Tag: Old-time

Ross Holmes, “Overture”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

An instrument as agèd, storied, and established as the violin — henceforth in this piece obstinately referred to as “fiddle” — carries with it vestiges and artifacts of its own history into any/all of its new musical forays. It’s one of the most charming qualities of the instrument, that whether a rosin-laden bow grinds and saws against the strings or whether it floats, gently ringing an intransigent harmonic, a fiddle is still a fiddle. It is the sum of its disparate parts. 

Many virtuosos, hobbyists, and career musicians have staked their entire artistic worldviews on the paradoxes contained within the instrument. We in roots music quite often enjoy the musical aftereffects, songs and compositions that gleefully train magnifying glasses on paradigms such as classical versus jazz, old-time tunes versus minuets and cadenzas, or perhaps a chamber orchestra versus a square dance band. Ross Holmes, a session player, composer, and fiddler (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Mumford & Sons), counts himself among the violinist vanguard tinkering with the existential building blocks of the violin fiddle – a tradition and subculture he grew up with. “Overture,” an original, grandiloquent composition from Holmes, is something of a manifesto on the concept. (Listen below.)

The nearly fifteen-minute-long piece is performed entirely solo, beginning with a meditative, droning theme that Holmes describes as a “secular prayer.” As he carefully, intricately unspools each melodic turn, infusions from across the map — geographical and genre — are delivered directly from Holmes’ brain-as-musical-sponge to the listener’s ear. Each fluttering bow stroke, aggressive shuffle, and stunning double-stop speaks to the contributions of the fiddle in nearly every culture on earth. Throughout “Overture,” these global influences reflect the United States’ “melting pot” status — the greater piece for which this is the overture, after all, is titled: American Fiddle Suite. (Its remaining movements are a work-in-progress.)

Fiddling, by its nature, will be an outgrowth of all of the history, culture, and art that has flowed through it over the course of its centuries-long existence. What distinguishes Holmes and “Overture,” however, is the intention with which he connects all of these widespread dots. It makes sense, it’s tangible, and at its essence, it’s beautiful. It’s all the more impressive then, that though “Overture” is an entirely composed, ostensibly “classical” piece, not a note is yet written down. Holmes plays it all by memory — his memory, and the fiddle’s, too.

Photo credit: Micah Mathewson

LISTEN: Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, “Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Gillian Welch and David Rawlings
Song: “Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss”
Album: All the Good Times
Release Date: July 10, 2020
Record Label: Acony Records

In Their Words: “TO OUR FRIENDS AND FANS, for reasons better discussed in the history books, in the Spring of 2020 Gillian and I dusted off an old tape machine and did some home recording. Sometimes we bumped the microphone, sometimes the tape ran out, but in the end we captured performances of some songs we love. Five are first takes and five took a little more doing, but they all helped pass the time and held our interest in playback enough that we wanted to share them with you. We sincerely hope that you enjoy All the Good Times.” — Gillian Welch & David Rawlings

Photo of Gillian Welch by Gillian Welch

Stuart Duncan’s Coffee Is a Disaster, But His ‘Goat Rodeo’ Fiddling Is Sublime

Posted on by Editor

Stuart Duncan, speaking by phone from his home outside of Nashville, is at a loss over how to describe the beautiful dissonance of the just-released collaborative album, Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

“I think all of us have — even if it is nebulous — some sort of idea in the back of our mind of how we’ll sound performing any given piece of music,” he tells BGS. “As soon as a little bit of rehearsal happens, the glue starts to come together within a very short period of time – 10 minutes, whatever – of rehearsing and talking. ‘Here’s where the emphasis is.’ ‘Make your note a little shorter, Stuart.’ Those things come together really quickly. Then it is just capturing the best performance of those ideas and moving on.”

A multi-instrumentalist who’s perhaps best known for his sublime fiddle playing, Duncan has racked up awards and accolades for his work in the Nashville Bluegrass Band and as a highly sought-after sideman for acts ranging from Garth Brooks and Robert Plant to Diana Krall and Panic at the Disco. The final piece to the Goat Rodeo quartet — which also encompasses Yo-Yo Ma, Chris Thile, and Edgar Meyer — Duncan’s virtuosity contributes crucially to the group’s category-defying sound.

This Artist of the Month interview is the first of four installments as BGS salutes the incredible and iconic musicians of Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

BGS: Your first album together (The Goat Rodeo Sessions from 2011) was described as being partly composed and partly improvised. Was that the same approach this time?

