Tag: klezmer

MIXTAPE: Will Holshouser on the Accordion in Country, Bluegrass, and Roots Music

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The accordion is like a cousin you don’t see very often, but who is an integral, colorful member of the family. In country, folk, bluegrass and related roots music from the U.S., the accordion has always been there, more of a presence than you might think. It’s central to styles such as zydeco, Cajun, and conjunto music, but also many foundational bluegrass and country artists – such as Bill Monroe and the Carter Family – used accordion in their music at times. The accordion was in the environment, part of the sound world of mid-20th-century popular music, adding a special touch to bands of all kinds. Although it did not continue to flourish as a central bluegrass or country instrument, there’s no musical reason for that absence: it fits right into the sound. Whether playing rhythm or lead, it can be versatile, punchy, and expressive.

If country music is our unifying theme here, the accordion makes a great lens for viewing the vast diversity of the genre and its extensive family tree: Tejano-conjunto accordion playing, with its polka and Spanish origins and its two-beat and waltz rhythms, is a natural fit with country; zydeco and Cajun music overlap with it seamlessly; Western Swing bands, which merged jazz and country, often included accordionists from the Midwest with Central or Eastern European backgrounds. Of course, the impact of African American blues, swing, and jazz is so strong in all these styles that it’s more than just an “influence” – really a foundation. Jewish klezmer music is also a branch of the “roots music” tree; it came from Europe and developed in the U.S., absorbing many of the same influences as the other genres while making great use of the accordion. – Will Holshouser

“Together Again” – Steve Jordan

The incredible Esteban “Steve” Jordan grew up playing conjunto music in Texas and expanded his repertoire to include country, Latin music, rock, zydeco and more. He was known as “El Parche” for the patch he wore over his blind eye and also as the “Jimi Hendrix of the accordion,” since he played through an effects pedal (flanger or phaser). On his version of this Buck Owens tune, he plays many roles brilliantly: lead vocals, accordion solo, fills and accompaniment.

“J’ai Eté-Z-Au Bal” – Steve Riley & the Mamou Playboys

Steve Riley is one of the finest Cajun accordionists working today; this blistering version of a classic Cajun tune (“I Went to the Dance”) shows his virtuosity, the Cajun (diatonic) accordion in a lead role, and his band’s deep groove.

“Tennessee Waltz” – Pee Wee King & His Golden West Cowboys

Pee Wee King was born Julius Frank Anthony Kuczynski to a Polish-American family in Wisconsin. He learned accordion from his father, who played in a polka band, and went on to become a famous Western Swing bandleader and write the music for this country classic. His beautiful, single-reed accordion fills and moving thirds sound totally country, while revealing a Slavic touch.

“Blues de Basile” – Amédé Ardoin

Amédé Ardoin made some of the very first accordion records in Louisiana and is a common musical ancestor of all zydeco and Cajun accordion playing. His innovative, rhythmic, virtuosic accordion style and haunting vocals won him a great reputation both inside and outside his Afro-Creole community. He often played dances and made records with his close musical partner, Cajun fiddler Dennis McGee, including “Blues de Basile” in 1930. His life ended tragically when he was beaten by white vigilantes.

“Hard to Love Someone” – Clifton Chenier

Known as the King of the Bayous, Chenier brought together southwestern Louisiana zydeco rhythms and Delta blues. On this slow blues tune recorded in 1970, his fluid improvising and support of his own singing is nothing short of glorious. His brother Cleveland Chenier plays the rubboard.

“Bluegrass Special” – Bill Monroe (with Sally Ann Forrester)

Most people know that Bill Monroe defined the classic bluegrass sound. Some may not know that an early version of his band, The Blue Grass Boys, included a Blue Grass Girl, Wilene “Sally Ann” Forrester, on accordion. Her solid rhythm playing and all-too-short accordion break add warmth to this early instrumental, a 12-bar blues. If things had worked out just a little differently, maybe every bluegrass band today would include an accordion! (Hey, it’s not too late, folks.)

“Root, Hog or Die” – Mother Maybelle & The Carter Sisters (with Helen Carter)

Later in her life, Mother Maybelle Carter of the iconic Carter Family had a long performing career with her daughters. The group featured Helen Carter playing great accordion and often Chet Atkins on guitar. Here, too, the influence of swing and blues is readily apparent. “Root, hog, or die” is an old expression that means “you’re on your own.”

“Alon Kouri Laba” – Corey Ledet Zydeco

Corey Ledet, one of today’s most exciting zydeco accordionists, plays beautifully and sings in Louisiana Creole on this high-energy tune from his album Médikamen (2023).

