22 Top Bluegrass Duos

Everyone knows that in the early days of bluegrass, before that term was even coined, all you needed to make a “band” was two people and two instruments. Fiddle and banjo? Sure. But in those days, they’d take whatever they could get. Duos are still a strong presence in the music today, in brother/sibling duos, spouse-led bands, and legendary collaborations.

Check out these twenty-two bluegrass pairings — and their accoutrement — on BGS:

Bill & Charlie Monroe

Before Bill Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass, made his indelible mark on the genre (quite literally giving it its name), he was already a popular performer with his brothers Charlie and Birch. Birch left The Monroe Brothers in the mid-1930s, and Charlie and Bill went on to enjoy success on the road, in the studio, and on the radio — until rising tensions and a fateful fight in 1938 caused them to split ways. But, without that fight, we may not have “bluegrass” at all.

Flatt & Scruggs

December 1945. The Ryman Auditorium. Nashville, Tennessee. Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys stepped on stage for the Grand Ole Opry with Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs among their ranks for the very first time and bluegrass as we know it today was born. Flatt & Scruggs left Monroe in 1948 to join forces and went on to become one of the few ubiquitous, household names of bluegrass.

Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard

Undeniably trailblazers, Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard are widely regarded as the first women in bluegrass to capture the “high lonesome” sound popularized by Monroe, the Stanley Brothers, and others. They toured across the U.S., often supporting causes that benefited forgotten, downtrodden people from all backgrounds and walks of life. They were inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2017.

The Stanley Brothers

Natives of the music-rich southwest corner of Virginia, Carter and Ralph Stanley were prolific recording artists and touring musicians in bluegrass’s first generation. Countless songs written and/or popularized by the Stanley Brothers and their backing band, the Clinch Mountain Boys, are staples of the genre today. Carter passed in 1966 and Ralph continued until his death in 2016 with the Clinch Mountain Boys — who still tour today with Ralph’s son, Ralph II.

Don Reno & Red Smiley

Unsung trailblazers of the first generation of bluegrass pickers, Reno & Smiley were tireless innovators with a jovial, sometimes silly flair to their songs and instrumental prowess. Their duets are simply some of the best in all of bluegrass. The duo performed together off and on from the early 1950s to the 1970s — but both passed away much too young, Smiley in 1972 at the age of 46 and Reno in 1984 at the age of 58. Reno’s frenetic, electric and pedal steel guitar-infused licks remain unmatched in banjo picking today.

Jim & Jesse McReynolds

With matching suits and impeccable pompadours brothers Jim and Jesse McReynolds often brought rockabilly, rock ‘n’ roll, mainstream country and pop sensibilities to their take on sibling harmonies and bluegrass brother duos. Jesse’s crosspicking on the mandolin was — and continues to be — absolutely astonishing. Jim passed in 2002, Jesse continues to perform on the Grand Ole Opry to this day. At the time of this writing, he is ninety years old.

Laurie Lewis & Tom Rozum

Laurie Lewis often takes top billing — as leader of the Right Hands and before that, the Bluegrass Pals, and others — but since 1986 her musical partner Tom Rozum has almost constantly been at her side on the mandolin and harmonies. Their duo recording, The Oak and the Laurel, was nominated for a Grammy in 1995. Here is the album’s title track:

Bill Monroe & Doc Watson

What is there to say? Two of the folks who paved the way for this genre, laying a foundation so strong and far-reaching that we still can’t fully comprehend its impact. Bill and Doc collaborated on more than one occasion and we, as fans and disciples, are lucky that so many of these moments are captured in recordings and videos.

Del McCoury & David “Dawg” Grisman

At face value, an unlikely combo, but their friendship goes back to the early 1960s and their musical endeavors together began soon after. As Del slowly but surely became a bastion for traditional bluegrass aesthetics applied broadly, Dawg embraced jammy, jazzy, new acoustic sounds that sometimes only register as bluegrass-adjacent because they come from the mandolin. Opposite sides of the same coin, their duet makes total sense while at the same time challenging everything we think we know about the music. In this clip, Dawg sings tenor to Del — not many would be brave enough to try!

Ricky Skaggs & Keith Whitley

They got their start together in the Clinch Mountain Boys with Ralph Stanley, making some of the best recordings in the history of the band’s many iterations. Before they both struck out on wildly successful, mainstream careers they recorded a seminal duo album together, Second Generation. It remains one of the most important albums in the bluegrass canon — especially as far as duos/duets go.

