. Lots of notables are buried there: Roy Acuff, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Floyd Cramer, Kitty Wells, Hank Snow, and my favorite, John Hartford. I just love the notion that the ghosts of the musicians in this graveyard come out at night and have a grand pickin’ party. The final verse is kind of an homage to John Hartford. In the song, I say, ‘Lower me down in a Batman cloak/ we’ll all ride to heaven in a river boat.’ This is a reference to the fact that Hartford was accidentally buried in a Batman cloak and he had a lifelong fascination with river boats. He even had a license to sail them.” — Scott Hinds, The Royal Hounds

Photo credit: Bill Foster

With These Women Inducted Into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Who Should Be Next?

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For the first time in the thirty year history of the International Bluegrass Music Association a class of Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductees includes a woman in every act. The Hall of Fame, helmed by the IBMA and housed inside the Bluegrass Music Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky, infamously lacks women. Before this year’s class it included ten women, total, and only one woman — Louise Scruggs — had ever been inducted as an individual. All others had been inducted as members of bands, duos, or organizations. 

This year Alison Krauss and Lynn Morris join the rarest rank of individual female inductees, alongside influential manager Louise Scruggs. The Stonemans — including Patti, Donna, and Roni — join the likes of songwriter Dixie Hall, who was inducted with her husband, Tom T.; Polly, Miggie, and Janis of the Lewis Family; Marion Leighton Levy of the Rounder Records founders; Sara and Maybelle of the Carter Family; and Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard.

To mark the occasion, we’re celebrating women in bluegrass who certainly deserve induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, beginning with this year’s inductees. The point is, there is no dearth of women in bluegrass, from way back in its earliest days before the genre even had a name to the big-tent-bluegrass present, and many of whom are more than qualified for inclusion in this hall of honor — as innovators, ambassadors, creators, pickers, and forebears, all.

Alison Krauss 

Arguably the most well-known bluegrass musician to achieve mainstream success, Alison Krauss is a no-brainer addition to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. With her stellar collaborations — with Robert Plant, James Taylor, T Bone Burnett, and so many others — her bluegrass bona fides, her technical prowess as a fiddler, her crystalline and influential vocals, and her unparalleled skill for song interpretation she’s the perfect multi-hyphenate bluegrasser to demonstrate to veteran fans or the uninitiated passers-by what the Hall of Fame is all about. Because, no matter how far Alison Krauss may stray from bluegrass, everything she does remains firmly rooted in her ‘grassy foundations.

Lynn Morris

Lynn Morris remains a criminally underappreciated figure in bluegrass, partly due to her career being prematurely ended by a near-fatal stroke in the late 1990s. In the decades prior, this IBMA Award winner was a powerful and influential banjo player, bandleader, and community-builder, carving out a pathway to success in roots music for herself — given that no pathways were being made available to women like her. Morris’ brand of bluegrass was unflinching, driving, and gritty, and to this day it continues to defy stereotypes about what women can contribute to a music that often holds up maleness and horse race-style competition as currency. While at the same time, she retained a level of tenderness and openness rare in masculine-centered bluegrass. Hopefully this induction will spotlight Morris’ important role in bluegrass’ golden age during the ‘80s and ‘90s. “Love Grown Cold,” a semi-viral hit for Morris on many a bluegrass social media page, is merely the tip of the iceberg of what will be this Hall of Famer’s long-lasting legacy in this music.

The Stoneman Family

Ernest “Pop” Stoneman, father and figurehead of country’s legendary Stoneman family, was the man who started it all. No, literally. Pop is credited with being a keystone picker, performer, and pseudo-producer of 1927’s Bristol sessions, which later came to be considered as the “big bang of country music,” the beginning of the genre’s commercial fortunes. His family of pickers, including Donna, Roni, and Patti, became stars of stage and screen thanks to their showmanship, homespun vibes, and blistering-fast picking. The impact of this musical family on country, bluegrass, and Americana music — as a unit and as individuals — can simply not be overstated. From Hee Haw to the Grand Ole Opry to winning a CMA Award to international tours with their own group and as side musicians, the fingerprints of the Stoneman Family are all over American roots music across the globe.

Wilma Lee & Stoney Cooper

At one point, Wilma Lee & Stoney Cooper were perhaps the most famous bluegrass act in the world, landing several singles and tracks in Billboard’s Hot Country Chart in the ‘50s and ‘60s — notably landing four songs in the Top 10. Not on a bluegrass chart, because such a thing did not yet exist, but on the country chart! Granted, at that time bluegrass was still considered simply a subgenre of country and hillbilly music, but imagine not just one “Wagon Wheel”-level hit to their name, but a handful! And somehow, in modern times, Wilma Lee & Stoney are at best relegated to footnotes and asides. Bluegrass has always been a commercial genre and the commercial success of this pair is alone worth induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, all their other achievements and accolades notwithstanding.

Ola Belle Reed

Ola Belle Reed is more than “I’ve Endured” and more than “High on the Mountain.” A Western North Carolina songwriter and picker, Reed typified the politically- and environmentally-conscious, subversive, and grounded style of musicmaking by Appalachian women who lived through the many upheavals and uncertainties within the region and around the world during the twentieth century. Her songs, like “Tear Down the Fences,” highlight that the south, Appalachia, and the people who live there are not monoliths. Just as Reed’s catalog of influential music is not a monolith, either. Truly a glaring omission from Bluegrass’s hall of honor.