“American Without Tears” – Elvis Costello (with Jo-El Sonnier)

Accordionist Jo-El Sonnier brings his sensitive touch and gorgeous Cajun waltz style to this song from Elvis Costello’s album King of America. (Rock producers and engineers, please take note: this is where an accordion should be in the mix – loud enough that it can breathe dynamically and find its place among the other instruments.)

“Shouting Song” – Will Holshouser

Here’s a tune from my new album, The Lone Wild Bird. I wrote “Shouting Song” with the sound of shape note singing in mind. This is a choral tradition in the rural U.S., mostly in the South, with a unique sound: shape note composers ignored (or just didn’t know about) many European harmonic rules which disallowed features like parallel fifths and chords with only two notes. Along with influences from various folk traditions and camp meeting spirituals, that stark approach to harmony gives the style its sound, which I use here as a point of departure.

“Un Mojado Sin Licensia” – Flaco Jimenez

The creative genius of the great Flaco Jimenez is on full display in this conjunto song about the hardships faced by a Mexican immigrant in Texas. His rhythmic drive, melodic inventiveness, and roller-coaster chromatic runs are thrilling to the ears.

“Streets of Bakersfield” – Dwight Yoakam (with Flaco Jimenez)

Here’s Flaco again, on a recording that went to the top of the country charts in 1988. This song was written by Homer Joy, first recorded by Buck Owens in 1972, and re-done here by Dwight Yoakam with both Buck and Flaco as guest stars.

“Spadella” – Spade Cooley (with Pedro DePaul)

Accordionist and arranger Larry “Pedro” DePaul grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, where he studied music at the Hungarian Conservatory. Spade Cooley, originally from Oklahoma, was a popular Western Swing bandleader in the LA area. There’s a grisly tale behind this tune: Cooley wrote it for his wife Ella, who he was convicted of murdering in 1961.

“Second Avenue Square Dance” – Dave Tarras with the Abe Ellstein Orchestra

Any discussion of the accordion in American roots music should include klezmer, Eastern European Jewish music that came to the U.S. and absorbed influences such as the drum kit, certain jazz band formats, etc. On this tune the great clarinetist Dave Tarras plays the lead, but the anonymous accordionist is heard prominently, playing beautiful fills and rhythm, harmonizing with the melody, and using rich chords to blend with the horns. Second Avenue in Manhattan was the epicenter of the Yiddish theater scene, which had a huge impact on Broadway. The title could be just a lark, or a nod to the musical kinship between klezmer and country music!

“Atlantic City” – The Band (with Garth Hudson)

Garth Hudson’s adventurous playing with The Band carved out a role for the accordion in that kind of rock music. (He also played the horizontal keyboards: organ, etc.) I had the thrill of meeting him when we both played on Martha Wainwright’s live Edith Piaf tribute album (Sans Fusils, Ni Souliers à Paris). Unfortunately, the producers had us playing on different tunes, not at the same time! On this cover of a Bruce Springsteen song, recorded in 1993, Garth creates a fantasy using multi-tracked layers of accordion and organ.

Photo Credit: Erika Kapin

BGS 5+5: Amy Irving

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Amy Irving
Hometown: San Francisco, California
Latest Album: Always Will Be (out April 25, 2025)

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

I’ve been an actor all my life. I began on this new path, making music with the band GOOLIS, a few years back. And I’ve been learning so much from them, especially our band leader Jules David Bartkowski.

I remember going into the studio to record our sophomore album, Always Will Be, and Jules suggested I improvise some. Well, let me tell you, as an actress, I had been traumatized in acting school improv class. I was never comfortable acting without a script. I’ve always considered my gift was in interpreting playwrights’ words. So, when I sang, I followed the notes exactly. But Jules and Aaron, our keyboardist, insisted that I try. I complained my mistakes would be so loud and they replied, “Oh yeah, Amy, we never make mistakes here.” Okay, I got it. I did it. And now you can’t keep me down on the farm.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

Before every show, after sound check, I retreat to my dressing room, to meditate and rest my voice. It’s a time to conserve my energy. I eat some protein that will not talk to me on the stage. Half a beta blocker keeps my hands from shaking. I do a vocal warmup, either alone with a taped class or over FaceTime with my wonderful vocal coach, Celeste Simone. Gabriel Barreto, my son and manager and record producer and photographer, then digs his elbows into my tight shoulders. When it’s five minutes to showtime, I usually run to the bathroom and have to throw up (yes, I get terrible stage fright), knock back a shot of tequila, then Jules leads us all in an exercise of shaking all the tension from each part of our bodies.

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

Working with bandleader Jules is a thrill, because our music covers so many genres, once he decides on his arrangements. He has taken the songs of Willie Nelson and transformed them from punk rock to samba.