Norman & Nancy Blake

Norman is well known for his flatpicking prowess, which has graced recordings by John Hartford, Bob Dylan, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and so many others. He and his wife, Nancy, were married in 1975 after having begun their musical forays together a year or so earlier. Nancy’s command of many instruments — cello, mandolin, and fiddle among them — balances neatly with Norman’s jaw-dropping, singular style on the flattop. Their inseparable harmonies and timeless repertoire are merely icing on the cake.

Jimmy Martin & Ralph Stanley

How their first album together, First Time Together (cough), is not more well-known is truly impossible to understand. The King of Bluegrass and the Man of Constant Sorrow twining their extraordinary voices must have been ordained by a higher power. It’s a good thing they answered the call. Be careful, Jimmy’s percussive G-runs feel like a slap in the face — in the best way.

Darrell Scott & Tim O’Brien

Their live albums together and their co-written masterpieces belong in every museum and shrine to roots music around the world. Both of these triple threat (Quadruple? Quintuple? When do we stop counting?) musicians are rampantly successful in their own right, but together they are simply transcendent. Their cut of “Brother Wind” deserves a listen right this instant and “House of Gold” gives you the harmony acrobatics gut punch you need every time. It was nearly impossible to choose just one, but here’s a hit that was recorded once by a little group called the Dixie Chicks.

Ricky Skaggs & Tony Rice

Again, words fail. Skaggs & Rice is a desert island record. Each and every time these two have graced a recording or a stage together, magic has been made, from their days with J.D. Crowe & the New South and on. We only wish that they could have done more together.

Vern & Ray

Vern Williams and Ray Park were California’s original bluegrass sons. Though they were both born and raised in Arkansas, they relocated to Stockton, California, as adults. They’re often credited with “introducing” bluegrass music to the West Coast. They disbanded in 1974 (both passed in the early 2000s), but their influence is palpable to this day, even if they’re sorely unheard of east of the Mississippi. This deserves correction! Immediately!

Eddie & Martha Adcock

Eddie is a pioneering banjo player who’s a veteran of both Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys and The Country Gentlemen, two decidedly legendary and influential acts. His style is somewhat wacky, certainly singular, but effortlessly bluegrass and traditional as well. He married Martha in the late 1970s and the pair have toured prolifically as a duo. In 2008, Eddie underwent brain surgery to correct debilitating hand tremors. He was kept awake, playing the banjo during the procedure — and there is jaw-dropping film of this online!

Dailey & Vincent

When Dailey & Vincent burst onto the scene in the mid-aughts after both having notable careers as sidemen, the bluegrass community rejoiced at the reemergence of a wavering art form within the genre — traditional duo singing. However, Jamie and Darrin, whether they knew it at the time or not, had their sights set much higher. Now more of a full-blown stage show than a bluegrass band, their recordings and concerts are a high-energy, charismatic, and downright entertaining mix of classic country, Southern gospel, quartet singing, and yes, bluegrass.

Kenny & Amanda Smith

Husband and wife Kenny and Amanda first recorded together in 2001, going on to win IBMA’s Emerging Artist of the Year award two years later. They’ve now cut eight albums together, all clean, clear, crisp modern bluegrass that centers on Amanda’s impossibly bright vocals, which maintain a personal, country hue alongside Kenny’s fantastic flatpicking. SON!

Tom T. & Dixie Hall

Two of the most recent inductees into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Tom T. and Dixie Hall wrote hundreds and hundreds of songs cut by country, bluegrass, and Americana artists alike. Tom T.’s reputation and chart-topping originals tend to eclipse Dixie, but he is unyielding in his efforts to point that same spotlight at his beloved wife instead, who passed away in 2015. Though she never performed — definitely not to the extent that Tom T. did — the marks she left on bluegrass, country, and her partnership with her husband are indelible. This number was co-written by the pair:

The Louvin Brothers

Recipients of IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement Award in 1992, the Louvin Brothers are another example of early bluegrassers who enjoyed the amorphous, primordial days of the genre before it became more and more sequestered from mainstream country and country radio. Their duets are iconic, with counter-intuitive contours and lines that bands and singers still have difficulty replicating to this day. Their most famous contribution to the American music zeitgeist, though, might not be their music, but the spectacular cover art for their 1959 album, Satan Is Real. If you haven’t seen it, Google it right now.