Sally Ann Forrester

Born Wilene Russell, “Sally Ann” or “Billie” Forrester — wife of fiddler Howdy Forrester — was one of only two women to have ever been members of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys. (The other being Bessie Lee Maudlin, another prime candidate for Hall of Fame induction and inclusion in this list.) With the band, Forrester played accordion and sang as well as “keeping the books.” Inducting the women who were Blue Grass Boys, members of THE titular band of bluegrass, just makes sense! But with Forrester, it also represents an all-too-rare opportunity to canonize a bluegrass accordionist for the ages. Why wouldn’t we want to do that!? Take a listen to her accordion fills on “Rocky Road Blues” and just try to come up with a reason why bluegrass accordion isn’t more popular nowadays. Besides the obvious reasons.

Rose Maddox

Rose Maddox is traditionally credited as the first woman to cut a bluegrass album, recording Rose Maddox Sings Bluegrass in 1962 for Capitol Records and including many a bluegrass hit, like “Footprints in the Snow.” Maddox also marked the beginning of a series of women vocalists and musicians in bluegrass who could accomplish the high lonesome sound for which men like Bill Monroe, the Stanley Brothers, the Osborne Brothers, and others were famous. Women who sang old-time and country up to this point often had rounder, more full, resonant, and rich voices, where men in bluegrass were seemingly attempting to shout tenor to dog whistles. Sexists weren’t sure women could replicate that testicles-in-a-vise-grip sound, but Maddox’s powerful voice immediately commands the same attention – and respect – of the highest and most lonesome. To think there used to be a time when people actually thought (or pretended to think) women couldn’t sing bluegrass!

Elizabeth Cotten

A pillar of American folk music, Elizabeth Cotten’s influence and impact knows no bounds, reaching far from downhome blues, ragtime, and old-time and into bluegrass, folk, Americana, rock, pop, and beyond. Her songs and her playing style continue to influence bluegrass today, but Cotten’s true legacy, one that will stretch on into infinity, is that her existence stands as permission for the Other – for marginalized folks like herself, a Black, working class artisan and musician from the South – to exist and to take up space within these historically white and often forbidding and exclusive roots music communities. Elizabeth Cotten is proof positive that the contributions of Black folks to American roots musics, including if not especially bluegrass, were truly seminal, essential, and vital to the music growing and developing into the entity we all love today. Elizabeth Cotten would be an excellent and unimpeachable first Black and African American inductee into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame. Let’s make it happen.

Buffalo Gals

In the 1970s the group considered to be the first bluegrass lineup of all women was Buffalo Gals, including Martha Trachtenberg, Susie Monick, Carol Siegel, Sue Raines, and Nancy Josephson. Their first and only record, First Borne, is finally available digitally and via online streaming platforms, but up until recently was largely forgotten. We featured First Borne in our list of the 50 Greatest Bluegrass Albums by women and retold a now-infamous story about the Buffalo Gals performing in their sleeping bags when a festival promoter gave them a set early in the morning because, you guessed it, who would want to see women perform bluegrass!? Hearing this whimsical, zany mash-up of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” and “Loco-motion” we’d make this group headline. Just sayin’. With bands like Della Mae and Sister Sadie enjoying success and acclaim at all levels of the IBMA, perhaps it’s time to pay tribute to the all-women lineups like the Buffalo Gals who came before and blazed the trail.

Gloria Belle

A woman for a Sunny Mountain Boy! Gloria Belle is most famous as a member of Jimmy Martin’s backing band, but it would almost be an insult to reduce her career to having spent time in the shadow of the King of Bluegrass. She was a fantastic picker, multi-instrumentalist, and singer and the first woman to ever release an album on longtime bluegrass label Rebel Records. In 1999 she received IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement Award after a handful of decades of nonstop recording, touring, and performing in bluegrass. She even made an appearance on the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s fantastically popular Will the Circle Be Unbroken album. Another case of an underrated woman who is constantly referred to on the back end of an ampersand after a man or men, Gloria Belle is a perfect example of a woman who deserves induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame on her own merits first and foremost.

Dolly Parton

Though she’ll often refer to it simply as “mountain music,” Dolly Parton is as bluegrass as they come. Albums like The Grass Is Blue, Heartsongs, and Trio demonstrate this fact to an obvious degree, but it’s worth pointing out — especially within the context of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame — that Parton’s bluegrass runs deeper than just being an offshoot of her musical expression. With the shows and festivals at Dollywood, her collaborations with artists like the Grascals, Rhonda Vincent, and Alison Krauss, and her longtime commitment to philanthropy in her home region of East Tennessee and abroad, Dolly is the perfect example the Hall of Fame could utilize to communicate the importance and value of taking bluegrass ideals and spreading them around the world. Plus, who wouldn’t want a ticket to the IBMA Awards show at which Dolly Parton would be inducted? (Pro tip: Dolly has actually attended the IBMA Awards and performed once before, when The Grass Is Blue was nominated in 2000 and Marty Stuart hosted. Let’s please recreate that show. Please.)