Broadly speaking, Jules was going for a kind of golden age of mid- to late-century global pop/rock approach. To offer a more specific example: the first song of the record Always Will Be, “Dream Come True,” was, for Jules, an attempt to channel 1960s Italian rock acts like Mina and Adriano Celentano, while throwing in some Vegas-style late Elvis maximalism and some doo-wop baritone sax. On the song “Getting Over You,” he was trying to find an intersection between The Clash and The Supremes. On “Everywhere I Go” he was trying to mix the Mexican influence of the original with the connected worlds of Klezmer and Balkan music and 1970s Ethiopian jazz.

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

I’d like to eat foie gras and fig jam on a baguette with a glass of pinot noir while Édith Piaf sings to me “Non, je ne regrette rien.”

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

I think anything goes. I remember a long time ago when Wolfgang Puck first opened Spagos on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, I was appalled to see “Jewish Pizza” on the menu. Well, it was smoked salmon and cream cheese pizza and I’m here to tell you it was delicious!

Photo Credit: Gabriel Barreto

Basic Folk: Fran & Flora

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Two long-time collaborators, cellist Francesa Ter-Berg and violinist Flora Curazon, Fran & Flora, have bonded over their obsession with ancient music, rooted in Eastern European and Jewish culture, for over a dozen years. Together and separately, the English musicians have been studying with teachers of ethnomusicology in places like Transylvania and Romanian. There, they took in the music as well as the cultural influences. That’s not to speak of their higher musical education, Francesca holds two masters in music (including in contemporary improvisation from the New England Conservatory of Music) while Flora trained at the Royal Academy of Music, London. They break down the benefits of each learning style and how it impacts their creative process. They also get into their love of klezmer music and the importance of portraying cultural heritage while remaining modern.

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We also talk about how as female musicians, they are expected to do absolutely everything and excel at it while people still talk about whether or not you smile on stage.
They share “There’s a very deep thing in there that has affected our choices as a band in order to keep it safe and healthy within ourselves.” Their latest album, Precious Collection, features a couple of original tunes, but it’s mostly new and unique arrangements of traditional Klezmer and Yiddish songs. Don’t sleep on the smokey translation that Flora shares of the song “Little Bird” and stick around to learn who is the better roommate. All in all, great conversation with wonderful people who create bonkers music that’s rich in tradition and layers.

Photo Credit: Dom Thompson

Zoe & Cloyd Made a Traditional Album – But Not the Way You Think

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

If you were to try to typify bluegrass as being about any one singular thing, that one thing might be family. Not just biological family, but musical family, chosen family, and the way the music survives generation to generation, passed down as a folkway and aural tradition. Often, though not always, this music is a family tradition, passed along family trees like an heirloom or like more typical family businesses.

John Cloyd Miller and Natalya Zoe Weinstein, bluegrass duo and band leaders of Zoe & Cloyd, have made a brand new album that, on the surface, might just seem like a standard bluegrass album paying homage to the folks who came before them, their forefathers. But Songs of Our Grandfathers is so much more complicated and nuanced, wrinkling a format that’s as old as these genres themselves: the tribute album. 

On the new record, released in May on Organic Records, John and Natalya pull songs from the catalogs of their musician grandfathers. Miller’s grandpa, Jim Shumate, was a renowned Western North Carolina fiddler who played a stint in Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys and can be accurately credited with helping get Earl Scruggs the banjo gig that made him famous. Natalya’s grandfather, David Weinstein, was a working klezmer musician who fled unrest in Russia, moving to the U.S. 

The artful way this pair of musicians and life partners combine the styles of their families, of their youths, and of their present lives together, as touring, professional musicians, feels expansive, rich, and bold, like newgrass that’s never been newgrassed before. But, there’s a timelessness here, a patina, that speaks to the greater tradition this record can lay claim to perpetuating. (Thank goodness.) 

Songs of Our Grandfathers isn’t just nostalgia, heritage, lineage, legacy- and canon-building. It’s not just carrying on tradition for tradition’s sake. It’s effortlessly and wholly bluegrass because it innovates, it complicates, and it challenges its listeners to think outside of preconceived notions of what bluegrass, string band, and old-time music are. Because that’s exactly what bluegrass’s grandfathers, grandmothers, and grandparents were doing as they invented this music. 

We began our phone chat about the new album discussing each of their grandparents and their musical idiosyncrasies.

Can we start by talking about Jim Shumate? His presence is throughout the record and he’s influenced you both, can you tell us a bit about him and his music making? 