Delia Bell & Bill Grant

Natives of Texas and Oklahoma, respectively, Delia Bell and Bill Grant met through Bell’s husband, Bobby, in the late 1950s. Between their band, the Kiamichi Mountain Boys, and their duo project they recorded more than a dozen albums together through the 1980s. Famously, Emmylou Harris became a fan when she heard their cut of “Roses in the Snow,” which Harris went on to record on her eponymous bluegrass record. Bell died in 2018.

The Osborne Brothers

Though they popularized a style of three-part harmony that had never been heard before — the infamous “high lead” harmony stack — their band, no matter who it may have included over the years, was undeniably helmed and anchored by Bobby and Sonny. (Which does explain the name.) You may remember “Rocky Top” and “Ruby” first and foremost in their discography, but the hits they’ve contributed to the bluegrass songbook are innumerable. Here’s one such classic.

Dismissing the Suits: A Conversation With The Milk Carton Kids (1 of 2)

The Milk Carton Kids have been about nothing if not duality. That’s down to their very name, which evokes both comedy and tragedy, and their stage presence, in which some of the stateliest and most delicate songs possible are broken up by riotously deadpan banter. They’ve always been about duo-ality, too — two voices and guitars, gathered around a single microphone, contemplative Everlys for the 21st century, unaugmented by anything that would have seemed rank or strange to the Stanley Brothers back in the 1950s.

But now, suddenly, almost everything you know about the Milk Carton Kids is wrong — at least the formal elements. They’ve dropped the formal suits and picked up separate mics… and a full band, too, while they were at it. Could this be their Dylan-goes-electric moment? Not to worry — there probably won’t be any cries of “Judas!” greeting their fifth album, All the Things That I Did and All the Things That I Didn’t Do, or a touring ensemble that no longer fits in a single front seat. It’s not just that the new material is superb — although that never hurts — but that the fuller arrangements sound like a natural progression in what is still scaled for intimacy.

Before we get to the Kids, we queried producer Joe Henry for his thoughts about how necessary or smooth the transition was, going from duo to band configuration. He admitted there was at least the fleeting consideration of a backlash — “I don’t imagine it possible that the Kids weren’t individually and collectively pondering the response of an audience that has been so steadfast in their devotions to the band’s brazen and brave duo commitment to date.” But, Henry says, “I saw no evidence that the looming question gave them any pause… And no one involved that I’m aware of had any doubt that such a shift was now not only timely but imperative: they’d reached a point where the color of the light, so to speak, needed to reflect their growth as musicians and songwriters––this batch of songs being so particularly strong as to invite, nay, insist on a presentation equal in its evolution.”

The producer adds that the Kids are “still very much a duo in ethos and execution. There is real drama in the intimacy of Ken and Joey pushing up to a single mic in symbiotic solitude, and it was important to all three of us going in that that image remain intact ––even as new sonic weather kicked up and swirled around them.”

When we sat down with Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan at a Van Nuys coffee shop in June, we found that off-stage they’re just like they are on-stage… only more so.

As part of changing things up, you’ve decided this is also the right time to go for street clothes in concert, right?

Joey: Talk about decisions that were never actually made.

Kenneth: Yeah, that one’s still TBD. I mean, we get on the tour bus tonight. Joey’s near his closet, but I didn’t bring anything from Nashville, so if I’m wearing a suit tomorrow, I’m gonna have to go to the Men’s Warehouse in Tucson. The advice I’ve gotten from literally everybody on earth is that they’re gonna be saddened to not see me in a suit, and that we should be wearing them. But… f— ‘em. [Laughs.]

Joey: Well, I never wanted to wear a suit. The reason that we wore suits in the beginning was as a part of a collection of survival techniques.

Kenneth: Given your druthers, you’d dress like an ass-clown, that’s why. And you can quote me on that!

Joey: [Sighs.] See, how can people not love us? No, it was a part of a suite of survival techniques that we developed when we were playing in very…

Kenneth: Techniques or tactics?

Joey: Techniques.

Kenneth: There are survival techniques? I think they’re mostly tactics. It’s interesting to hear you’ve developed survival technique. It sounds like something they’d sell in the Valley.

