Tedeschi Trucks Band Have Done It Again

When it comes to entirely enjoyable, technically exquisite modern blues, Southern rock, and jam-band soul albums, Tedeschi Trucks Band have a statistically impossible batting average. Their new LP, Future Soul (released March 20 via Fantasy Records), is yet another “no skips” collection from the megalithic 12-person Americana group fronted by husband-and-wife guitarist Derek Trucks and guitarist-vocalist Susan Tedeschi.

On that strength of their catalog – and their ensemble – TTB have amassed hundreds of millions of streams, won eight Blues Music Awards and one GRAMMY, and a handful of their songs have become regarded as modern standards in the Americana and American roots music songbook.

Future Soul simultaneously feels like a surprising departure and familiar, essential territory for the band. With Mike Elizondo producing and songs and creative input sourced from across the group’s lineup, the set ends up sounding and feeling more acoustic than “usual,” while still reaching roaring crescendos and building it all on dank, wide open grooves. Perhaps those acoustic moments are a substantial contributing factor as well, but the cozy, plush pocket of the album is what gives it a laid-back, relaxed, and floating vibe no matter the track’s genre construction.

Screaming slide, no-holds-barred vocals, and wall-of-sound climaxes can all be found herein, as well. But the collection never thrashes or flails, it’s precise and exacting – as Tedeschi and Trucks are both known to be on their instruments, whether guitar or voice – but it’s certainly not sterile or gated or homogenized, either. It’s another remarkable feat for a group so large that you would almost have to assume, live or in studio, musical mud would be an inevitable byproduct.

But no, TTB seem to have no misses, at least not on Future Soul. It’s clear this group works together in harmony not just because of the down-to-earth and collaborative leadership of Tedeschi and Trucks, but because the artistic and musical responsibilities and ownership – of the songs themselves, of the album, of the makings of each, of “success” for the band – are decentralized and distributed throughout the group. The band has a sound, an art, that is consistently collective in the way it’s received by audiences and listeners because, forgive the obviousness, Tedeschi Trucks Band always work as a collective.

In our BGS conversation with Derek Trucks, the magic and unlikelihood of this creative dynamic and the processes by which the band continues to rack up success after success were on full display. We spoke about how they put together Future Soul as a group effort, the many inputs that went into Trucks fashioning his lyrical guitar style, and what bluegrass means to him personally, to Tedeschi, and the band as a whole. It was a joy-filled, passion-led conversation that again reinforced how this wailin’, rockin’, rollin’ band continues to flout and subvert expectations – and thereby has become so beloved.

Something that jumped out at me from the bio about the new album is that you say, “There’s just not a weak spot on this record.” I have to say, I totally agree. I think it’s remarkable that with a 12-person band and such a diverse catalog of recordings and releases, it really doesn’t seem like there’s any “fat” to trim or any duds to cull.

I have to ask, does it feel as magical on the inside of that process as it seems from the outside? It seems unlikely that y’all would work so well together towards a common goal, artistically, and be able to deliver again and again and again. And I don’t just mean commercially, awards-wise, or for audiences alone. Clearly you’re delivering artistically for yourselves and by your own standards, as well. So, does it feel as unlikely on the inside of that process as it maybe does to us on the outside looking in? [Both laugh]

Derek Trucks: That’s awesome. But it does, man! I mean, not every record you do feels the same way. They’re all their own beasts. For I Am The Moon, it was in a time of great uncertainty. We did four records and it was just kind of a heavy, heavy time – and that record feels like that.

This one felt completely different. The band felt much more confident [and] had been touring for two years straight. We had been playing so much together that when we finally got the core of the group up to our farm in Georgia to do some writing, there were a few songs right out of the gate. Like “Future Soul” and “Who Am I,” where immediately, Sue started singing, Gabe [Dixon] started singing these melodies. I got chills and I was like, “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

You’re always kind of worried about running out of ideas, or running out of runway – like a thing in the back of your head. But I feel like we’re incredibly fortunate where, when we’re together, everyone puts everything they have into it. Then, when we’re not on the road together, everyone’s all doing their own things musically. So, when we come back together, there’s a lot to talk about and a lot of music to remember together.

I think it keeps it really fresh and it keeps it moving forward. I feel like everyone’s out honing their craft when they’re away from this. When they come back, there’s a lot of new ground to cover. So far, we’ve been really, really lucky that way. And there’s a handful of just incredible songwriters in the band, so everybody comes in with two or three ideas. You’ve got a pretty strong record right out of the gate. That’s been something that I think me and Sue are just realizing – we’ve known how amazing that is but, you know, Gabe and Mike [Mattison], they show up with some serious ideas.

Then having Mike [Elizondo, the album’s producer] down, just some outside ears – I think that was really important. Sonically, he was trying some different things that I think inspired the band and made everybody play a little differently. That was exciting.

I was struck by the range of styles and the different genre infusions that y’all have put into this collection. What really stuck out to me, listening down to the project in one fell swoop, is there are still those really big energetic moments – and there are still those “wall of sound” moments that y’all are really known for. But I felt like this album is chill and laid-back in a way; it feels deep in the pocket. Can you talk about capturing those seemingly disconnected energies together?

I think one of the things is that with a band or an artist, I think if you’re maturing properly – we learn sometimes slowly – that you don’t have to force the issue all the time. You can trust things around you a little bit more, and sometimes the groove is enough. Sometimes the chord changes are enough, sometimes the melodies are enough. It doesn’t have to be these epic moments at all times. So when they do come, you’re excited about it and wrings you out. Then you lay them back down, and then you go on another little trip.

I think the band, having played together so much, we’re in a different place that way, where we realize that you don’t have to force the issue on every song. You can go to different spaces, different places. And then, again, having some outside ears – Elizondo really helps with that, too. He helps guide you to places that maybe you wouldn’t have gone naturally, so that’s a fun thing. Then you learn things about yourself musically in the band that you didn’t know before. That’s always a good place to be.

One thing that I’ve been obsessed with about your playing, specifically, ever since I discovered you as a teenager, is how lyrical of a guitar player you are. It jumped out at me from the bio, as well, when you’re talking about “I Got You” and how you’re doing a guitar-voice dialogue instead of guitar-guitar. I think of you as one of the most lyrical guitarists out there. You’re so present and so grounded. So I’ve always wanted to ask you how you’ve cultivated that style – as well as being able to have those moments of pure shreddy, lick-y wailing.

Then hearing that you really wanted to make that connection between voice and guitar on this album made so much sense to me, because I’m always thinking about how you’re a lyrical player. And Susan is, too, and you both dialogue with your instruments, and her voice, often.

Pretty early on I had a few musical epiphanies. One was Allen Woody, who played with Gov’t Mule and the Allman Brothers. When we toured with my solo band, opening for a Gov’t Mule in the early days, he would always turn me on to records. He gave me this CD by this guy named Aubrey Ghent, who was a gospel [steel] player. I put on “Amazing Grace” and I was like, “Wow, what an amazing voice.” And then I heard the pick and I realized that it was this guy playing lap steel! But it sounded like a woman singing. I got chills [over] my whole body, and I was like, “That’s it, that’s the thing.”