We could continue this list into infinity, and that’s exactly the point. Artists and bands like Alison Brown, Laurie Lewis, Missy Raines, Kathy Kallick, Blue Rose, Emmylou Harris, The Whites, Patty Loveless, and so many others are waiting in the wings, qualified, ready, and willing to step up and thrive under the mantle of Bluegrass Hall of Fame induction. And plenty of young women, femmes, and non-binary folks are waiting to have examples to look up to, to signal to them that bluegrass can be a place where they can also make a home. The concept of a Hall of Fame may seem like an unimportant or inconsequential or self-serving enterprise at times, but it can be so much more than that! We can supply those examples. Let’s do it.

Shaped by String Bands and Bluegrass, John R. Miller Delivers ‘Depreciated’

Posted on by Editor

On his new album Depreciated, John R. Miller shows a true appreciation for traditional country songwriting and progressive bluegrass musicianship, even though his music isn’t neatly defined by either one. A West Virginia native who now lives in Madison, Tennessee, Miller unveiled the material at a club show in Nashville just a few days after the album’s release on Rounder Records. His original songs are rich in detail and humor, although his lyrics can get moody enough to satisfy anybody who’s looking for the darker side of acoustic music. Delivered in his rough-hewn baritone, his songs somehow feel like familiar stories that you want to hear again.

Before returning to the road, Miller caught up with BGS at an East Nashville coffee shop to talk about his acoustic heroes, where he found his first guitar, and why he puts a fiddle in a rock ‘n’ roll band.

BGS: You announced this record by releasing “Lookin’ Over My Shoulder,” which is not exactly a happy song, but it does makes me laugh. What was on your mind as that song was taking shape?

Miller: I wrote that after I moved away from the town I’d lived in for a while. It’s a small-town scenario. When you go back after being away, you’re in the mode of trying to avoid some people. It can be tricky to navigate but I thought it was a funny little song that I didn’t think we would end up recording. Then we rearranged it a little bit and turned it into what it is now – and it’s the first song on the record. You just never know, I guess.

Where is your hometown?

The place where I grew up is just off the highway in the eastern panhandle of West Virginia. It has historically been pretty rural. There’s a lot of development around the highway, so it’s turned into a strip mall highway town. Just over the mountain, it gets real country real quick. But for most of my 20s I lived in a river town called Shepherdstown. It’s small, just a couple of bars in town and everybody knows everybody. That was home for a long time, but I felt like I needed a fresh start, so I moved down here. I spent so much time traveling and felt untethered in the first place. A lot of my friends started getting older and moving away. A few of them actually came down here. This was the next place, where I knew the most people and the most couches to crash on for a little while. I decided to give it a shot and I’m still here.

When did you gravitate toward playing guitar?

I was about 14 when I picked up guitar. My dad had a nylon string guitar in the closet that I never saw him play. I was starting to get into music more, and into punk bands that I found out about from my friends. Basically I was trying to learn power chords on this classical nylon string guitar classical guitar. Eventually I wrote that out and got a Stratocaster and tried to do garage bands in high school.

Were you and your friends listening to acoustic music too?

Maybe not when I was a teenager. We were mostly into indie rock and punk rock growing up, like skater kids. It probably wasn’t until I was 19 that my musical interests expanded a little bit. I started getting into songwriters. The real gateway for me was that Steve Earle and Del McCoury Band album, [1999’s The Mountain], which is one of the best out there. I had already found my way into Steve Earle’s music and then that dovetailed nicely with bluegrass and old-time music with that record. That was a big one for me.

Are you a bluegrass fan?

Oh yeah. I’ve lived in the bluegrass world a little bit and during times in my life a whole lot. I used to play in a string band too. It was more like a fiddle-centric string band, but we did some bluegrass stuff as well and got on that circuit for a little while. There were a couple of guys in the string band that were ahead of me in terms of what they knew about and what they liked, so they helped me learn about a whole lot of stuff.

Who were some of your influences in bluegrass?

I’m a huge Jimmy Martin fan. That stuff’s so cool and just kind of ragged in all the right ways. The Stanley Brothers, of course. There are some modern bluegrass bands that I’ve grown to love a whole lot. Town Mountain is one of the best out there. We crossed paths with them a little bit back in the day and it’s cool to see them still doing it. The Seldom Scene’s Live at the Cellar Door record is a classic too. I really love that. I also really love that early newgrass stuff, like Old & In the Way and John Hartford. That Old & In the Way record was a constant in the van.

Speaking of that, how did you get the idea for “Half Ton Van“?

That song in particular, I spent months looking for an old van to get the band moving. I was on Craigslist and Marketplace a whole lot. I feel like I was seeing a lot of the same tricks, you know? I went to look at a lot of terrible vans. It was a few years ago and I had already been through a few vans with other bands, and it always feels like I’m trying to find one at the last minute. I ended up getting one that was full of rust holes and leaking oil and everything like that. So the song is an amalgam of all those experiences of people trying to sell their junk to you.

At your show, the crowd really responded to “Shenandoah Shakedown,” which surprised me. It has that gothic feel, and seems to be the sleeper on the record.

That one seems to be doing pretty good. I wouldn’t have expected that either because it’s kind of different. It doesn’t strike me as an accessible song necessarily. That one is heavily inspired by living on the river out there. It’s more of a collection of vignettes of time spent up there, and some mushrooms and whatnot involved, you know? Some of the characters are composites but there are specific people in it, for sure.

There’s a lot of fiddle on this record too. Why do you like having that in the mix?