John Cloyd Miller: He was born in 1921 in Wilkes County, North Carolina, on a mountain called Chestnut Mountain. He started playing fiddle as a young boy, as a teenager. His older brother Mac, who was 10 years older – the same age as Bill Monroe – got him his first fiddle, which is a fiddle he kept his entire life and we actually have, now. It’s an old Sears & Roebuck Strad copy, but he played some tone into it! His Uncle Erby played fiddle so he heard him a lot growing up and then he got into Arthur Smith and all that kind of stuff. He moved to Hickory when he got older, when he was a young man, and was playing on the radio down there when Bill Monroe heard him and asked him to be in the Blue Grass Boys. That was the time that Stringbean was in the band and Sally Ann Forrester, too.

When Stringbean decided to leave the band and go off with Lew Childre, Bill needed a banjo player and it’s now a pretty well known story that Jim knew a banjo player – he knew Earl Scruggs – and really pushed, begged him really, to audition for Bill. Earl was pretty reluctant to do it, but he did, and the rest is history. Later on, when Flatt & Scruggs broke off [from the Blue Grass Boys], Jim was their first fiddler, as you know. He recorded on their Mercury sessions. But he didn’t like touring, he wasn’t a touring kinda guy at all. He had four kids at home – three at the time, when he was younger, and one later. 

Natalya Zoe Weinstein: He liked Mama’s cookin’. 

[both laugh]

Jim Shumate, L (John Cloyd Miller’s grandfather); David Weinstein, R (Natalya Zoe Weinstein’s grandfather)

JCM: He did! He liked his own bed and grandma’s cooking, for sure. He liked to go up on the mountain. He worked in the furniture industry pretty much his whole life, but he also had his hand in the music. He ran a place called “Cat Square,” kind of a small town sort of Hickory Opry, a music show. He was always playing. I have photos of him through the late ‘40s and through the ‘50s with all sorts of people, Don Reno – all those guys. He made records and he had his own band called Sons of the Carolinas, which had George Shuffler in it and some other guys. He was always playing. He played with Dwight Barker and the Melody Boys; he did some sides with Don Walker, who he played with before he met Bill Monroe. He was always making music. 

After Flatt & Scruggs it was largely regionally, because he wasn’t out touring, but he said people would always come by. Any time guys like Lester and them were in town they would always drive the bus and park it right in the yard. He was always in the music, but his influence was not felt as widely later on, I think because he wasn’t out [touring]. He did come back to recording in the ‘90s and made five cassettes for Heritage Records and those got disseminated kind of regionally. Michael Cleveland cut one of the songs that was on one of those tapes a year or so ago. People know his music, but we enjoy getting his legacy out there a bit more. He’s got such a unique style and certainly was influential. 

He was a great songwriter, too! He was my main musical influence. I heard him play a ton growing up. He was so bluesy and slidey, he was a real master of syncopation, which is something that got ingrained in me. People always forget about his songwriting, but the way I grew up, I always thought that being a musician meant that you sing stuff, you write songs. You pick, too, but you do all of it. It was just part of being musical and I think that came from him as well. 

It makes me think of, well, I talk a lot about how the most “bluegrass” someone can be is being innovative and being themselves, whether that comes across as “traditional bluegrass,” genre-wise or not. 

JCM: That’s really insightful and it’s so true, when you look at those early players – everybody always looks at the first generation and, that’s good, that can be very grounding, but those guys were all unique! They were all unique artists, they had their own styles – sure, they were listening to one another, but Lester Flatt doesn’t sound like Bill Monroe who doesn’t sound like Carter Stanley. They don’t sound like each other!

Natalya, I wanted to ask you about your grandfather, too. If you could tell us a bit about the musical influences that represent him on this record, as well. 

NZW: He passed away when I was fairly young, my dad had me when he was fifty-one, so my grandfather was quite older than me – I think I was eleven when he passed away. [My father and he] had an interesting relationship; he wasn’t always a well-liked man. He escaped a lot of violence and poverty in Russia, so he wasn’t a very kind man and my dad didn’t have a very close relationship with him. I don’t have any audio recordings of his music, I have a couple of audio interviews that my dad and uncle did with him, but I don’t have any recordings of his music. 

My dad was moving a few years back and found all these old music notebooks from my grandfather. He asked me, “Do you want these old, handwritten, junky notebooks?” And I was like, “Yes!! Please give those to me!” [Laughs] That was the source, for me, for my grandfather’s music. I didn’t have one-on-one experiences with him, I didn’t have recordings of him, so these notebooks are really the only link to his music that I have. We have about five or six notebooks that have songs in them – they’re pretty hard to decipher, they’re forty or fifty years old. They have all different kinds of material in them, from klezmer to mambos and tangos even to “Tennessee Waltz,” which shows up in one of them as a jazz standard. He also played some classical music, he didn’t do just one singular thing. Klezmer players were like the wedding band musician of their time, where they had to play a bunch of different styles based on who their audience was. 