I had been listening to a lot of Indian classical music – a lot of vocalists and sarod players. Me and our old [Derek Trucks Band] bass player, Todd Smallie, went to Ali Akbar College of Music in San Rafael, [California] and they would let us sit in on classes. I realized he [Ali Akbar Khan] made all the instrumentalists take vocal classes, because his whole thing was that you should be singing through your instrument. So that made it just really obvious.

Those were a few of the things, and then there was a long time where I just stopped listening to any guitar player. It was only singers and horn players. That was kind of the idea [that] musical ideas can come from anywhere, but you really should be singing the thing. There’s time for all of it, but the stuff that moves me the most is, you know – even hearing Duane Allman on “Blue Sky” or something. It sounds like somebody’s singing, like somebody is walking down the road whistling. I think those are probably the touchstones for me.

Maybe I am projecting a little bit, because I’ve been a bluegrass banjo player my whole life – I started playing when I was seven. But when I think of guitarists, especially who end up reaching the pinnacle – whatever that is – or especially in flatpicking and in bluegrass, there tends to be this homogeneity of style. The people who get to the “very top” end up all sounding like each other. Then you have those folks that really stand out, and it tends to be because they’re using space and using air as much as they’re using 16th notes and 32nd notes. I think, being used to really shreddy flatpicking, that hearing steel or slide or blues guitar or jazz or acoustic jazz, anything plays with sustain and plays with space, I just drink it up.

Beautiful, man. I remember the first time I heard the Stanley Brothers, or Ralph Stanley, and I just remember it hit me in that place where those early blues guys hit me. There was just something about it. That kind of cracked that whole world open for me. I mean, I was always a Tony Rice fan. We have the same birthday, so I thought that was cool.

No way, I didn’t know that.

And I remember being at a MerleFest years ago, I think it was one of the last ones that Doc played. I remember seeing this old Oldsmobile or Cadillac – I don’t know, it seemed like an 1980s or ‘90s car – it pulled up to the stage and I see Tony Rice get out, just dressed to the nines. He pops the trunk, gets his guitar, hits the stage, and then right when that set was over, he was back in that car! I was over there thinking, “What a boss.” It was incredible, man. He went up and just annihilated everybody and got back in his car and drove his ass home. Pretty incredible.

So funny.

The last time we talked to you for the site, you were Artist of the Month in 2019 and you talked about Del McCoury and Jerry Douglas. I know you’ve played DelFest a bunch, you’ve collaborated with Billy Strings – oh, and I was super excited to see Molly Tuttle supporting on a couple dates of your TTB tour in April, too.

Yeah, we’re excited for that. That’s gonna be great.

What does bluegrass mean to you? Obviously, there’s Ralph Stanley, Tony Rice – there are pickers and makers in bluegrass that are infused into what you do, but what does the genre mean to you more broadly? And who in the space right now inspires you, or your musical vocabulary, or what you guys are doing in the band?

When I think of American music, I think of blues, I think of bluegrass, and I think of jazz. I think [those are] the things that we’ve really contributed to the world. To me, those are the cornerstones of it.

We’ve become good friends with Sturgill [Simpson] over the years, and he’s dipped into that [bluegrass] place. When I hear him sing it I’m like, “Oh yep, that’s because he’s from there.” He’s from the heart of it, and it makes me feel the way Ralph Stanley does at times. Even guys like Tyler Childers – and Sue’s a big Sierra Ferrell fan. She loves all those records.

That music, even the current guys, it’s always playing around here. I don’t know, it just feels inspiring to hear. People just get on an acoustic instrument and rip one. You’re like, “Oh yeah! There’s still people that know how to do things!” [Laughs]

That’s the big inspiration I take from it. Because [in the music industry] there’s a lot of cutting corners, and that’s a music that there’s no cutting corners. You gotta put your time in and take your licks or you’re just not gonna get on stage. I appreciate not just the dexterity, but the vocabulary and the heart that goes into it.

And there’s just something about seeing a group around one microphone just doing the dance that I think is always inspiring. We’ve done some shows recently with Sam Grisman, we did a benefit [for Camp Winnarainbow] out in San Francisco. Peter Rowan was on it, and me and Sue, and it was all acoustics. I had an old National, and just getting to play with that group – just the way that group felt. Sitting on a stool with a Dobro, and they were coming and going around the microphone. And then, getting to hang after the show with Peter Rowan and him telling these stories, man. It was just incredibly inspiring. Some of the songs that we got to play with them – that dude [David “Dawg” Grisman] has written some incredible music. That was one of the highlights of last year. It was pretty damn incredible.

There’s a lot of acoustics on this new album, too. I did find myself wondering, and maybe I’m biased, but does the world need a 12-piece bluegrass band? It might! It might! [Laughs]

Man, that sounds pretty fun to me. I mean, it would be a lot less gear to carry on the road! Which would make it more plausible.[Laughs]

If you wanted to speedrun pissing off a fan base, this might be the way to do it.

[Laughs] Yes, alright, we will be thinking about this! I’m gonna go talk to Sue.

This next one is kind of for me, so I thank you in advance for humoring me. But I wanted to talk to you about Jack Pearson. When I first moved to town, I just met this guy out jamming on mandolin at these bluegrass jams. I’d be like, “Man, this guy’s so nice.” He’s a great picker. He’s a great singer. I got a lot of practice playing swing with him at jams in town. Then folks started being like, “Hey, do you know who that is?” Oh my god, I did not know who it was. He was just my bluegrass jam pal. Then I worked at the Station Inn for a few years and I got to work a bunch of his trio shows. I’d die for the solo acoustic sets he’d do on the set break.

Incredible.

If I were to list maybe my top 5 favorite guitarists of all time, I feel like you and Jack would both be on that list. So I wanted to have a little nerdy moment to talk about Jack. [Laughs] Can you talk about his playing and your guys’ friendship? Of course, I see so many connections between your musical vocabularies and that lyrical style we were talking about.

Yeah, man I need to check up on him. It’s been a minute. I need to check in on old Jackie P.

He’s a monster, man. He’s one of the few people that can actually go play in a straight-ahead jazz band, in a bluegrass band, and then the Allman Brothers. I mean, maybe the only person that can actually do it.

I totally agree.

I mean, he played with Jimmy Smith. This dude is like, he’s an absolute monster. And a sweet fella! You can’t say enough good things. When I joined the Allman Brothers, Jack was just leaving. So all the tapes I got, like learning the new versions of the tunes, were Jack Pearson tapes. At the time, Bud Snyder was the sound man. He would mix these tapes for me with Jack really boosted in the mix. I could hear exactly what he was doing to learn these things. I got an intimate take on the way Jack was approaching these Allman tunes. It was so unique.