I love fiddle tunes and fiddle music and I spend a lot of time at fiddlers conventions, like the Clifftop Appalachian String Band Music Festival in West Virginia, or in Mt. Airy, North Carolina. It’s been a constant in my life for a really long time now. I’ve got a lot of buddies in that world and I play a little fiddle myself too. It’s a great way to just sit down and play tunes with people. The communal feeling and the non-commerciality of it is really cool. So I’m a little obsessive about it. Putting fiddle in a full rock ‘n’ roll band sounds good to my ears, and I also feel like if it wasn’t there, I would miss it — the presence of it.

Why did you want to include a guitar instrumental, “What’s Left of the Valley,” on here?

I’ve definitely written a couple of guitar pieces, but my partner Chloe really liked that one. I played it for her and it was her idea to just try it in the studio. We took a break from doing the stuff we had on the docket and gave that a try. It ended up feeling so nice, I thought it would be a good way to break up the songs on the record. I like that kind of stuff too, like an instrumental interlude.

At your show I was happy to hear you cover a Gary Stewart song, “Single Again.” What is it about that honky-tonk sound that appeals to you?

Man, it just sounds so cool to me. There’s a really wide range of it but that Gary Stewart stuff is so cool and so nuanced. A really high level of musicianship playing pretty accessible music is pretty awesome. I love country music very much. That’s been my soul food. Early to mid ‘70s is the sweet spot for me.

As a songwriter going into a music career, did you always want to have a full-band sound?

I don’t mind playing by myself — it’s kind of its own thing — but I’ve always played in bands and I love that connection. It’s so much fun. I prefer to be making music with my buddies and I’m fortunate to be playing with the band I’ve got now. They’re easygoing folks and great musicians. We’ve been on the road for a little over a week now and this is the first long tour that we’ve gotten to take together. We’re all getting used to it again.

Listening back to this record now, what goes through your mind?

I’m really proud of the work we did and what I love most about it is that I got to actually sit and play the songs live in a room with some of my close friends. Adam Meisterhans, who played guitar with us the other night, co-produced the record. He and I played in bands in West Virginia. I know him from Shepherdstown too. He’s like a brother to me. So it’s been cool to very intentionally work on a project and have it get finished and work out, you know? It’s nice to know that we did it the way we wanted to.

Photo credit: David McClister

Bluegrass Memoirs: ‘Industrial Strength Bluegrass’ and the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion (Part 1)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On April 22, 1989, Cityfolk, a Dayton, Ohio-based concert series, mounted their most ambitious evening to date, The Dayton Bluegrass Reunion, “An All-Star Salute to Dayton’s 40 Year Bluegrass History.” It was held at Memorial Hall in downtown Dayton.

I’m reminded of this concert now because of an essay I wrote for its program booklet: “Industrial Strength Bluegrass.” That is the title of a new book by Fred Bartenstein and Curtis W. Ellison, subtitled “Southwestern Ohio’s Musical Legacy.” This anthology presents a remarkable in-depth portrait of a key regional bluegrass scene, which co-author Bartenstein has likened to seminal regional scenes in other genres like blues (Chicago) and jazz (New Orleans).

In March, Smithsonian Folkways released a 16-track album with the same title, edited by Joe Mullins and son Daniel Mullins. On it are 16 contemporary recordings by today’s leading bluegrass artists, doing the region’s key repertoire — like “Once More,” the Osborne Brothers and Red Allen’s 1958 high lead trio, recreated on the album by The Grascals; and “20/20 Vision” by Jimmy Martin and Osborne Brothers in 1954, done here by Dan Tyminski. Joe Mullins opens the album with his band, The Radio Ramblers, doing “Readin’, Rightin’, Route 23,” an anthem to the Appalachian migrants who nurtured bluegrass in the region.

My experience with the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion began in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in the fall of ’87 at an annual meeting of the American Folklore Society (AFS). One month to the day after the Earl Scruggs Celebration, I met Phyllis Brzozowska, executive director of Cityfolk, “an arts organization,” as she later wrote, “working full time to bring to the public the variety and excellence that exists in traditional arts today.” 

Phyllis grew up with Irish dancing in Dayton. By 1978 she had a Celtic music radio show on WYSO-FM, the Antioch College station, and began booking bands. “A band I knew from Pittsburgh called ‘Devilish Mary’ was coming through town. They were a great dance band that played ole’ timey music and Irish traditional music.” She and a friend organized a “ceili” at a downtown club in Dayton. By 1981 she’d formed Cityfolk. 

By 1987, Cityfolk had branched out from Irish to include other roots music in their events — including bluegrass. In the 1980s a broadening of interest in the traditional arts was nurtured through public sector folklore lobbying in Washington. The Festival of American Folklife, established in 1967 by Ralph Rinzler at the Smithsonian, led to the establishment of a Folk Arts department at the National Endowment for the Arts and the creation of the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress. The National Folk Festival, around since the ’30s, moved to Washington and became the National Council for Traditional Arts (NCTA) in 1976. 

These national institutions supported performing arts markets for traditional artists. Local and regional arts organizations like Cityfolk and PineCone grew and flourished during the ’80s, and public folklorists were active in the AFS. Phyllis was wanting to talk with me because I’d written a book about bluegrass. She was planning a reunion concert to celebrate 40 years of bluegrass in Dayton, applying for funding from the Ohio Arts Council and the Dayton Performing Arts Fund. She asked me if I would work as a consultant and writer for this event’s program. 