Joey: Those words are synonyms. It’s a survival tactic and a technique. In any case, in the early days, we were playing this really sonically fragile show, and the only places that would book us were like the smallest rock club or bar or coffee shop sometimes in town. In a dive bar, we would wear suits to visually indicate that it was just something different than what they would maybe expect to see in that room, so that you could have some chance for the first couple minutes of people taking note and going, “Alright, what is this gonna be? I’m going to shut up and listen for one song.” You at least have a song. You have that chance to get ‘em to stop talking loudly in the bars that they’re used to talking in and maybe pay attention to the show, because our show required that.

It’s not like an attention-seeking preciousness. It’s like a physical, sonic fragility that we had, because we mic-ed our guitars, and you just can’t turn it up that loud. The perfect example is how we played at the Beachland Tavern in Cleveland, Ohio, many times. It’s a great place but the beer fridge is louder than we could get the PA, so we had to ask the bar to unplug their beer fridge, and they were so accommodating. I don’t know what happened to the beer. And they would also bring in rows of folding chairs, which literally no other band would ever even ask them to do. But we always wanted to be in a theater where people would be able to receive what we were trying to present, and the suits were just part of that. Now, with the band…

Kenneth: You’re gonna go back to flip-flops!

Joey: With the band… [Long, exasperated pause.] See, people always say we’re antagonistic. I think it’s just him. No, with the band, we don’t have the sonic fragility that we had before. … And so the whole misdirection of wearing a suit in unexpected places is not required. That was a long way of saying: I’m excited to not wear suits.

How early or late in the process did you decide to go with a band for this album?

Joey: We decided three years ago in Dusseldorf, Germany that we weren’t going to make the next album as a duo… It was just a moment. It wasn’t like we even talked it out. [To Kenneth:] You were like, “I think we should probably do the full-band thing next.” And I was like, “Oh, thank God you said that, because I’ve been worrying about how to bring that up.” But you always break the ice.

Kenneth: Yeah. I’m a talker.

I’m always interested in how people who are identified with a very specific thing decide to change it up… or not. A lot of times, people back away from giving up the thing that people identify as unique.

Kenneth: It’s always risky to go down these philosophical rabbit holes in interviews like this, because invariably they come out not reading exactly as intended, but I’ll go anyway, because who gives a shit? One of our blind spots -– and I think it’s a common blind spot for artists specifically — is that Joey and I for a long time had a complete inability to understand what was good about our band, while also knowing it in our core. And it’s necessary. If we knew what that was, I think that we would lean into it, and it would get tired very quickly and wouldn’t mature and evolve.

But for the first year and a half of our band, Joey and I didn’t realize that we were good just because when we sang together, it sounded like something that people either had never heard before or hadn’t heard in a while, or it bore a trueness that was just apparent in its physics. Joey and I thought that it was a result of all the hard work we do about making sure our harmonies are tight or about phrasing or about all these marginal things that we quibble over. You really lose sight of what the fundamental thread is that actually is the reason the whole thing exists. And we still have that blind spot. There’s something that’s just innate in what you do from the beginning that we take for granted.

So what is the thing you have the blind spot about, that your audience totally gets?

Kenneth: To put it really simply, when Joey and I sing together, it reminds people of Simon and Garfunkel, the way they actually physically combine, like alchemy in the air, or the way the Everlys did it, or the Louvin Brothers. When Joey and I sing together, there is some physical chemistry that is actually, like, we have to try hard to f— it up. And we have from time to time, but we’ve got an advantage coming out of the gate to other people singing harmony together, in that there’s something that just works about it.

And then there’s a similar shared vision in our writing and stylistic choices, and even essential life administration, where, outside of a few blowouts where we figured out what the problem was, the way they rub together results in this strange band that people haven’t kicked out of life yet.

Read the second half of this interview.


Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

3×3: Robert Francis on Rescuing the Pitbulls, Disappearing from Parties, and Playing the Piano

Artist: Robert Francis
Hometown: Los Angeles, CA
Latest Album: Indian Summer
Personal Nicknames: Baboo or the Crushed Beer Can

a Tim Reed classic

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If you could safely have any animal in the world as a pet, which would you choose?

I’d like to have a ranch with hundreds of rescued pitbulls.