Duncan: I would say even more composed, [although] all the material has some improvisation in it. Certainly for me. But there are things that I have to do the way they are written or else it won’t arrive at the proper conclusion — which is what the whole “goat rodeo” name means. Everything has to go just right or catastrophe happens.

This album’s studio session was only ten days for the ten songs, so there wasn’t a lot of time to fool around.

The writing and the sheet music had to be together before we even arrived at the studio or any kind of first rehearsal. The first album involved at least a day or two of rehearsals, and more time for writing. We had like nine months to get that together. This one was more like nine weeks. It came together fast.

We were staying at a nice home in the Berkshires. We had all of our sheet music laid out. Edgar was taking notes. He was the primary copyist — doing the notations for Yo-Yo’s parts, because he was more familiar that sort of bowing. Last-minute tweaks were happening up until the night, even the day, of the first session.

Were there particular musical pieces you brought to the table?

I arrived with little stabs of things for both projects. The most obvious one this time was the pizzicato hammering on thing in “Your Coffee Is a Disaster.” That’s something I had been working on for a long time. It is something that I sort of arrived on while holding my violin in a recording studio waiting for something to get finished in another room. Just noodling around. Holding the instrument like a mandolin and playing it that way on my lap rather than a bow. It took Edgar hearing that and realizing it was the same tempo — or could be played at the same tempo — as one of his other intros. Playing those together kind of started Edgar thinking: “Hey, what if we sandwiched these two ideas?”

So there was a good deal of puzzle piecing the arrangements?

When Edgar’s bowing his bass, and Yo-Yo’s bowing and I’m bowing, we’ve got a lot of bowing. Lots of sustained possibilities. We like to use this to our maximum potential. Like having the violin go down and the cello go up at the same time — and they cross each other in a moment of dissonance. The bass comes in and provides a counterpoint underneath that strengthens that dissonance and comes to a resolution, we hope, at some point.

The middle part of “Your Coffee Is a Disaster” has some of that — counterpoint of violin and cello not arriving at the same note at the same time but a half a beat staggered from each other.

 

It sounds like an especially stimulating creative environment.

With the minds of Edgar and Chris on compositions thrown in with what I have to offer, as far as improv, it’s a thick soup — it’s a chowder.

Were there instances of too many ingredients in the chowder?

Oh sure, it’s way easy to go too far. Some folks, even some folks close to me, have said that we should have thrown out a few more things than we did. Other people, you know, are perfectly happy. It is an individual thing. I just want to get comfortable enough with what we did in the studio to perform it again live at some point.

Despite the limited time you four have had together, you all seem to have a great camaraderie.

We had to stop each from telling jokes so we could get some work done, or it would be Story City where we could sit there all day and tell stories. It kept people focused on the job at hand. We were so glad to be together again. It was really great, and we hope for more.

And has some communication shorthand developed too?

There were times when little nuances of translations had to occur between something that Yo-Yo would say to Edgar because Yo-Yo would know Edgar knew what he meant, but maybe wasn’t so sure he knew that Chris would know. Some deep Latin term from the classical world. So, Edgar would then translate the question to Chris, although Chris would probably know a lot about classical music. There were a couple times when Edgar had to reframe the question to ring Chris’s bell, then Chris would have to translate it to me. It would have to go around in a circle before I would understand what was being talking about.

There were some bowing things that happened where I was equally as frustrated at getting it right as Yo-Yo. I remember one time Yo-Yo said, “Why is the bowing so different for this [song]?” It was a piece that I had started writing on the mandolin. And Chris said, “It wouldn’t seem weird to you if you ever wielded a flat pick.”

Is everyone’s very broad musical interests a key factor to Goat Rodeo being such a unique collaboration?

Completely, definitely. Not just because we all have wide interests musically, but also you are dealing with two monster composers who can weave all of that information into something believable, however unlikely the premise might be.

I’ve also heard Yo-Yo say in interviews that he’s listening to everyone else at the same time he is concentrating on playing. His ears are open; he’s not just using his eyes and his musical abilities. That’s a huge important thing for all of us. Because of what other people do, it influences what we do.

We are completely used to that in the bluegrass, jazz, swing worlds where we are trading licks. Someone plays a lick and you echo what they play. Then make it your own and it goes back around. But when you’re dealing with a written piece of music, that is played the same way each time, there are other things you can listen for with each other. Where the note lands. Where someone else is feeling a flourish or a cascade of notes.

Also, you have someone like Edgar, who can write something into a piece of music that sounds like improv. He know to leave a space as if someone was thinking of the next thing to play rather it being right there. He’ll leave a few rests in there as if someone is playing off the top of their head. Leaving space for the listener.