JCM: We definitely got a little bit of a sense of who he was from these audio interviews that her uncle and dad had made with him. We got to hear his voice, you know he didn’t speak English very well so it’s mostly in Russian and Yiddish. You get a sense of some of the stuff he saw, in these interviews. You can tell it hardened him. 

NZW: He had a tough life for sure, he struggled a lot and music was really the only thing [he did]. He wasn’t really educated. He talked about how when he came here [to the U.S.] he tried to be a plumber and he tried to be an electrician, but he kept making mistakes. He said, “I couldn’t do anything except play music.” He felt almost like he was stuck with it. He loved it and he was passionate about it, but I got the sense that it was his only option. 

There’s a similar energy from both grandfathers around being musicians, but not just in a traditional touring, “road dog,” sort of lifestyle. 

NZW: You’re right, and they were both kind of skeptical of the past. 

JCM: They both came from very humble beginnings. My grandfather didn’t have any education, either. Natalya’s grandfather, apparently, escaped the Bolshevik revolution on a hay wagon. He was a teenager and they were trying to conscript him into the army to fight – it’s crazy stuff! 

Bluegrass is always considering lineage and tradition and how those things are passed along. One of the things that I think is really interesting about it is there aren’t a lot of marginalized identities represented in the historical record of bluegrass, but there are Jewish identities represented. There’s not a whole lot of representation as you go back through the years, but it’s there. How do you connect the music you’re making, that’s infused with Jewish influences and has that cultural identity, to past Jewish music makers in bluegrass and string bands? You’re clearly thinking about lineage and family with this record, and that’s so bluegrass, but through a different lens with your Jewish identity and the other cultural music styles on the album, too. 

NZW: David Grisman was one of my biggest musical influences early on, he was a big bridge, for me, between my dad – who plays jazz – and the bluegrass connection as well as the Jewish connection. We talk about how this album was inspired by Songs of Our Fathers, the 1995 album by David Grisman and Andy Statman. Andy Statman, who played on the record, is another one – one of the first shows that John and I went to see when we met in Asheville in 2005 or 2006 was to see Andy Statman at the Black Mountain Center for the Arts, which is this tiny little listening room. It was an incredible show, I remember just being blown away. I remember thinking, “Wow! What a cool fusion.”

JCM: That was the first time we heard that fusion with klezmer music. He was also playing clarinet, he was playing mandolin. He is the bridge between these kinds of music. David doesn’t do as much klezmer, but those two guys together for sure. 

NZW: John and I both came into bluegrass through the Grisman/Garcia connection then I kind of worked my way back from there. Someone gave me a burned CD of Bill Monroe and I was like, “Oh my God, what is this!?” [Laughs]

JCM: So many people have stories like that. That Old & In The Way album was such an influential record, it was like the number one selling bluegrass record for a long time. 

NZW: Yeah, the way I got into bluegrass, I was out in Tacoma, Washington, for an anthropology conference in college and somebody at my hotel was like, “I’ve got an extra ticket for Wintergrass, which is happening right next door.” I said, “Okay, cool!” So we go and I saw Old & In The Gray there [Peter Rowan, Vassar Clements, Grisman], it was an incredible experience. I didn’t really know what I was seeing at the time, because I was so new to bluegrass, but that was my “Ah ha!” moment. Someone handed me a fiddle and I dunno, I played “Angeline the Baker” and that was it! [Laughs]

JCM: When I first heard Grisman play mandolin, his tone and everything, that was like sinking a hook into me. That’s why I even wanted to play mandolin. I wanted to work on getting tone like that! He was a huge influence on so many of us.

Going back home one time, when I had been living out West or whatever, I was listening to Old & In the Way or something and I asked, “Grandpa, do you know this stuff, like ‘Pig in a Pen,’ and all this?” And he was like, “Oh yeah! I know everything on this record!” And he would play them, and that was so cool to me. I hadn’t quite made the connection before. He asked me, “Who’s playing fiddle on that record?” And I said, “Vassar Clements!” He says, “Oh yeah, that’s a good friend of mine!” I was like, “WHAT!?” 

[both laugh]

JCM: I was just this stupid, deadhead college kid – I mean, I’m still a deadhead – but it really clicked. This is a bridge between grandpa’s world, which had always seemed like something in the past, to my world as a young, coming-of-age musician, realizing, “Oh, it’s all the same stuff!” 

To an uninitiated listener, they might hear your record and they might hear the influences that aren’t “traditional bluegrass” as modern cross-pollinations, as something that’s coming from you both and your generation and your own creativity. But, I really wanted to unpack the lineage of the music, because I can sense even in the playing on this album that colors “outside the lines,” it’s clearly part of this bigger tradition in bluegrass of being a bridge between these kinds of disparate parts. Even this “nontraditional” album you’ve made is based on so much tradition – familial tradition, cultural tradition, musical tradition. 