Do your socks always match?

Never

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose?

The power to disappear from parties.

miss this

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Which describes you as a kid — tree climber, video gamer, or book reader?

All of the above.

Who was the best teacher you ever had — and why?

My father. When I was two years old, he’d hum melodies and ask me to play them back to him on the piano. That’s how I developed my ear. He was an amateur astronomer, photographer, and classical record producer.

What’s your favorite city?

New Orleans. My grandad and all the men in our family before him are from there.

Boots or sneakers?

Boots

Which brothers do you prefer — Avett, Wood, Stanley, Comatose, or Louvin?

Louvin

Head or heart?

Heart

3×3: Alex Williams on Austin, English, and Traveling Back to the ’70s

Artist: Alex Williams
Hometown: Pendleton, IN
Latest Album: Better Than Myself
Personal Nicknames: Skinny

If you could safely have any animal in the world as a pet, which would you choose?

Buffalo

Do your socks always match?

Never

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose?

Time travel to live in the early/mid-1970s.

 

Fredericksburg! Thank yall very much. Till next time. 

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Which describes you as a kid — tree climber, video gamer, or book reader?

Tree Climber

Who was the best teacher you ever had — and why?

Mrs. Douglas … English teacher who really got me into writing.

What’s your favorite city?

Austin, TX

 

Boots or sneakers?

Boots

Which brothers do you prefer — Avett, Wood, Stanley, Comatose, or Louvin?

Louvin

Head or heart?

Heart


Photo credit: Nicole Flammia

3×3: Amber Cross on Lions, Louvins, and Not Liking Fresno

Artist: Amber Cross
Hometown: Woodland, ME
Latest Album: Savage on the Downhill
Personal Nicknames: mom

 

Tubby time!

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If you could safely have any animal in the world as a pet, which would you choose?

Moose or a lion

Do your socks always match?

Most days

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose?

I would fly

 

On my 5th load of flannels!Gearing up for Central Coast Folk Festival and Parkfield Bluegrass Festival!!

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Which describes you as a kid — tree climber, video gamer, or book reader?

Tree climber

Who was the best teacher you ever had — and why?

Dr. Oliver Ford. He was both the president and an English teacher at a college I attended my freshman year. I enjoyed his creative writing assignments immensely. He and his wife helped me out and showed their support in countless ways. Don’t think I could have gotten through that year without them.

What’s your favorite city?

I really don’t like the city, but I have a soft spot for Fresno. There’s no NO like Fresno.

 

Last Saturday nights lineup. Red Barn Los Osos.

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Boots or sneakers?

Boots

Which brothers do you prefer — Avett, Wood, Stanley, Comatose, or Louvin?

Louvin

Head or heart?

Heart

3×3: Bombadil on Sloths, Sneakers, and Sisters

Artist: Stacy Harden, James Phillips, and Daniel Michalak (of Bombadil)
Hometown: Durham, NC
Latest Album: Fences
Personal Nicknames: Racer Whiteside, Strong Foot, Z Pocket

 

Saturday rehearsal. We’re excited to have Bryan Rahija along for a chunk of our release tour.

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If you could safely have any animal in the world as a pet, which would you choose?

SH: Two-Toed Sloth.

JP: A pug named Frederick.

DM: Squirrel.

Do your socks always match?

SH: 99 percent of the time.

JP: Always!

DM: Yes, but they have holes.

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose?

SH: Adamantium claws.

JP: Definitely flight, although I’d want invincibility with that ability, as well. A close second would be the ability to freeze time.

DM: Time travel.

 

contemplating innovation in PDX.

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What’s your go-to road food?

SH: JJBLT.

JP: Burrito!

DM: WaWa hoagies/gas station hot water.

Who was the best teacher you ever had — and why?

SH: In high school, my senior year history teacher, Andrew Smithson, would sometimes go off on a tangent and give us lessons on basic life skills. Once, we were supposed to be learning about George Washington’s farewell address, but instead we learned how to balance a checkbook.

JP: Jenny Conlee was an amazing piano teacher. She was so thorough, encouraging, and organized. I’m still working on exercises she gave me five years ago and trying to keep my pesky left pinky in line.

DM: Plants … they teach patience, and that death is okay and inevitable without water.

What’s your favorite city?

SH: Any city with its own style of BBQ.