There’s no one [that] plays like him, and [his playing is] about as smooth as it gets. Sometimes, you watch him play – and I know he plays really light strings and he plays low action – and the way his hands move, I’ve never seen anyone play quite like that. Then he busts out a slide and you’re like, “Holy shit! This dude can do anything!” [Laughs]

I know!

He’s one of the unsung heroes. There’s no doubt about it.

He does this thing – and you do this as well – where you’re able to leverage that really gritty, aggressive, absolutely on-the-razor’s-edge style that comes with blues and Southern rock and Americana. Then at the same time, like you’re saying, with light strings and low action, still has such a deft touch. Yet he has such great attack and precision and cleanliness. He is a great lesson in taste. His taste is impeccable.

Yeah, I think that’s exactly it. I think we forget a lot of the time that most of what we love about music is the musician’s taste. I mean, you got to put in the work – and Jack has obviously done that, that dude is a master. But his taste is really as good as anybody.

I think he’s probably a bigger influence on me than I even realized. Probably because of that early Allman Brothers time for me. I was jumping in at 20 years old, 21 years old. And all of a sudden it’s, “Here’s 60 songs to learn, and rehearsal/tryout is in a few weeks. I was like, “Well, give me those dates.”

I’m stressed just hearing about that.

I mean, luckily most of that music I had listened to my whole life, but I had never bothered to learn any of them. I mean, I knew “One Way Out” and “Statesboro [Blues],” that doesn’t take long. It was all the other shit!


Photo Credit: Chapman Baehler

Doc Watson & Earl Scruggs’ Friendship in Photographs

It’s no secret that Earl Scruggs and Doc Watson were great friends, collaborators, and mutual admirers. Both of the bluegrass, old-time, and mountain-music stylists took inspiration and borrowed heavily from the other across their careers, whether they were making music together or separately in any of their many endeavors. The moments they came together, though – from The Three Pickers album and concert film, to David Hoffman’s iconic backyard jam session film of the Scruggs and Watson clans picking together, to many more appearances and recordings – were always magical. Two legendary stylists bouncing musical ideas off of each other as only these two could.

In honor of our Doc in December series for Artist of the Month, we’ve partnered with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center in Shelby, North Carolina, to bring you an exclusive look inside their collection and archives at photos of Scruggs and Watson together. The Center’s executive director, Mary Beth Martin, pulled a selection of historic photos from the collection as well as a handwritten quote directly from Scruggs’ notes about Watson and his influence:

“There are two people’s sound no man can, in my estimation, duplicate,” Earl states in a notebook. “Of course I’m referring to Mama Maybelle and Doc Watson. I’ve had the pleasure to work [with] and visit these people. I will never cease to admire the courage of these people.”

You can certainly hear the impact and influence of Watson and Maybelle Carter on Scruggs’ playing, especially his approach to acoustic guitar, when he would most often fingerpick the six-string.

“Earl had enormous respect for Doc and admired him deeply,” says Martin of the Earl Scruggs Center via email. “Both grew up in humble North Carolina homes surrounded by rich musical traditions and went on to leave an incredible mark on music. Having Earl’s personal memories and photos of Doc in our collection makes their connection feel especially meaningful.”

Over the course of their careers in roots music, Scruggs and Watson performed, collaborated, and recorded together dozens and dozens of times. We’re very proud to be able to share these photographs from the Earl Scruggs Center Collection to celebrate the cross-pollination of these two Bluegrass Hall of Famers and Doc in December.

The Earl Scruggs Center is located in downtown Shelby, North Carolina, and celebrates the life, legacy, and groundbreaking sound of Earl Scruggs. Their collection includes many treasured Scruggs family objects and remarkable pieces from Earl’s career – including more than 2,000 photographs. In January, they’ll install new interactive exhibits that dig deep into the roots of the region’s music and the history of bluegrass. The entire ESC team is excited to welcome everyone back to the museum when they reopen on February 3, 2026, after renovations and completion of the new exhibits.

Beyond the museum, the Earl Scruggs Center team are also restoring the Earl Scruggs Homeplace in the Flint Hill community of Cleveland County, bringing Earl’s childhood home back to the formative era that shaped him as a musician.

To stay in the loop and to catch upcoming Earl Scruggs Center events like the Earl Experience Banjo Camp, visit their website and connect with them on socials. We hope you enjoy our special photo story with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center celebrating Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Doc in December.


All photos courtesy of the Earl Scruggs Center Collection. Lead image: Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Ricky Skaggs backstage at the taping for The Three Pickers.

The Five Pillars of Doc Watson’s Legacy

What a difference a Doc made.

Lots of people would like to think their lives have made a difference – whether through their family life, or work, or some sort of creative endeavor.

However, even to approach the enduring heritage of the great musician Arthel “Doc” Watson, a person would have to achieve lifetime landmarks as imposing as the North Carolina Appalachian mountains that were his home. During a lifespan from his birth in 1923 until his death in 2012, Watson created a legacy of music, folklore, and goodwill that no one has entirely equaled.

First a little background: Arthel Lane Watson was born March 3, 1923, near Deep Gap – he is not from Asheville – in Western North Carolina. An audience member suggested the nickname “Doc” when his given name was found less than compelling for an entertainer.

His life story before and after becoming an admired folk musician has been often told, notably in Doc Watson: A Life in Music, a 2025 biography by Eddie Huffman published by the University of North Carolina Press.

Blind since infancy, Watson started to develop life skills and musical ability from an early age. He learned both formal and popular styles when sent to the state’s school for the blind in Raleigh at about age 10.

The boy was consumed by music and persistent in getting better at it. Watson had learned both the rudiments of harmonica and a few banjo tunes from his father, General Watson, before he went off to Raleigh. While living within the strict environment of the school for the blind, Watson learned braille and grew familiar with classical and church styles of music taught there. Perhaps as strong an influence as that education was fellow student Paul Montgomery, the talented friend from whom he learned guitar chords. Young Watson and Montgomery, later a well-known Raleigh pianist and children’s show host, shared enthusiasm for the popular music of the day, including jazz and big-band sounds.

His parents, Annie and General Watson, taught the boy skills of growing crops and basic carpentry, and he contributed to the family despite his blindness.

After years of mostly local performances back in Western North Carolina, it wasn’t until the early 1960s, when East Coast musician and historian Ralph Rinzler tuned into and promoted his far-reaching ability as a singer and picker, that Watson’s name gained national, then international attention.

According to an account at the Blue Ridge Heritage Area website Watson recorded over 50 albums and was honored with “the National Medal of Arts, a National Heritage Fellowship, the North Carolina Folk Heritage Award, seven GRAMMY Awards, and a GRAMMY Lifetime Achievement Award.”

As fans know, Doc Watson contained multitudes of skills, a breadth of ability that inspired this list of the five pillars of his musical and artistic legacy.

The King Flatpicker

Watson largely created the challenging fiddle-inspired guitar style that led many followers along a flatpicking trail.

It was during the 1950s, when playing an electric Gibson Les Paul in the local Jack Williams Band, that Watson developed a style that would transform the way the guitar was played in folk and bluegrass music.