NZW: I think we wanted to honor those traditions and where these songs came from, but we also wanted to put our own spin on it. We hope our grandfathers would have liked that! 

JCM: [Jim Shumate] was very much a traditional musician, but he was always innovative at the same time. Some of the things he did in the ‘50s were very jazzy, with electric guitars playing with him. And he always loved Natalya’s playing. You know, Natalya came from a classical background and anytime she would play something classical for him– 

NZW: Or a waltz. 

JCM: He just loved to hear her play. They didn’t sound like each other, they had very different styles, but he was always very open and he loved everything. 

NZW: I think he would like [the album]. John’s mom texted us yesterday as she was listening to it and said, “I think grandpa would’ve enjoyed that!” So hopefully our grandparents aren’t rolling over in their graves. 

[Both laugh]

Photo Credit: Sarah Johnston

WATCH: Zoe & Cloyd, “Up and At ‘Em”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Zoe & Cloyd
Hometown: Asheville, NC
Song: “Up and At ‘Em”
Album: Songs of Our Grandfathers
Release Date: May 19, 2023
Label: Organic Records

In Their Words: “‘Up and At ‘Em’ is one of my favorite Jim Shumate compositions and the title track to his 1991 album of that name. Jim was always proud that this record made it onto the Library of Congress/American Folklife Center’s list of outstanding folk recordings of that year, as it marked his return to recording after a decade-long hiatus. Since this tune is in a minor key, it really dovetails well with the klezmer material on Songs of Our Grandfathers, especially with Natalya’s added doina intro. We were psyched to have Andy Statman play mandolin on it for the album and he gave it a really cool treatment using the Monroe ‘Get Up John’ tuning for some old school flavor.

“For the video we had Kevin Kehrberg and Ben Krakauer with us and Aaron from Old Home Place Recordings thought it would be fun to have the camera in the middle while we played the tune in a circle, jam style. It’s a different approach that makes you feel like you’re inside the performance and it turned out great!” – John Cloyd Miller

Photo Credit: Sarah Johnston

WATCH: Michael Winograd, “Theme from ‘David & Goliath'”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Michael Winograd
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Song: “Theme From David & Goliath”
Album: Kosher Style
Release Date: June 21, 2019
Label: OU People

In Their Words: “‘Theme from David & Goliath‘ is the second single off of the upcoming record Kosher Style, coming out June 21. Like the rest of the record, ‘Theme from D&G‘ is a bit of a time piece, aesthetically set in both the mid-1950s and today. Initially, the thought for this track was to be part of a soundtrack for a Grade B, presumed lost, silent Yiddish film (David & Goliath.) I had a great plan, to present this to audiences as an older composition from a long-ago film composer, the sheet music found dusty in an attic somewhere…. I tried it on a few audiences, and it fell flat… the humor was lost to both them and my band mates…. Apparently the humor wasn’t there to begin with, so I dropped the shtick…but kept the title.

“Musically, this track is central in the scope of what Kosher Style intends to accomplish as a record. Klezmer music, as a culture-genre, took a nap from around 1960-1979. It’s complicated, I won’t get into it… it was a bummer… but the timing was ironically unfortunate. Brilliant artists like Sam Musiker, Dave Tarras and others were creating modernist Klezmer records, exploring new sounds and experimenting with the limits of tradition. Who knows where the genre as a whole could have ended up had there not been two decades of interruption. ‘Theme from David & Goliath’ is both an homage to the sounds being explored by Musiker on his 1956 alum Tanz and a means to pick up where things left off.” — Michael Winograd

Photo credit: Erika Kapin

For Mandolinist Andy Statman, Music Is the Great Unifier

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Mandolinist Andy Statman is quick to deny that his identity — he’s a devout modern Orthodox Jew — has anything to do with his music. “To tell you the truth,” he says, “it never entered the picture. I was just into the music…”

However, his latest album, Monroe Bus — an exploration of traditional mandolin techniques utilized in contexts as familiar as Bill Monroe standards and as far-reaching as klezmer and jazz-infused originals — belies that denial. And, as we converse about his history in music and the harlequin nature of the album it becomes obvious that his work isn’t devoid of his identity at all. In fact, the opposite is demonstrable.

Statman’s music is, of course, archetypically and idiosyncratically his own. He, as much or more so than any other mandolinist on the scene today, is truly original. He’s reached this destination not through purposeful attempts in his music to express his identity — religious, cultural, and otherwise. Instead he simply focuses on playing the most meaningful music he can, while remaining in the moment and establishing human connection with his fellow musicians. The rest, his whole identity, shines through his art organically and effortlessly as a result. Statman is a testament to roots music’s ability — whether consciously or subconsciously, overtly or covertly — to allow its purveyors’ souls to be the keystones on which entire albums, catalogs, and genres are built.