What is one recording that ranks as a G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) for you?

Apart from all of bluegrass, old-time, jazz, swing, and blues that I grew up playing, loving and still worship, one of my favorite recordings is the Bach: Complete Sonatas & Partitas for Solo Violin by Arthur Grumiaux from the early ‘60s.

You can spend decades appreciating different kinds of music and then you think you don’t like classical music that much or it doesn’t hold your interest. Then somebody hands you something like that and says, “Check this out,” and it blew me away. I’ve been a fan of that recording ever since.

My sensibilities of how to perform a piece of music with Yo-Yo Ma were changed by hearing that recording. I became more sensitive to what was required from a violin to play that kind of music. The more aware, the more you can immerse yourself in what your instrument is capable of doing.

(Editor’s note: Read the remaining installments of our Artist of the Month interview series here.)

Photo credit: Josh Goleman

LISTEN: Mike Barnett, “Righteous Bell” (Featuring Sarah Jarosz)

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Mike Barnett
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Righteous Bell” (featuring Sarah Jarosz)
Album: + 1
Release Date: September 11, 2020
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: “I wrote this just before the 2016 presidential election. Looking back, there is much work to be done before any ‘righteous bell’ is rung. The juxtaposition of the propelling, changing instrumental and the grounding, unchanging vocal melody creates a sort of galvanizing tension that hopefully inspires the listener to take action — voting, conversing, learning, protesting, etc. Just like in an old-time jam, the vocal melody and lyric fuels the fiddles and banjos, and everyone feeds off each other’s energy. Sarah Jarosz’s powerful singing and driving clawhammer banjo brought this song to life.” — Mike Barnett

Photo credit: Stacie Huckeba

BGS 5+5: Scroggins & Rose

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Scroggins & Rose
Hometown: Oakland, California
Latest Album: Curios
Release Date: June 26, 2020
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): We’re not really the nickname types. haha I think for a while we thought of calling ourselves Spiral or something like that, but we landed on Scroggins & Rose pretty quickly.

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

Alisa Rose: I believe any art that I experience influences what I create. I love the floaty mysticism of Chagall’s paintings, the elegant structure in Martha Graham’s dances, the lyricism of Morrison’s books, and the beautiful details of Proulx’s stories. I hope a bit of all of these seep into what I create.

Tristan Scroggins: I’ve always loved paintings and have been inspired by how they can convey so much meaning and emotion through things other than the picture itself. The brush strokes and colors and style all tell their own story without necessarily being the center of attention and I try to incorporate that idea into my playing as much as I can. With composition I/we draw inspiration from a lot of different sources. One of my favorite writing games we did while writing the tunes on this album was listening to an album of tongue twisters and trying to write tunes based on the rhythm of certain ones.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

AR: When I was 6, I read a story about Paganini and how he played the violin so beautifully that he made people cry. I was really struck by the power of music, and from then on I thought I would like to be a violinist.

TS: I grew up listening to my dad play the banjo but it had never crossed my mind to play music until I was 8 years old. I was watching my dad perform and was overcome with a sense of pride and I asked him to teach me to play. It was never a conscious decision after that to be a musician. I always just assumed that I was going to do that.

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

AR: Before a big show I like to have a few hours of relaxed practice with some slow work on intonation, basics, and the pieces I’m going to perform. I also try to eat well (I like lots of protein before a performance) and go on a walk or a run in nature if possible. With Scroggins & Rose performances it’s important for us to improvise and warm up together as well to make sure we are both attuned to each other and able to connect well on stage.

TS: For a long time I would do confidence exercises/meditations. I’m pretty shy in everyday life so I had to consciously embody the persona of someone who wanted to be the center of attention. For Scroggins & Rose shows we usually warm up together and will do some improvisation games so that we can get in the mindset of reading body language and musical cues on stage.

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

AR: I spend as much time as I can walking through redwoods and exploring the rocky dramatic Californian coastline near my home in the Bay Area. For me, music is deeply associated with my experiences in the natural world and many of my tunes are inspired by the feeling of specific places I’ve been to. For instance, “Wisconsin Wayside” is about driving through beautiful green rolling hills and cornfields on winding country roads in Dane County where I grew up. I also spend a lot of time thinking about melodies I’m working on while I hike; the melodies often find their own path while I’m walking on one.