Generally, earlier acoustic guitarists in roots-derived styles used a flatpick to create basic “boom-chuck” back up, perhaps throwing in some fills and Jimmie-Rodgers-style bass runs.

But when dancers at Williams’s gigs wanted music for square-dancing, Watson worked up single-note versions of fast fiddle tunes such as “June Apple” and “Bill Cheatham” on his Les Paul. This approach enables lead guitar pickers to achieve the same flowing, rapid attack that fiddlers used for tunes, many of which had come over from the British Isles in past generations.

It’s not possible to say that Doc Watson was the first guitarist to flatpick fiddle tunes. After all, it wasn’t until Watson emerged as a folk artist in the 1960s that the broader music scene caught on to his musicianship. And high achievers such as Arthur Smith on “Guitar Boogie,” Don Reno on “Country Boy Rock ‘n’ Roll,” and Bill Napier on the Stanley Brothers’ “Mountain Dew” – along with some jazz and blues players – all recorded hot-licks acoustic soloing before Watson did. Joe Maphis was also cranking out ultra-fast flatpicking numbers in the 1950s.

But it was Watson’s 1960s performances that created a precedent for a wave of guitarists who had to muscle up to the speed and dexterity he displayed.

A long line of guitarists at the top of the field – from Clarence White to Tony Rice, from Bryan Sutton to Billy Strings – all show Watson’s clear influence not just in recreating fiddle tunes, but also in rapid-fire picking and clean sound on a broad range of material.

Player and educator Alan Barnosky wrote in “An Exploration of Doc Watson’s Innovative and Joyful Guitar Stylings” for Acoustic Guitar in 2023 about the spread of this kind of playing.

“Watson amazed folk fans in the early 1960s by taking tunes typically reserved for the fiddle and reworking them for the acoustic with speed, clarity, and flash,” he wrote. “He never claimed to be the first to play fiddle tunes on a guitar, but for the majority of listeners at the time it was an entirely novel and groundbreaking approach.”

Another world-class, tradition-based player, Earl Scruggs, praised Watson’s adaptation of fiddle tunes as the two were joined by Ricky Skaggs for the 2003 The Three Pickers performance and album.

“He was the first man I ever heard on the guitar that was fooling with tunes like that,” Scruggs said in a Three Pickers introduction. “You had all these good G-C-D pickers – that’s chord positions – but I had never heard anybody that actually took over a lead like a banjo or a fiddle or a mandolin and do those tunes. He could do it.

“And what amazed me about Doc Watson’s picking, and still does, is he’s got that – I call it ‘mountain sound’ to his picking, and he’s one of the best to keep it in that mode of sound.”

New generations of players have immersed themselves in Watson’s style. When I interviewed him for a Bluegrass Unlimited article, leading guitar picker and multi-instrumentalist Bryan Sutton talked about being captivated by Watson’s playing during Sutton’s youth on Western North Carolina.

“Doc and Dan Crary were the first great influences on me,” he said. “Doc Watson was one of the first professional musicians/guitar players that I ever saw. He doesn’t live too far from Asheville, so I saw him play some different festivals and at Maggie Valley. So, he was the first one to really catch my ear as far as what you could do with the flatpick.

“My right hand – it may not as much anymore – but I remember at one time it was kind of like Doc’s. It’s kind of like the way Sam Bush plays, using the whole forearm and wrist involved in the playing, whereas with jazz players or Tony Rice it’s more of a wrist thing. I think I’ve got a little bit of both now.”

Billy Strings, the artist who’s likely doing the most to promote Watson’s legacy in the 21st century, sounded almost evangelical during a September 2025 interview for NPR’s Fresh Air.

“He’s like the ground upon which I stand, you know?” Strings said. “My dad played his music all around the house growing up. And by the time I could play guitar, you know, 5, 6 years old, I was learning those tunes, too. I might’ve been able to play some of them before I knew how to tie my shoes or something, you know?

“It was like, I was learning how to speak and talk and walk, and I was learning all these Doc Watson tunes at the same time. And it was just, like, a religion in my house, you know? His music is just – it’s the best.”

To see some of the top pickers in the field paying tribute, check out this video shot at the Merle Watson Memorial Festival – what would become MerleFest – in Wilkesboro, North Carolina, in 1992.

A Model Fingerpicker

From his first albums on, Watson regularly also played guitar with a thumbpick and index finger. As he noted with his customary self-deprecating humor in the DVD “Doc’s Guitar: Fingerpicking & Flatpicking,” “See, I just play with one finger and a thumb. I don’t use the sensible three-finger method that you should use on finger-style guitar.” (Watch below.)

Watson sounded great with that approach, making finger-picked tunes such as “Deep River Blues,” “Nashville Blues,” “Omie Wise,” and “Doc’s Guitar” fan favorites and objects of long study. For every striving guitarist who practiced hard on his fiddle-tune adaptations, plenty of pickers also worked on showcases such as “Windy and Warm,” with its alternating bass, pull-offs, note bending, and a jazzy minor sixth chord at its conclusion.

Watson’s fingerpicking often showed off his acquaintance with diverse approaches, as in “Deep River Blues,” with an E diminished as its second chord. It also illustrates the way he put his touch on existing pieces such as 1933’s “Big River Blues” by the Delmore Brothers, who played with flatpicks.

“There were two guitars, a tenor – a little four-string, and the regular flattop, and I never could get my guitar to sound like both of theirs did,” Watson said. “Then I began to hear brother Merle Travis, the late Merle Travis, on the radio. And I thought, Now, wait a minute. If I can steal me a lick off brother Travis, maybe I can learn ‘Deep River Blues.’”

Multi-talented Kentuckian Merle Travis (1917-1983) popularized a style in which the thumb plays an alternating bass on the guitar’s lower strings while picking the melody on treble strings. Watson also studied the work of the great guitarist Chet Atkins. The picking buddies released the album Reflections in 1980.

The centuries-old, transatlantic ballad “Georgie” would have once been sung unaccompanied, leaving Watson and others free to craft a brand new style of guitar back up. With no clear precedent on guitar, he might employ the flowing, almost classical patterns that became popular among folk revivalists.

And fingerpicking became the tool Watson used to play the blues that he loved and drew on so deeply, music he followed from the time he heard Mississippi John Hurt on the family’s disc player in childhood.

In the end, there’s no easy way to pin down the many elements Watson brought to his picking, musical points of view that enriched his listeners along the way.

A Standout Singer

Doc Watson’s vocal abilities don’t generally get as much attention as his top-drawer chops as an instrumentalist. However, he was also a tuneful singer with a natural, angelic mountain baritone.

Watson came along during an era when rougher-voiced vocalists such as Hobart Smith, Dock Boggs, and his picking buddy Clarence Ashley represented mountain singing to a growing audience. And Watson’s less mannered style likely contributed to acceptance among listeners less familiar with the high lonesome sound. His direct vocal approach was often heard in performances with no instrumental backing.