Brzozowska wanted to tell the story of bluegrass in Dayton as dramatically as possible, so they were hiring Don Baker, “one of the leading theater directors in the South.” Baker had grown up in Appalachia and started his career at Appalshop in Whitesburg, Kentucky. In 1984 he co-founded Lime Kiln, a theater in Lexington, Virginia. 

For the Reunion, Brzozowska later recalled, Baker “constructed a theatrical foundation on which the music and narrative would be presented. He also designed the set, contributed input to the script, set the pacing of the show and when the lights went up, was the perfect stage M.C. for the evening.” 

In producing the show Brzozowska took counsel from three Dayton old hands — Harley Allen, Fred Bartenstein, and Paul “Moon” Mullins. Additional input came from old-time fiddler and Dayton City librarian Barb Kuhns and writer-musician Larry Nager. As a consultant and writer, I worked with them on the planning of the concert and on program booklet. I also helped backstage on the night of the concert. 

My experiences with southwestern Ohio bluegrass began in the late fifties. Oberlin classmate Jeff Piker came from Cincinnati as a freshman in ’58. Inspired by a Pete Seeger concert at Antioch, he’d bought a used Vega banjo at a music shop in the Appalachian migrant neighborhood of Over-The-Rhine that Nathan McGee writes about in Industrial Strength Bluegrass (pp. 164, 166). It had homemade Scruggs pegs! 

That made Piker a popular guy with us campus bluegrass jammers. We all borrowed the banjo to learn how to use the pegs. During the January 1959 winter break we took it with us when we went to Yellow Springs to visit Antioch College friends. Bluegrass was catching on there. 

Chuck Crawford, Neil V. Rosenberg, Franklin Miller III at Pyle Inn, Oberlin, Ohio, January 1959

A year later, in March 1960, our band opened for the Osborne Brothers at Antioch. I’ve written about that in Bluegrass: A History (pp. 155-58). In 1962, another band I was in opened at Antioch, for Sid Campbell and Frank Wakefield, and I’ve written about that too, in Bluegrass Generation: A Memoir (119-123).

One detail from that 1960 concert I didn’t mention: when Jeremy Foster called to invite us to open the show for the Osbornes, he said he’d booked the Osborne Brothers because they were nearby and available. We knew of this band only from the sound of their MGM album, The Osborne Brothers and Red Allen. Jeremy was disappointed that they had changed — Red Allen was no longer with them. That made their music less appealing to him. But, as I learned later, Bobby and Sonny didn’t want fancy guitar backup and didn’t need a flashy lead singer. They were focused on their trio.

In the fall of 1963, when I was managing Bill Monroe’s park, the Brown County Jamboree, in Bean Blossom, Indiana, we got reacquainted when they gave their first show there (Bluegrass Generation, pp. 224-226). With Benny Birchfield playing guitar and singing the lowest voice in the trio, they had moved from MGM to Decca. Their first single, “Take This Hammer,” had just come out. Their final MGM album, Cutting the Grass, was due out soon.

They were polishing the high lead trio they’d been working on for five years. That winter I taped them guesting on the WSM’s after-the-Opry broadcast, Ernest Tubb’s Midnite Jamboree. Their harmonies were attracting attention in country music circles.

At Bean Blossom, Bobby and Sonny had told me about their regular Thursday night gigs Ruby’s White Sands in Dayton and invited me to come over some time. In May ’64, Jim Work and I took friends from California, Jerry Garcia and Sandy Rothman, to see them there. 

The Osbornes joined the Opry a few months later. By then they were coming to Bean Blossom twice a year and we’d gotten better acquainted. “Banjer” talk with Sonny was always entertaining. He had experimental bridges, banjos, and capos. On stage, he had great new licks for every show. 

With Bobby I shared an interest in bluegrass history. One Sunday in 1964 I invited the band back to our apartment in Bloomington for supper. While they were there I showed Bobby the work I was doing on the Bill Monroe discography and asked him if he was interested in doing something like that for the Osborne Brothers. He was. We began corresponding about their discography, and started trading tapes.

Benny Birchfield left the Osborne Brothers at the end of ’65. The following spring, in Cincinnati for an academic meeting, I ran into him at the Ken-Mill Café in Over-The-Rhine. He was playing bass in a band that included lead singer and guitarist Jim McCall, with Vernon McIntyre Jr. on banjo. Benny introduced me to the band as a banjo picker from Bean Blossom and invited me to sit in for a set on banjo. That was fun.

On Labor Day, 1966, Carlton Haney held his second Roanoke Bluegrass Festival in Fincastle, Virginia. The Osborne Brothers were there — riding high with their first charted Decca hit, “Up This Hill and Down.” Their Sunday trio on “I Hear A Sweet Voice Calling” with Bill Monroe was one of the high points of the festival that year — a religious experience for many who heard it. 

At that festival, my first, I finally met Pete Kuykendall. We’d been corresponding and trading tapes for several years, and he’d published bluegrass discographies in the mimeo magazine Disc Collector. Now he was promoting a new bluegrass monthly, Bluegrass Unlimited. I told him about the Osborne Brothers discography, and he agreed to publish it in BU (it appeared the following July). Promoter Haney invited me to join him, Ralph Rinzler, and Mayne Smith in introducing Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys and The Osborne Brothers in a special broadcast about the festival on the local TV channel.