JP: Metropolis.

DM: I love all cities.

 

-5 Celsius tonight in NC…making tents for my sweet peas!

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Boots or sneakers?

SH: Usually sneakers.

JP: Sneakers.

DM: Sneaks!

Which brothers do you prefer — Avett, Wood, Stanley, Comatose, or Louvin?

SH: Louvin

JP: I’ve never had a brother, so I pick my sister Anne.

DM: My brother, John.

Up or down?

SH: Up!

JP: Up!

DM: UP!

3×3: Romantica on Matching Socks, History Lessons, and Louvin Brothers

Artist: Ben Kyle (of Romantica)
Hometown: Minneapolis, MN
Latest Album: Shadowlands
Personal Nicknames: Benny Boo, T-Dizzle, Danger Dave, Fabulous Fabbrini, Lovan Spoonful, Sister J.

If you were in a high school marching band, which instrument would you want to play?

The snare. It’s all about the groove.

Do your socks always match?

YES.

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose?

Healing.

What’s your go-to road food?

Chipotle. At least you know it’s GMO-free, the meats are almost reasonably raised, and you can’t beat that guac for healthy fat!

Who was the best teacher you ever had — and why?

Steve Duesterbeck. Ninth grade history. At least once a day he would say, “War is hell and people die.”

What’s your favorite TV show?

The Waltons

Boots or sneakers?

Sneakers. I used to be cool. Now I’m comfortable.

Which brothers do you prefer — Avett, Wood, Stanley, Comatose, or Louvin?

Louvin.

Canada or Mexico?

Love ’em both. If I had to choose … Mexico. My father-in-law has a ranch in the mountains outside Gaudalajara.


Photo credit: Nicole McCoy Photography

Reading List: 5 of the Best Bluegrass Biographies

We've offered you plenty of options for learning about the history of bluegrass masters via streaming, but what about good old-fashioned books? For those of you who like your learning a bit more in-depth and enjoy the heft of a good book (or, we hate to say, the sleek screen of a Kindle) in your hands, we've rounded up a handful of the best bluegrass biographies (and autobiographies) out there. 

Can't You Hear Me Callin': The Life of Bill Monroe, Father of Bluegrass, by Richard Smith

Few musicians have had more influence on bluegrass than Bill Monroe, and this biography seeks to explain that influence — one that, truth be told, no book could sum up — in 352 pages of extensive interviews, thoroughly researched musical history, and rare glimpses into Monroe's personal life. There's no better lens through which to understand bluegrass than the career of Bill Monroe, and this book is as close as you can get to the man himself.

Man of Constant Sorrow: My Life and Times, by Dr. Ralph Stanley

There's nothing quite like hearing it from the man himself, and there's no man we'd want to hear "it" from more than Dr. Ralph Stanley. In this 2010 autobiography, the banjo pioneer reflects on his monumentally influential career, from his early days learning his craft in Virginia to his time touring well into his '80s. This is a must-read for any bluegrass fan.

Satan Is Real: The Ballad of the Louvin Brothers, by Charlie Louvin and Benjamin Whitmer

Two of the godfathers of country harmony, Ira and Charlie Louvin traded their gospel roots for country music around the time the genre was picking up unstoppable speed in the mainstream. Devout Baptists with a handful of sinful habits (particularly in Ira's case), the brothers were a "real life Cain and Abel," as is described in this Charlie-penned autobiography. This one should appeal to fans of music and William Faulkner alike.

I Hear a Voice Calling: A Bluegrass Memoir, by Gene Lowinger

You may not know the name Gene Lowinger (or, hey, maybe you know enough about the genre that you should write your own book), but the New Jersey born fiddler was around for Bill Monroe's final years, and he documented the father of bluegrass in a series of intimate photographs that show the legendary musician both on and off stage. Lowinger also shares tales of brushes with other bluegrass greats, including the New York Ramblers and the Greenbriar Boys.

Smart Blonde: Dolly Parton, by Stephen Miller

Dolly Parton may not be a bluegrasser in the traditional sense, but her rags-to-riches tale of growing up in the mountains of east Tennessee to become one of the biggest country stars on the planet falls in line with the career trajectories of many of our grassier favorites. And while there are countless books on Parton available, this one, which will receive an updated reprint in May of this year, is often considered the definitive source.


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