It’s useful to remember that Watson also enjoyed the smooth country vocalist Eddy Arnold so much that his son Merle Eddy Arnold was named not just after fingerpicker Merle Travis, but also for Arnold.

Tunes from the Tennessee Plowboy’s repertoire such as “Tennessee Stud,” “I Couldn’t Believe It Was True,” and “Anytime” also showed up in Watson’s repertoire. These were only a few examples of the eclectic side of Watson’s vocal approach, with emphasis on great material over genre labels.

Given his broad taste, Watson at times put some extra grit into his singing on a number such as “Blue Suede Shoes” from his Jack Williams days of the 1950s, later a concert favorite. But more often he sang songs straight, even on one like “Nights in White Satin,” a 1967 pop hit by British rockers the Moody Blues. With waltz-time guitar and plain singing, Watson makes the song come across as relevant to himself and listeners as songs by the Delmore Brothers and Jimmie Rodgers.

Watson’s first memories of vocal music came in church, and he prized the straightforward, no-vibrato sounds that carved such songs in his memory.

“If you love music, you have to listen from the time you’re big enough to notice music,” he told me when recording his 1991 GRAMMY-winning CD On Praying Ground.

“If you’re looking for old-time material in songs, those old songs that you heard when you were young were the easiest to put down.”

From his first commercial recordings on, Watson featured gospel numbers such as the a cappella version of “Talk About Suffering” from 1964 and “Down in the Valley to Pray” from 1966. Both radiate belief and unornamented clarity.

More recent listeners may know the latter song as “Down in the River to Pray,” as it was opportunistically relabeled to match a scene in the 2000 hit film, O Brother, Where Art Thou?.

Always A Song Man

Doc Watson had an impressively broad range of musical interests, perhaps markedly so, given the period in which he came along.

Country or folk music didn’t start appearing on commercial records until Watson was about two years old. In childhood he listened to down-home picking as well as church and gospel songs. It wasn’t until the 1930s that the family owned a radio that let them hear music beyond their 78-rpm record collection.

Virtually every great musician is a song collector at heart. And like Bob Dylan, Watson took on songs from tradition and added new elements. Take the mournful ballad “Omie Wise,” based on a North Carolina murder from the early 19th century.

In the 1920s notable old-time artists G.B. Grayson and Clarence Ashley recorded it with modal accompaniment that was neither truly major nor minor. When Watson recorded in the 1960s, he ventured into folky, arpeggiated picking that put it squarely into minor-chord territory, opening up the song to young folkies who couldn’t play fiddle like Grayson or banjo like Ashley.

In fact, Watson’s playing on “Omie Wise” occupied the same guitar realm as folk star Joan Baez’s playing on “East Virginia” and other traditional songs.

 

He also tuned into compositions by folk musicians Bob Dylan (“Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right), Tom Paxton (“The Last Thing on My Mind,” “Leavin’ London,” and “Bottle of Wine”), and Townes Van Zandt (“If I Needed You”).

Watson isn’t chiefly known as a songwriter, but he enjoyed notable success with “Your Lone Journey,” which he wrote with wife Rosa Lee. The starry duo of Led Zeppelin frontman Robert Plant and bluegrass’s own Alison Krauss released it as “Your Long Journey,” leading to what biographer Huffman called significant royalties for the family.

Watson’s greatest legacy in songs may have come with the wealth of lasting favorites – just a few are “Deep River Blues,” “I Am a Pilgrim,” “Banks of the Ohio,” “House Carpenter,” and “Shady Grove” – that made their way into the folk, old-time and bluegrass repertoire and could otherwise have been forgotten.

Ambassador for the Old-Time Way

This role for Watson may be the hardest to pin down, as it overlaps with almost all the others. By cleaving to his Appalachian heritage while also making the most of decades of change, Doc Watson was able to introduce countless fans to a rich, living culture.

“I don’t live in the past,” Watson told me in 1991. “I still burn wood in a furnace at the house, but I have heat ducts and a blower on it just like an oil furnace.

“I love to burn wood and I love to split wood. There’s a few of the old-timey things I love to do. I like good dried-apple pie and I like ‘leather britches’ beans.

“And I like to be at home, dadburn it. I hate the road.”

Watson’s long career of traveling to take his music to listeners, often in the company of his beloved son, Merle, nourished their taste for music that he built upon sold timbers of musical tradition.

Wade Smith, a legendary Tar Heel lawyer, told me once about his first experience of hearing Watson, at a small coffeehouse in downtown Raleigh in 1965.

“What word would I choose to describe how I felt?” Smith said for a later Raleigh News & Observer story. “Electrified, stunned at the speed of his fingers and the way he played single strings, and the clarity of the sound. Each note was like a piece of gold, so amazing.

“We stayed to the last note. When we left, I remember thinking that I had never heard anything like it and that in some way I had been changed by it, that I was in an altered state of existence.”

Watson’s national and international impact becomes more impressive given that he wasn’t heard outside his North Carolina stomping grounds until his late 30s. That’s when he honed his broad range of expertise into a mountain-based style that captivated and often amazed listeners at first hearing.

When the Society for American Music, a distinguished non-profit scholarly and educational organization, made Watson an honorary member in 2012, musicologist and musician Greg Reish paid tribute to Watson’s broad impact.

“As I discovered more of America’s traditional musical styles through my teenage years, Doc Watson always seemed to be at the core, an entrée into both older and newer styles,” Reish wrote. “Through Doc’s music I found my way to the pre-war music of the Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers, and the Skillet Lickers; to the first-generation bluegrass of Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs; to the classic country of Merle Travis, Chet Atkins, and Eddy Arnold; to the country blues of John Hurt and Frank Hutchison; and to the contemporary and progressive flatpicking of Clarence White, Norman Blake, and Tony Rice.”

Huffman’s book quotes the great bluegrass musician Roland White as he talked about the way his guitarist brother Clarence was caught up in Watson’s flatpicking after hearing him at California’s Ash Grove club.

“After seeing Doc, his picking became an obsession, an everyday part of everyday life. To play music and practice every day. Whether we played gigs or not, he was always playing music.”

Sixty years after White’s epiphany, Doc Watson’s music continues to gain and inspire new followers, whether through the picking and testimony of contemporary players such as Sutton and Springs, or through his own dozens of albums and videos. His legacy of tradition and innovation still flows like one of the ancient streams that nourish his cherished mountainsides.


Thomas Goldsmith is an award-winning journalist based in Tennessee and North Carolina. In addition to producing many hundreds of articles for newspapers and magazines, he edited The Bluegrass Reader and authored Earl Scruggs and Foggy Mountain Breakdown: The Making of an American Classic, both for the University of Illinois Press.

Lead image courtesy of MerleFest.

Explore more of our Doc in December Artist of the Month series here.

Artist of the Month:
Doc in December

For the past few years, as the music industry goes quiet, spooling itself down for a two-week sleep over the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, the team here at BGS has taken the opportunity to utilize December to spotlight a few of our heroes. We began the series with Dylan in December in 2018 and followed up the success of that nontraditional “Artist of the Month” pick in following years with Dolly in December, Del in December, Dawg in December, and last year’s incredibly popular Dead in December.