TS: I spend a lot of time looking at nature but not really being a part of it. I’ve gotten to see lots of really beautiful things but usually through a car windshield. Those sceneries and landscapes are often used as inspiration for textures and moods in composition (such as the “wide-open” feeling of tunes like “the French Cowboy” or “Wyoming”). I also find myself writing about birds a lot. I wouldn’t call myself a “bird watcher,” but I do spend a lot of time watching birds and I have written a number of tunes about birds.

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

AR: Although the music I write has no words, to me the tunes are often about a character or story that is not my own. I feel music is a powerful way for people to connect to each other around the shared experience of listening, even if what each of us hears is unique. To perform a tune, like an actor, I find I need to experience the story and emotions as my own, even if they were not originally conceived that way.

TS: I think this is a really interesting question as someone who mostly writes instrumental music, because I think the answer is “always.” Or at least almost always. Whenever I write a tune about a personal event or feeling I don’t feel the need for any restraint because, ultimately, people are going to interpret the tune in their own way. That’s the nature of instrumental music. It’s like a magic trick where the interesting part of the performance is only happening in the viewer’s mind. Of course I can lead the audience’s interpretation by telling them what I wrote it about before it’s played, but even then what each note means to me will be different from what it means to them.

Photo credit: Lenny Gonzales

Bluegrass Memoirs: Mayne Smith & Alice Gerrard

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Tom Power’s recent Toy Heart episode with Alice Gerrard, whom I first knew as Alice Foster, reminded me of a 1959 visit several of us Oberlin College folkies made to Antioch College. In 2009, doing research on my early bluegrass experiences, I sent my friend Mayne Smith an email asking about his experiences when he met Alice and her late husband Jeremy Foster during that visit. 

Mayne and I are the same age and have known each other since 1953. We got into folk music as teens in Berkeley, California, and discovered bluegrass together from 1957 to 1959 while in Oberlin, Ohio. We first heard it on records and radio, and at this time had seen it live only once, when we met banjoists Eric Weissberg and Marshall Brickman at a 1958 spring vacation homecoming party in New York City. We had begun trying to play bluegrass with a circle of Oberlin classmates, folk music enthusiasts learning new music and working on new instruments. 

In the introduction to my memoir, Bluegrass Generation, I mention our trips to Antioch as undergrads, where we met the Fosters. 

Antioch was, like Oberlin, a liberal arts college that drew students from all over the country and beyond. At the time, its co-op system, which placed students in jobs every second semester or so, was thought to be radical. Unlike Oberlin, which still drew on a pious abolitionist point of view about many things, it tended to be a more socially relaxed place. A Fun Place to Party. 

Mayne Smith, Kaz Inaba, and Neil Rosenberg after a morning of jamming at the Hotel New Hankyu in Osaka, Japan. April 31, 1991.

Mayne was the first of our Oberlin bluegrass circle to meet the Fosters during one of these trips. This music was still a new and distant thing to us; we didn’t own tape recorders. In my email I asked Mayne: 

What memories do you have of visiting Antioch and meeting Alice and Jeremy? I went there several times and recall you being there, but don’t have any documents like tapes or photos that include you. Any recollections, however hazy, would be welcome. I remember that you had some kind of document from the Fosters giving you honorary membership in [their band] the Green County Stump Jumpers — do you still have that, was it dated? 

Mayne answered the next day: 

Neil, I have (for me) unusually vivid memories of our first visit to Antioch and hanging out at the Fosters’ place because it was there that I contracted the Stanley Brothers virus. I think it must have been in the spring of 1959 because I had already heard Flatt & Scruggs and understood that this was called bluegrass music. 

But first, Jeremy’s hand-drawn certificate (on a 4×6 card) is undated, but it reads: 

I also vaguely remember showing Marge [Ostrow] (later married to Mike Seeger for a while) how I played Carter Family style guitar. I think I got it from Dave Fredrickson — using the thumb to pick melody, then the index finger brushing down/up. I heard later that Mike was impressed by the fact that Marge had adopted this approach, and asked her where she learned it. 

But about the Stanley Brothers. I recall a thinly carpeted living room with expansive white bookshelves along the wall opposite the windows. At some point, in an afternoon I think, Jeremy put on a tape of the Stanley Brothers in live performance — my gut tells me it was one of the ones Mike Seeger had recorded at New River Ranch in like 1957. As soon as I heard that totally live, undoctored sound I was captivated, and I believe I sat and lay on that hard floor listening to live Stanley Brothers shows (several sets, at least) for hours. My mind was blown. Knowing it was totally live and without studio gimmicks and buried background effects, it came home to me how the fluctuating balance of instruments and voices was accomplished by movement in relation to the microphone and each other, how at times there were lovely breathing spaces in the sound while people shifted from instrumental breaks to solo vocals to harmony vocals. How nobody was using a lot of physical effort to project the sound, yet it penetrated, flowed, darted ahead, waxed and waned like the mating dance of a single complex organism — and how comfortable and familiar the musicians were with what they were singing and playing. 