In April 1967 I saw them at a club outside Indianapolis. The third voice in the trio was now being sung by Harley Gabbard, later the co-founder of The Boys from Indiana. His name comes up often in Mac McDivitt’s chapter on the southwest Ohio recording scene in Industrial Strength Bluegrass (pp. 43-76). One of Gabbard’s contributions to the regional repertoire, “Family Reunion,” written with his nephew, Aubrey Holt, is performed on the new Folkways CD by Rhonda Vincent and Caleb Daugherty. 

I saw Gabbard again the following October when he dropped in and sang bass on one cut we were recording for George Brock’s gospel album at Rusty York‘s Jewel Records in Mt. Healthy, Ohio. McDivitt’s chapter also devotes a section (pp. 63-65) to Jewel and York’s remarkable careers in bluegrass and rockabilly. Here’s Harley Gabbard with the Osbornes doing what was, as of May ’67, their new single: “Roll Muddy River.”

So, during the years I’d lived in Indiana (1961-68) I’d dipped into the Southwestern Ohio bluegrass scene a number of times. I knew some of the music, some of the people and some of the history. But I had been living in Newfoundland for twenty years. Fortunately Barb Kuhns (Dayton City librarian) and Larry Nager knew the Dayton region scene deeply in a way I didn’t, which was essential, because the sequence and repertoire of the concert had to reflect the drama of the reunion story.

(Editor’s Note: Read part two here.)

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

Photo of Neil V. Rosenberg: Terri Thomson Rosenberg

When Springtime Comes Again: 12 Bluegrass Songs for Spring

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We hope, wherever you’re reading this from, that snow, frost, and the cold are truly retreating, giving way to longer days, warmer weather, and the gorgeous, humid, cicada-soundtracked days of summer. But, before we get to full-blown bluegrass season – and, hopefully, our first live music forays since COVID-19 shut the industry down in early 2020 – let’s take a moment to intentionally enjoy spring with these 12 bluegrass songs perfect for collecting a wildflower bouquet, romping and frolicking in the meadow, and pickin’ on the back porch while the evenings are still cool. 

“Wild Mountain Flowers for Mary” – Lost & Found

A classic via Lost & Found, bluegrass certainly does not lack metaphors and analogies for love built around spring and the flowers re-emerging – see “Your Love is Like a Flower” below – but this somewhat melancholy track is an exceptional example of the form. And that banjo solo by Lost & Found founding member Gene Parker will stop you dead in your tracks.

“There Is a Time” – The Dillards

Famous for the rendition sung by Charlene Darling of the ever-popular Darling family on The Andy Griffith Show, this haunting, seemingly timeless folky melody from The Dillards – who also played members of the Darling clan – cautions, “…Do your roaming in the springtime/ And you’ll find your love in the summer sun.” The suspensions in the banjo roll linger on the minor chord, echoing this sentiment and categorizing spring not by its own, shining qualities, but by the darkness in winter and fall. A true classic.

“Little Annie” – Molly Tuttle, Alison Brown, Kimber Ludiker, Missy Raines

A staple of impromptu pickin’ parties and jam circles, “Little Annie” is properly ensconced within the bluegrass canon, but is infused with new life in this application by Tuttle’s lead vocal, a slight queering of the lyric that’s perfectly at home in the hands of this veritable supergroup, assembled by D’Addario at Folk Alliance International’s conference in 2018. 

“Texas Bluebonnets” – Laurie Lewis 

Laurie Lewis is effortlessly, archetypically bluegrass even, if not especially, in applications that infuse other genres into the music, like this Tex-Mex flavored, twin fiddle arrangement of “Texas Bluebonnets” that truly never gets old. Yes, that’s Peter Rowan and Sally Van Meter guesting, and Tom Rozum jumping onto lead during the choruses so Lewis can utter the tastiest tenor harmony vocal. Stick around for the Texas double-fiddle break and do yourself a favor and bookmark the track for easy reference. You’ll be returning to it often, as this writer does. 

“The First Whippoorwill” – Bill Monroe 

The birds returning in spring are a sure sign of the seasons changing and the warm weather returning, though the whippoorwill’s role in folk music has always been as a bittersweet harbinger, never quite viewed without at least some semblance of suspicion, perhaps an acknowledgement of the whippoorwill’s mournful tendency of singing long into the dead of night. This recording of “The First Whippoorwill” is a tasty example of Monroe’s iconic high lonesome sound, with acrobatic breaks into entrancing falsetto woven into the harmonies. 

“Sitting on Top of the World” – Carolina Chocolate Drops

Whether you know this common blues, old-time, and bluegrass number from the Mississippi Sheiks, Doc Watson, John Oates, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, or any other of its many, many sources the fact still stands: Don’t like peaches? Don’t shake the tree. Demonstrably a song for spring, summer, and beyond.

“Roses in the Snow” – Emmylou Harris

Though BGS calls sunny southern California home – and BGS South is relatively temperate and mild in Nashville, TN – we know there are climes across this continent where spring promises snow as reliably as thaw. Emmylou Harris released her iconic bluegrass album in 1980 and its title track is another homage to love bringing warmth, newness, and growth even in the cold: “Our love was like a burning ember/ It warmed us as a golden glow/ We had sunshine in December/ And grew our roses in the snow…”

“Each Season Changes You” – The Osborne Brothers

Love is as fickle as the breeze! There’s a small irony in the song’s central conflict, that the singer’s love changes their mind as often as the seasons change – which, when taken whole, seems like a much more stable, predictable love than most? Even so, and done in so many different iterations, the central metaphor still holds, forever baked into the vernacular of these folk musics.