What better way to spend a cozy, holiday-filled, wintry month than celebrating some of the legends – artists, songwriters, musicians, and bands – that have made our roots music scene what it is today? This year, it’s clear who our December Artist of the Month should be: “Doc” Arthel Watson, himself.

Born in Deep Gap, North Carolina, in the heart of Appalachia in 1923, Doc Watson started playing guitar – and other instruments, too – as a child. Doc lost his vision in his youth, but would go on to become one of the most important American guitarists in history even with his disability. His position in modern roots music, especially in bluegrass, old-time, and folk, is canon. He is a legend to any and all, from the diehard lifelong acolytes to the recently initiated neonates. He’s one of our Americana music figures who tends to get lost, like the forest for its trees, within his own ubiquity and universal adoration. But no matter from which angle you drill down into his career, discography, artistry, and legacy there’s always more to find. To explore. And to enjoy, of course.

Over the course of December, we’ll be doing just that. Our writers and contributors will offer new articles considering Doc’s songs and output and his career as an American guitar hero. And, how even after his passing in 2012, he continues to be a definitional stylist on flat-top, flatpicked guitar. But don’t sell him short, either. Though most known for his fiddle tunes, folk songs, and old-time and bluegrass licks, Watson was accomplished in many genres across the roots continuum; he dabbled in and conquered sounds from hillbilly and rockabilly, electric guitars, blues, ragtime, fingerstyle, chicken pickin’, and more. He collaborated with artists from well within his own circle and far outside it – sonically, socially, and geographically. Watson was incredibly dynamic, a characteristic that has contributed greatly to his lasting, ongoing appeal.

We will also be dipping back into our BGS archives to share past features, playlists, and articles about Doc, and his son Merle; about his festival MerleFest, which continues to this day; and about the albums and offerings celebrating the 100th anniversary of his birth that were released in 2023. Truthfully, there’s nearly an endless supply of BGS content that touches on, focuses on, or mentions Doc. Because of course there is – these genres we all love and hold dear wouldn’t be what they are today without him.

You also won’t want to miss perhaps the most exciting aspect of our Doc in December Artist of the Month celebration. In 2023, BGS was invited to Bryan Sutton’s Blue Ridge Guitar Camp in Brevard, North Carolina. Sutton, alongside his friend and peer Billy Strings, is one of the most prominent proselytizers for Watson in the 21st century, so it’s no surprise his annual camp just up the mountains from Watson’s hometown of Deep Gap is usually dripping with Doc’s music.

That year, one of Doc’s most famous guitars, “Ol’ Hoss” – a 1968 G-50 Gallagher Guitar Watson played in the late ’60s and early ’70s and on many recordings – was also at the Blue Ridge Guitar Camp. The instrument was one of the first of a few Gallaghers that Doc owned. BGS made the trip to Brevard to capture special video performances and interviews with many of the event’s instructors and pickers, each of whom played Doc tunes and shared stories and memories while picking Ol’ Hoss. It was a magical week in the mountains. Now, for the very first time, we’re making select songs from these tapings available in a new series, the Ol’ Hoss Sessions. Three sessions pulled from the shoot celebrates Doc in December and features Bryan Sutton, Courtney Hartman, and will also feature Billy Strings. Stay tuned as we share those videos right here on BGS and on our YouTube channel throughout the month.

It’s not that Doc Watson is underappreciated or underrated, or that he needs any of the visibility that being a BGS Artist of the Month might afford. In our neck of the woods, seemingly everyone knows and loves Doc Watson already. But with so many folks and institutions shouting Watson’s praises from the rooftops lately – artists like Sutton, Strings, and a host of guitar pickers and roots musicians from across our community and scene; the folks who put on and attend MerleFest; the communities of Boone and Deep Gap, North Carolina; projects like I Am a Pilgrim: Doc Watson at 100 – it’s clear there’s always more to learn, love, and enjoy about Arthel Lane Watson.

Get started with Doc in December with our Essential Doc Watson Playlist, below. Plus, follow along right here on BGS and on social media as we share Doc Watson content throughout the month. We’ll have a new feature on Watson’s status as American guitar hero, and you can see our YouTube playlist of his incredible musical collaborations here. Plus, of course, our very special Ol’ Hoss Sessions, exclusively available right here on the Bluegrass Situation. (Watch Bryan Sutton here. Watch Courtney Hartman here.) Plus, we’ll be combing through the BGS archives for everything Doc Watson for y’all to enjoy. Buckle up for a mighty month of guitar pickin’ glory, it’s Doc in December!


Lead image courtesy of MerleFest.

BGS 5+5: Bryan McDowell

Artist: Bryan McDowell
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland
Latest Album: Bryan McDowell (out November 7, 2025)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Red

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Literature, and particularly the novel form, is where I’ve gotten more and more inspiration. I appreciate lessons in a sort of general creative craft that I’ve found by understanding, for example, painters’ processes, but I think since I’ve worked increasingly with lyrics, I’ve turned more to some classic novels for inspo. Some of the newer unreleased songs are from that source, like this laid-back song I have that draws on Crime and Punishment, the first psychological thriller I think it is. The entirety of the book is the suspense and mental anguish of knowing a person who’s committed a terrible crime and is momentarily suspended from actual accountability for it. They’re just tortured to illness by their thoughts. As it turns out, that suspension of accountability is gripping. At least, I think so. What we do in those moments or what we think we would do or think is worth a bit more exploration.

Most songs aren’t quite so directly inspired by another particular work as this, but I know I’ve often taken songs I had that seem unfocused and I’ll back up and try to imagine a central character and maybe even plot out a bit of a storyline, thinking about the main conflict. When I do that, I think I’m always trying to conjure up some feeling of a subtle and human and well-developed character in a book. A novel does this thing of pulling you in close to a character by sustained familiarity and rich development. And a good song might do something similar, it’s just that maybe it’s presented as more of a puzzle box using all kinds of literary devices, meaning-laden language, and rhythm, etc. But if it’s like a puzzle box, then you as the writer still have to be intimate with the characters so that you can unfold them with precision. You have to have everything in its right place.

What’s your favorite memory of being on stage ?

The first year I started touring back in 2012, I was playing with the Claire Lynch Band at MerleFest. I think we had a mainstage afternoon set on Saturday, maybe. Russ Jordan was there and all the usual Wilkesboro crew and there was a decent crowd out in the old Lowe’s lawn chairs. So we finished our set and I walked off and was striking the stage for the next act, which was the Tony Rice Unit. Well at some point I start hearing rumblings that Tony didn’t have a fiddler with him. He had planned on getting king Stu [Stuart Duncan] over for the set, but MerleFest had booked the Nashville Bluegrass Band on like the Creekside Stage opposite Tony’s mainstage set. As it turned out, all the names of great fiddlers being thrown around were over there watching Stu, of course.