BGS: Your record strikes me as “melting pot” music. Whether you’re playing more jazzy music or bluegrass or klezmer, you’ve always considered your music to be quintessentially American. Why is that?

Statman: First of all, I’m an American, so the culture I grew up in was an American culture. I heard things through an American ear, I saw things from an American eye, and while there might be certain regional differences, all in all it’s all pretty much the same. I grew up right after World War II, my father was a veteran. I was born in 1950, so I grew up in the early 1950s in an area in Queens, New York called Jackson Heights. It was a diverse neighborhood. Everyone got along. Everyone grew up together. The other kids were just other kids, and it didn’t matter what their background was. The music played at this time was classical music, or jazz, or square dance music, or other stuff. As a kid we used to have square dances every week in public school. I remember every year we used to have a Lebanese American come and play songs for us. At that era you were able to sort of culturally imbue almost all of the last one hundred years of American culture. It was all there to be touched and heard and seen and lived. It was there, in the air, but it was America so it was live and let live.

What was your entry point to bluegrass, then?

My brother is about eight years older than me. He went to college in the ‘60s — 1960 I guess was his first year. He got very involved in listening to like the Kingston Trio, the Limeliters, the beginning of the folk revival. Then he started bringing home records of Dave Van Ronk, Bob Dylan, and Joan Baez. That wasn’t really so much for me, but then he started bringing home some New Lost City Ramblers records and this other record that Mike Seeger was involved in, Mountain Music Bluegrass Style, which basically was recordings of the incredible bluegrass scene in Baltimore, Maryand, and Washington D.C. in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s — people like Earl Taylor and Smiley Hobbs, just an amazing collection. I really gravitated to that. I remember for my birthday he got me Foggy Mountain Jamboree, a compilation of the early, classic Flatt & Scruggs Columbia 45s. He was also involved in what they used to call jug and skiffle bands and they used to rehearse at the house. He played guitar and sang and there was a banjo player in the band who played some bluegrass and I was just very excited by that whole thing. That just did it for me. All I wanted to do was play bluegrass.

What was it about the music that grabbed your ear?

On a very simple level, emotionally, I was excited and moved by the music. It really spoke to me. The singing, the harmonies, the instrumental playing. There was an excitement to it that I really liked. I was very moved by the slower, ballad types of things, also. I started listening on the AM radio to WWVA out of Wheeling, West Virginia, which was a bastion of country music back at that time. We had a guitar in the house, my brother’s guitar, so I started learning the Doc Williams guitar method, I learned some chords, but I really wanted to learn banjo. I finally was able to get a banjo and started taking lessons.

On Sundays back then in Washington Square Park people would go down and play outside in different groups. There’d be a group playing bluegrass, a group doing topical songs, a group doing blues, so I started meeting people doing bluegrass. On these records that I liked I was getting more and more moved by the mandolin playing — it was really exciting me. Earl Taylor’s playing and I think on the Scruggs records it was Everett Lilly playing one or two solos that were just like, wow. I was getting chills from hearing this stuff. I decided I would make the switch and become a mandolinist. I had already been playing banjo and guitar for a few years. I was still in my early teens, so when I stepped into the mandolin role I already had some muscles developed and some understanding of the music.

The record, Monroe Bus, really clearly illustrates the value and the beauty that comes from allowing our musical art forms to reflect our identities. How do you think we can help foster the idea that any background or identity is valid and can be showcased through these art forms?

You know, I don’t think that way. Forgive me. I’m just into playing music, playing the best music that I can, and I’ve been fortunate that I’ve been able to study with a lot of musicians of different cultures and different backgrounds, both playing American music and music that maybe isn’t played here so much. To me, it’s all about the music. When I’m playing, I’m just playing. Identity or background is really meaningless to me. It was always like that, but at this point in my life even more so. When I’m playing I’m just looking to play the most meaningful music I can play. Those are my only real concerns.

 

Bill Monroe (foreground) and Andy Statman at Fincastle Bluegrass 1966. Photo by Fred Robbins

You are always blending different musical forms in these crazy, unexpected ways. How do you respond to folks that are worried that that dilutes bluegrass or that it will kill the genre in the long run? What’s your response to the typical, “That ain’t bluegrass” kind of gripe? Do you have one?

First of all, this is not a bluegrass record, obviously.

But there are undeniable bluegrass threads throughout.