“One Morning in May” – Jeff Scroggins & Colorado

If you’ve been a bluegrass fan over the past five to ten years and you don’t immediately hear Greg Blake’s voice singing “One Morning in May” whenever it pops into your head, something must be awry. During Blake’s stint with Jeff Scroggins & Colorado, this spring-centered track was a highlight of their live show, a clean, modern rendering of what’s a properly ancient folk lyric. Lost love, war, nightingales, and yes, springtime – it has everything! 

“Your Love is Like a Flower” – Flatt & Scruggs

Perhaps the song that defines the form. Flatt’s languid, lazy phrasing seems to underline the leisure of spring that grows into the laziness of summer. The rhythm of love, tied to the seasons and the budding blooms. Another timeless sentiment, distilled into a favorite, stand-by bluegrass number.

“Springtime in the Rockies” – Lead Belly

You know the film and the country hit, but have you heard Lead Belly himself tell the story of hearing the tune from “Gene” coming by and playing him some music? Worth a listen and worth inclusion on this list, which would suffer if it didn’t include “When It’s Springtime in the Rockies” in one form or another!

“Spring Will Bring Flowers” – Balsam Range

Processing grief and loss through the ever- and unchanging seasons is a common thread through rootsy songs about spring. This more recent recording from powerful North Carolina bluegrass vocal group Balsam Range hearkens back to springy, ‘grassy numbers from across the ages – its intermittent banjo licks a call back to Jimmy Martin’s “world filled with flowers” in “Ocean of Diamonds.” 

Background photo by velodenz on Foter.com

LISTEN: Mark Rubin, Jew of Oklahoma, “My Resting Place” (Feat. Danny Barnes)

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Mark Rubin, Jew of Oklahoma
Hometown: New Orleans, Louisiana
Song: “My Resting Place” (Feat. Danny Barnes)
Album: The Triumph of Assimilation
Release Date: June 1, 2021
Label: Rubinchik Recordings

In Their Words: “‘My Resting Place’ is an old-time bluegrass number inspired by the drive of Jimmy Martin and yet based on a 100-year-old Yiddish poem by Morris Rosenfeld. Known as the ‘poet laureate of the slum and the sweatshops,’ Rosenfeld’s ‘Mayn Rue Platz’ was written to commemorate the tragic events of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in NYC in 1911. The original Yiddish lyric brought to mind the Harlan Howard songs I grew up with as a kid, so the match seemed like a natural. My Bad Livers bandmate and acknowledged five-string banjo master Danny Barnes came in to seal the dark mood to match the lyric. If I’m being honest, I wrote it with Del McCoury in mind as the thought of a 100-year-old Yiddish labor ballad sung on bluegrass stages cheers me to no end.” — Mark Rubin

Photo credit: George Brainard

The Station Inn Earns an Exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum

Posted on by Editor

The humble appearance of the Station Inn could never give away the enormity of its legacy and importance to bluegrass music. Nestled between skyscrapers in an ever-growing city, a single story cinder-block building with its windows painted shut sticks out as a relic from the past — when the Urban Outfitters across the street used to be an empty field of waist-high grass.

For nearly 50 years “the World Famous” Station Inn has played a pivotal role in bluegrass as both a venue and community hub, drawing people to Nashville and making connections that had a major impact on the music. Through the rest of 2021, The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum will honor and present the history and legacy of the venue in their exhibit The Station Inn: Bluegrass Beacon.

“The main reason that we wanted to do this exhibit is because the Station is such a vital and important part of not just Nashville music history, but of American music history,” says Peter Cooper, one of the curators of the new exhibit. The Station Inn has a larger-than-life reputation in the bluegrass community, but this new exhibit endeavors to highlight both the importance of the venue’s history and its welcoming atmosphere.

During the mid-1980s, adventurous singer-songwriter and musician Peter Rowan assembled all-star groups he dubbed “Crucial Country” for a series of shows that created a buzz amongst progressive roots music fans and players. In this photo, Rowan (right) is joined by Mark O’Connor on guitar and Sam Bush on mandolin. Photo: Charmaine Latham

It was founded in 1974 by a group of bluegrass musicians and singers — Bob and Ingrid Fowler, Marty and Charmaine Lanham, Jim Bornstein, and Red and Bird Lee Smith — who wanted to provide their fellow musicians and fans with a venue where they could play and hear bluegrass music. At that time the Station was more of a clubhouse where the owners functioned as the house band and guests would come up to jam. They moved to the current location in 1978; three years later, the club was bought by J.T. Gray, who at the time was driving Jimmy Martin’s tour bus.

Gray, who would go on to be inducted into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame in 2020 and was given a lifetime achievement award by the Southeast Regional Folk Alliance, began booking national touring acts to perform. It would be easy and accurate to show why the Inn is significant by pointing to the artists who have played there, including Bill Monroe, the Stanley Brothers, Vince Gill, Alison Krauss, and essentially any other important name in bluegrass. But the clubhouse atmosphere always remained. Countless (as in absolutely too many to count) threads of bluegrass history, both well-known and overlooked, can all be traced back to chance meetings at the Station Inn. J.T. Gray fostered a welcoming atmosphere that led to many locals and visitors from out of town to meet there, including mandolinist Mike Compton.