Anyway, I was there at the mainstage. Right place, right time. He didn’t know me from Adam, but Tony’s bass player was bending his ear giving me a good recommendation, because he was also the bass player for the Claire Lynch Band. Tony got up there and did the whole line check with the band and walked backstage as if they would play the set as a four-piece, but Mark Schatz must’ve been selling me hard, because five minutes before set time he pulls me back to their little green room and Tony walks up and sticks out his hand and says in his kind of broken-up voice, “How would you like to be a member of the Unit?” He seemed really frail even then and I remember consciously kind of being careful shaking his hand. I got up and did a quick mic check and the tech put a wash of the band in the monitors. Russ announced the Unit and I walked up and played the set with my stomach in my throat and looking fresh off the turnip truck.

I really hope Tony enjoyed it, or at least that he didn’t mind me much over there. He seemed to be having a good time, anyway. It’s the only time I ever got to play with or even speak with him, but his albums were probably the single biggest influence on my musicianship. I was going to Rice Unit concerts before I was born and had played his tapes until the pitch was all messed up and then switched to CDs and played them until they were all scratched to hell – and on and on. Sometime later I found out that Sierra Hull had decided to hire me based on that set with Tony (she was listening out in the VIP section) and then as a result I think I ended up getting a lot of good work with people down the road. I’ve had a lot of good memories on stage now and been able to sit in with many of my heroes, but that one still stands out.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do they impact your work?

I got really into section hiking during and before COVID, when I was back in Carolina and I ended up doing some of the Appalachian Trail up in Pennsylvania. At one point I could’ve walked out my front door and a mile up the road was a hundred miles of trails I could link up with that eventually led up to Mount Mitchell, the tallest peak east of the Mississippi. Such a great use of a week or weekend. Woods, mountains, and the quiet are my home. I hear the sweet decomposing forest floor smell is particularly good for mental health.

It doesn’t take long walking like that before everything I should be doing just falls into place. Musically, in life, with people. It all works itself out. I have an important line of a song come to me or a new crooked fiddle tune just falls out. There’s an old-timey tune I haven’t named yet that came to me like that. I think we all have much better versions of ourselves – our more authentic selves – that come back rising up once we get out from under the weight of these daily intrusions.

The sociologist Habermas called it a “colonization of the life world,” crept up slowly over the last 100 years with all the markets reaching their tendrils into our daily lives, encroaching on the time that we have to just be human and experience the world without dealing with being persuaded by something or someone. Going to the woods for me is just a remembering of yourself as a person and who you are in the world, which is the thing I think that modernity would like us most to forget.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

I’m a big fan of Wayne Shorter’s Witch Hunt. I used to listen to that album incessantly back in the day. He’s one of my favorite musicians, generally, but there was some strange and good voodoo happening with the crew on that recording. Everyone was at their most tasteful. That music was greater than the sum of its parts, and the sum of its parts is no small sum if you look at the album personnel. Great writing, great playing.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

If I didn’t work in music, I’d own a boutique cheese curds shop that’s word of mouth only and hard to find. I’d call it the Squeakeasy. Just need backers.


Photo Credit: Margarita Photography

Dierks Bentley Shines with Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes on CMA Awards

A big night for country music ended up being a big night for bluegrass as well when Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes joined country star Dierks Bentley on the CMA Awards stage for a show-stopping performance. The quartet, backed by Bentley’s band (including the evening’s winner of Musician of the Year, Charlie Worsham) played a rousing rendition of Tom Petty’s “American Girl,” a huge single for Bentley this year from the compilation album, Petty Country.

Bentley has released plenty of ‘grassy and string band tracks across his career, especially on his 2010 album Up on the Ridge, and he is close friends with many bluegrass musicians and legends. He used to haunt the World Famous Station Inn in Nashville well before his fame and recognition – and well after, too. He’s even gifted commemorative hit records to the bar (which still hang on the walls today) and he’s appeared at the divey listening room dozens of times. He’s also a friend of the McCoury family and has collaborated with Del and sons on multiple occasions. In addition, he’s brought Tuttle and her band Golden Highway out on the road as an opening act repeatedly, and he guested on Keith-Hynes’ now GRAMMY-nominated album, I Built a World.

Tuttle even shared an image to social media from a past MerleFest where Bentley can be seen braving the North Carolina rain to catch her band’s mainstage set in the very front row of the VIP section. It’s no surprise that he would tap Hull, Tuttle, and Keith-Hynes for the CMA Awards, even if the context feels a bit out-of-left-field for diehard bluegrassers.

“American Girl” was truly a highlight of the star-studded awards show, which despite more than a few perceived flubs and snubs highlighted plenty of Good Country, Americana, roots music – and yes, bluegrass! Here’s to plenty more primetime television moments in the future highlighting incredible bluegrass pickers such as these.


 

Doc Watson’s Musical Legacy Still Inspires

Doc Watson has been gone for more than a decade, and yet his music and legacy remain more alive and relevant than ever. And thanks to the ongoing MerleFest, which brings a wide-ranging cast from the Americana world to Doc’s North Carolina stomping grounds every April, that’s not going to change anytime soon. We consider the enduring impact of Doc through conversations with some of those who bear his stamp, including Gillian Welch and Jerry Douglas, in this special episode of Carolina Calling.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • YOUTUBEMP3
 

Subscribe to Carolina Calling on any and all podcast platforms to follow along as we journey across the Old North State, visiting towns like Durham, Asheville, Shelby, Greensboro, and more.


Music featured in this episode:

Doc Watson – “Sittin’ on Top of the World”
Doc & Merle Watson – “Jimmy’s Texas Blues”
Gillian Welch – “Everything Is Free”
Andrew Marlin – “Erie Fidler”
Doc Watson – “Tom Dooley”
Doc & Merle Watson – “Sheeps In The Meadow / Stoney Fork”
Doc & Merle Watson – “Poor Boy Blues”
Doc Watson – “And Am I Born to Die”
Doc Watson – “My Home’s Across the Blue Ridge Mountains”
Jerry Douglas – “A New Day Medley”
Doc Watson – “The Last Thing On My Mind”


Photo of Doc Watson courtesy of MerleFest

WATCH: Jim Lauderdale & the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, “Drop the Hammer Down”

Artist: Jim Lauderdale and The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys
Song: “Drop the Hammer Down”
Album: The Long and Lonesome Letting Go
Release Date: September 15, 2023
Label: Sky Crunch

In Their Words: “The first place I heard The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys and got to sit in with them was at MerleFest a few years back.  Now we have come full circle with an album together and a song that Josh Rinkel and I wrote called ‘Drop the Hammer Down.’ Here is the first time we performed it, last spring at MerleFest.” – Jim Lauderdale


Photo Credit: Jim Lauderdale by Scott Simontacchi; the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys by Amy Richmond.