Of course, but I’m not presenting myself as [pure bluegrass.] I spent a lot of time studying bluegrass, and there are always new insights and things to learn, but for me, the original blossoming of bluegrass is where it’s at, where it reached its fullest expression. If I’m going to listen to bluegrass, I’m probably going to listen to bluegrass from before 1970. Not to say that what came after is bad, this is just my preference. The feelings and creativity of that particular period, to me, are really unsurpassed. And while the technical level might have gotten better, this doesn’t necessarily make for a more meaningful, deeper music, it just makes for a more athletic music. [Laughs]

Listen, people have to be who they are. It’s just music. There are always going to be people who hear things differently, who want to add or subtract things, and if you don’t like it, then you don’t like it. I can see that there’s a strong core of people who are really interested in playing music in the mode of what was played in the ‘40s, ‘50s, and ‘60s. I think there isn’t any danger of that not continuing.

I do believe, though, that it’s important for musicians to really try and master a traditional style. Because, if you’re going to try to build on something, you really need to understand where it’s coming from, to be able to relate to that music on its own terms. Which is getting back to the roots of all this music and being able to speak that language naturally, in your own way and find your own voice in it. You’ll understand phrasing, variation, improvisation, how to play melodies, how to bring out what’s in the melody, how to play rhythm. Without that firm grounding in a particular style, particularly when we’re talking about folk music, it won’t click.

It’s interesting that you say that, because I think that a song that perfectly illustrates what you’re talking about on the record is “Raw Ride,” a sort of version of Bill Monroe’s “Rawhide.” I love this version because the song is so iconic, but you’re still turning it on its ear. You’re demonstrating that foundation that you’re talking about, but you’re finding your own voice in it. How did you come up with this arrangement?

Well, I’ve been playing the tune for years. “Rawhide” is one of those tunes that, if played in the traditional Monroe manner, requires a lot of energy. It’s always a question of is it worth the energy for the payoff? [Laughs] It usually is. There’s obvious extensions of the melody or the chords that you hear if you’ve been involved in playing other types of music. So I just sort of followed those. As with all of these things, it reflects who I am, my musical experiences, and my studies.

…When you’re writing music and playing music it really just reflects who you are and what your experiences are and how you live. It’s a reflection of that. That’s what Bill Monroe did. His music was a synthesis, an ongoing synthesis, and he developed a certain kind of aesthetic.

When I came out of the closet and was going through that process of coming to terms with my identity as a gay man, I had a moment where I doubted my place in bluegrass. I thought maybe bluegrass wasn’t the place for me, it wasn’t a place where I could belong. Did you ever feel like your Jewishness made you question your place in bluegrass?

Not really, no. To me, it was all about the music. All the musicians I know are wonderful, thoughtful, and kind people — in the bluegrass scene and in others as well. We’re all in this together and we all have a common passion for the music. It’s a uniting force. It has a real life of its own, and we’re just sort of passing through it, so to speak. If you’re worried about the thoughts or beliefs of the people you’re playing music with, then you can’t really be playing music. Music, in its essence, is the great unifier. It can unify people in terms of ideas and feelings and speak to the commonality of everyone. At that point, all of these other things melt away.

It really has to do with heart. It’s a spiritual thing. In Hasidic teachings they say that music, particularly instrumental music, can go higher than anything. A song without words isn’t even bound by the concepts of those words. In certain ways, it’s a universal heartbeat. You can see the tremendous life force that music carries. To me it’s something that’s very sacred.

Photo credit:Bradley Klein 

Tim O’Brien, “La Gringa Renee”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s February. It’s that time of the year when everyone is contemplating migrating closer and closer to the equator. Whether by plane or by car or by cruise, these dull gray winter months chase us to sunnier climes and happier times. “La Gringa Renee,” a meditative instrumental that’s equal parts Bolero and Klezmer, is the perfect soundtrack for such climes and times, especially given that it was inspired by the Yucatán peninsula, Soliman Bay, the wind through the palm fronds, and a lovely lady.

Tim O’Brien’s upcoming album, released as the Tim O’Brien Band and self-titled, is touted as landing “with two feet squarely back in bluegrass,” but this original is already a slight departure, toying with tropical, south of the border themes and languid melodies that rest and relax and dart and play just like children kicking up sand on the beach. O’Brien’s human inspiration, Jan Fabricius (whose middle name is Renee), appears on the album singing harmony vocals and playing some mandolin, but the band following the wistful, wavy palm fronds of O’Brien’s mandolin on this tune are Shad Cobb (fiddle), Patrick Sauber (banjo), and Mike Bub (bass) with special guest Bryan Sutton lending his unfalteringly tasteful guitar pickin’ as well.

We recommend pouring a drink with a summery, Caribbean flair, lounging back, and letting the tune wash over you like the incoming tide. It’s warm, inviting, and relaxing — with just a touch of O’Brien’s familiar voice cooing at us like a lullaby to sweetly bookend “La Gringa Renee.”