The venue’s sound-mixing console described by Gray as “the first piece of modern sound equipment we ever bought”

“I rode up [to Nashville] with Raymond Huffmaster, a bluegrass guy from Meridian, Mississippi, where I’m from, because I’d been hanging around him trying to learn how to play,” Compton says. They visited the bluegrass spots in town including the Station Inn, and Compton recalls after heading home, “Pat Enright got in touch with me and said they were starting a band and asked if I wanted to join. So I moved [to Nashville] in 1977 and moved in with J.T. Gray.”

Mike and Pat would continue playing together and later go on to form the legendary Nashville Bluegrass Band, which became a staple act at the Station Inn. A predecessor to that award-winning band was performing at the Station the first time future bluegrass star, Kathy Chiavola, came to town in 1979.

“When that door opened, the room was packed and I saw a vision of heaven,” she says, recalling that first night. “I heard these two voices, Alan [O’Bryant] and Pat [Enright], in their prime. And I lost it. I said, ‘OK. I’m moving here.’ There was a notice on the Station Inn bulletin board that a band of women playing bluegrass were looking for a roommate.” That band turned out to be the Bushwhackers, which featured bluegrass pioneers Susie Monick and Ginger Boatwright. Chiavola eventually joined the Bushwhackers playing bass and singing lead and harmony until Doug Dillard moved to Nashville. As the banjo player from the Dillards (who were famous for playing the Darlings on The Andy Griffith Show), Dillard put a band together and asked Ginger Boatwright to join, and about a year later asked Chiavola, too. Both the Bushwhackers and the Doug Dillard Band would frequently perform at the Station.

Vocalist, bones player, and madcap entertainer Ed Dye (far right) was a colorful presence at the Station Inn during the 1980s and early 90s. He assembled the Nashville Jug Band with a cast of stellar Nashville musicians from rock, jazz, and bluegrass backgrounds, and hosted wildly unpredictable shows. In this photo, he takes the stage with (from left): Sam Bush, Mark Schatz, Tim O’Brien, Alan O’Bryant, David Grier, and Jerry Douglas. Photo: Charmaine Lanham

Chiavola eventually moved into a duplex next to bluegrass bassist Mark Schatz. Together, they would often play the Station Inn with Charlie Cushman, Stuart Duncan, and Bobby Clark as part of a band called The Satellites. Other times, Chiavola would perform at the Inn with an ensemble called the Lucky Dogs which featured Jerry Douglas, Béla Fleck, Edgar Meyer (who had just moved to town), and sometimes Sam Bush or Mark O’Connor.

“It was beyond belief,” she says. “Sometimes I remember being on stage at the Station and listening to those guys play. I thought it was the most heavenly sound — I can’t even describe it to you. It was perfect music with so much feeling. You could hear a pin drop. It was so beautiful.”

Schatz, on the other hand, often performed at the Station with Mike Compton as part of John Hartford’s band. Hartford had moved back to Nashville to form a string band after a successful songwriting career in L.A. That California connection later landed him the contract to help with the music for the Coen Brothers’ massively successful O Brother, Where Art Thou? Compton’s 1927 Gibson A-Jr. model mandolin, which he played with the Nashville Bluegrass Band, in John Hartford’s string band, and on the O Brother soundtrack, is included in the new exhibit.

A cigar box used for many years to collect admission fees at the club entrance

Also on display is a small wooden box that was used to collect admission for years, along with some history about former Station Inn employee and local folk icon, Ann Soyars. “Ann embodied what the Station is about,” Cooper says. Soyars worked the door and was “small but fierce.” She was known to throw out rowdy college football players for being too loud, but also welcome regulars and newcomers alike. “Ann’s inclusion in the exhibit is indicative of what we’re trying to do, which is to help people understand not just the facts of the matter, but the spirit of the matter. The Station Inn is an example of musical community building in the most positive way. It’s like Cheers for ‘grassers.”

In addition, the exhibit features other artifacts from both the building and the musicians who have performed there including a fiddle played extensively by Tammy Rogers with the SteelDrivers, Mike Bub’s Kay M-1 double bass, which he played with many groups at The Station Inn — including Weary Hearts (Chris Jones, Butch Baldassari, Ron Block), the Del McCoury Band, and the Sidemen (Terry Eldridge, Jimmy Campbell, Ronnie McCoury, Gene Wooten, Ed Dye, Kristin Scott Benson, and Larry Perkins). Seats from a tour bus used by Lester Flatt, which serve as seating in the venue, are on view as well.

The Station Inn’s cash register

Generations of performers’ children have grown up in the Station’s green room and backstage and have gone on to perform on stage as adults. Newspaper has been put down on the bar to admire someone’s new puppies. Great care has been taken to lovingly craft the perfectly reheated pizza. Beers are shared by locals and honored guests after the doors are closed to the public. (And I have hidden fancy decaf coffee and a pour-over in the back that I take out when I visit.) To this day the Station Inn is a community gathering place where friendships, bands, and lifelong loves of bluegrass are formed. It embodies not only the authenticity of the music but of the community. And often, everyone knows your name.

Editor’s Notes: The Station Inn has endeavored to safely present live music throughout the pandemic. They have reopened to live audiences at a limited capacity and live stream performances through their web portal stationinntv.com.

The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum will present The Station Inn: Bluegrass Beacon until January 2, 2022. The museum is currently open to the public at a limited capacity.

Photo of Station Inn and artifacts: Emma Delevante for the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum
Other photos: Charmaine Lanham