Young Mandolinist Wyatt Ellis Collaborates with Sierra Hull

At only 14 years old, mandolinist Wyatt Ellis is a sight to behold in the official music video for “Grassy Cove.” The tune was co-written with the superbly talented Sierra Hull and recorded as part of a larger project that’s coming out at a later date. “Grassy Cove” came about after Ellis completed a Tennessee Folklife apprenticeship with Hull. Its music video was filmed at the Station Inn in Nashville, TN – with Cory Walker on banjo, Deanie Richardson on fiddle, Justin Moses on guitar, and Mike Bub on bass – and debuted only days ago.

Ellis made his Grand Ole Opry debut at just 13 years old. He also performed at MerleFest this year and has nearly 100,000 followers on social media across his combined pages, so keep your eyes on this rising star!


 

Doc Watson at 100: His Influence Lives On Through MerleFest, New Tribute Album

This year’s MerleFest, slated for April 27-30 at Wilkes Community College in Doc Watson’s old North Carolina stomping grounds, falls during what would have been the great man’s centennial year. Watson was born 100 years ago this past March in the tiny crossroads of Deep Gap, where he resided for his entire life. But even though Watson himself has been gone for more than a decade, since his passing in May of 2012, his presence is still very much felt at the festival he launched in memory of his late son Merle Watson way back in 1988.

“The first MerleFest I went back to after Doc’s passing, he was bigger than life to me,” says legendary resonator guitarist Jerry Douglas, a MerleFest perennial who has played there almost every year and is on this year’s schedule as well. “Everywhere I looked, I saw Doc in some way and I heard him onstage all the time. He was just ever-present. Not seeing and hearing him made me really want to see and hear him again. Him not being there is still a huge hole for me. It hurts. But even if he’s not there physically, he’s there spiritually. I think the festival survives and is what it is because of Doc Watson, not because of who comes to play there.”

If MerleFest’s ongoing popularity remains the most visible manifestation of Doc Watson’s enduring influence, it is far from the only one. Watson was blind from the age of 1 and became a professional musician for the most practical of reasons, that it was one of the few ways he could make a living. And being sightless hardly slowed Watson down at all. Discovered by folklorist Ralph Rinzler in the waning years of America’s pre-Beatlemania folk revival, Watson was a flat-picking guitarist of such speed and precision that he remains a major touchstone to this day. From Molly Tuttle and Billy Strings on down, just about every notable guitar player in the contemporary folk and bluegrass cosmos still bears his stamp as a touchstone.

“Doc led the way,” says Douglas. “He plowed the ground, sewed the seeds and he’s responsible for all the guitar players out there now playing Tony Rice-style guitar. Doc is the acoustic guitar star.”

But Doc’s far-ranging influence goes well beyond just folk and bluegrass. Exhibit A to that effect would be I Am a Pilgrim: Doc Watson at 100 (FLi Records/Budde Music), a multi-artist tribute compilation released around the time of Watson’s birthday last month. I Am a Pilgrim has contributions from a lot of the artists you’d expect covering songs associated with Watson, starting with Douglas in the first-track pole position with “Shady Grove.” Also present are Dolly Parton with the Tom Paxton composition “The Last Thing on My Mind,” Steve Earle rambling through Mississippi John Hurt’s “Make Me a Pallet,” Rosanne Cash singing a lovely version of the title track, Watson’s longtime accompanist Jack Lawrence picking “Florida Blues” and Punch Brothers guitarist Chris Eldridge giving “Little Sadie” a soulful turn.

The album includes a fair amount of less likely contributors, too, including the American bluesman Corey Harris, West African guitarist Lionel Loueke, Tom Waits sideman Marc Ribot and electric slide guitarist Ariel Posen. The latter gives the old standard “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” a sacred steel feel that would be perfect for the Sunday morning gospel set that Watson used to lead at MerleFest every year.

Perhaps no musician’s presence on I Am a Pilgrim is more unexpected than Bill Frisell, a guitarist primarily known for an avant garde strain of atmospheric jazz. John Zorn is one of his regular longtime collaborators, and Frisell never met or played with Watson. But even though he himself admits he’s not the first musician you’d think of in regards to Watson, Frisell makes for an intriguing wild card on this album, the lone artist appearing on multiple tracks. He accompanies the Tennessee singer/songwriter Valerie June on “Handsome Molly,” adding some six-string sonic fairy dust to the arrangement. And he closes the album with a lovely solo instrumental rendition of the Doc/Rosa Lee Watson co-write, “Your Lone Journey.”

“For me, Doc Watson has been important even though there’s quite a few steps removed from him to me,” says Frisell. “He had extraordinary command and technique. But what attracted me the most was his spirit and the feeling that it came from such a deep, spiritual place. I’m inspired by people who find their own way. He’s the root of the tree and invented this whole world, took what was around him and made it his own. People I look up to – Thelonious Monk, John Cage, Bach, Doc Watson – somehow look through a different lens, find things the rest of us don’t see and show it to us with clarity. It inspires you to try to do something good, too.”

Almost as important as how Watson played guitar was the way he carried himself in his interactions with others, offstage as well as on. Pretty much everybody who knew Watson still sings his praises as someone who had exactly the right attitude about all the hosannas that came his way over the years. Winning seven Grammy Awards, the National Medal of Arts and countless other awards did not seem to change his outlook one bit. When the town of Boone commissioned a sculpture of Watson toward the end of his life, the only way he agreed to cooperate was if the city called it “Just one of the people.” It occupies a bench on King Street in Boone, near where Watson began his career busking for change.

“Doc was a humble man,” says B. Townes, Watson’s MerleFest co-founder. “He never met a stranger and, in his own words, he was not a star, just a person. Not only was he the legendary award-winning flatpicking guitarist, he had a warm welcoming way with people, no matter who you were. To me, he was a father type. He was my ears to the music. I guess I was his eyes to what a festival might be. Doc’s spirit is certainly still with us at every MerleFest. So many artists when they’re onstage will bring up memories of Doc. That helps keep the spirit alive.”

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by MerleFest (@merlefest)

MerleFest has always been billed as “traditional plus,” meaning traditional music plus every other style Watson was interested in – everything, in other words. This year’s lineup offers the usual impeccable mix of old and new artists bearing his stamp, from Country Music Hall of Famer Tanya Tucker to modern-day hitmaker Maren Morris. There’s also classic rock with Little Feat and Chris Robinson’s Brothers of a Feather, and the classically influenced bluegrass of Kruger Brothers. Along with latterday keepers of the flame Josh Goforth and Presley Barker, MerleFest 2023 has the return of the Avett Brothers, who launched their career at the festival in 2004. And most all the usual suspects will be there, too, regulars like Sam Bush, Peter Rowan, Roy Book Binder and Douglas.

“MerleFest is the first place we all gather every year,” says Douglas. “It’s in the right place at the right time – in North Carolina, the cradle of bluegrass civilization as we know it. Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, Don Reno, Bobby Hicks, all these great musicians who drank the water and became great musicians because of where they came from.”


Top photo courtesy of the Doc Watson Archive. Pictured (L-R) Stuart Duncan, Bela Fleck, David Grisman, Jerry Douglas, Jack Lawrence, and Doc Watson