I was learning not only about how bluegrass fits together, but also about what a band can be like when it’s been playing constantly together, day in and day out, for weeks — for years. 

I don’t believe I’ve ever had a more intense listening and learning experience, nor one that had such a profound effect on my life. 

I should also mention that this was partly possible because I could tell that [Jeremy] and Alice understood what I was going through and supported me by staying out of the way. I felt toward them the way a bridegroom feels about the best man and maid of honor: I could give myself over to the intensity of the music in a nurturing environment. (In retrospect, it was kind of like having a trusted support team when you first get stoned on something very strong.) 

I will always be grateful to them both. 

If you were around when this happened, I don’t remember it. I just blanked on everything else but those sounds. 

I wasn’t at the Fosters when this happened, which was not in the spring of 1959 as Mayne recalled, but a few months earlier, during the January break between semesters. While he visited them, I was off jamming with Guy Carawan, who’d given a concert at Antioch that weekend. I didn’t meet Alice and Jeremy until they brought the Green County Stump Jumpers to an Oberlin Hootenanny a year later. 

In May 1959, our old Berkeley folk scene friend Sandy Paton (co-founder of Folk Legacy records) was the headliner at the annual Oberlin Folk Festival. By then our circle had become The Lorain County String Band. Sandy heard our festival set and said he knew a British folk record company producer who was looking for American bluegrass and old-timey. He suggested we make a demo he could send to his friend. We cut it at the student radio station, but it was never sent. 

That summer, back home in Berkeley, we started The Redwood Canyon Ramblers, Northern California’s first bluegrass band. The story of that band, and of Mayne’s subsequent career as a singer/songwriter and steel guitarist with continuing excursions into bluegrass, is told well at Mayne’s website.

But it does not include an important detail — his groundbreaking work as a scholar. His Master’s Thesis, “Bluegrass Music and Musicians” (Indiana U., 1964) and the article he developed from it, “An Introduction to Bluegrass” (Journal of American Folklore, 1965) opened the door to the serious study of this music. His transcendent aural immersion at the Fosters was the seed that gave him the vision to accomplish this work. I and the many who have followed are indebted to Mayne Smith for blazing the trail.

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, and Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee.

Photo of Neil V. Rosenberg: Terri Thomson Rosenberg
Photo of Mayne Smith, Kaz Inaba, and Neil Rosenberg: Ed Neff

Bluegrass Pride Invites LGBTQ+ Roots Music Fans to Porch Pride Festival

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Out of 270 floats, companies, and queer associations, a roots music organization’s marching contingent was crowned “Best of the Best” at San Francisco’s world-famous Pride parade in 2017. And they did it on their very first try — the only organization to ever achieve such a feat. Who was that overalls-and-rainbow-glitter-clad crew of more than a hundred bluegrass fans, pickers, and professionals? Bluegrass Pride.

The Bluegrass Situation has been proud to support Bluegrass Pride since 2017, with our logo emblazoned on the inaugural float that carried three bluegrass and old-time bands down Market Street to the cheers of thousands of brand new “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” fans. In 2020, the nonprofit organization had planned its biggest Pride celebrations yet (in San Francisco; Portland, Oregon; Raleigh, North Carolina; and Nashville, Tennessee) while still welcoming the rural and non-metropolitan LGBTQ+ folks who love and make these musics, too.

Enter our most familiar villain, COVID-19. In response, Bluegrass Pride has shifted to a new concept, Porch Pride: A Bluegrass Pride Queer-antine Festival. Featuring more than ten hours of music by queer and allied artists such as Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, Molly Tuttle, Sam Gleaves, Jake Blount, Rachel Baiman, and more, the livestream event will air June 27 and 28 on Bluegrass Pride’s website, YouTube channel, and Facebook and Instagram pages. Porch Pride will raise money for Bluegrass Pride and all of the musicians on the bill. Fans and followers are encouraged to donate now.

To celebrate Porch Pride with our longtime friends at Bluegrass Pride, we connected with Executive Director Kara Kundert and powerhouse singer/songwriter and the digital festival’s “headliner” Amythyst Kiah.

BGS: For those unfamiliar with Bluegrass Pride, how would you describe it?

Kara Kundert: Oh, what a big question. In a purely statutory sense, I would say that Bluegrass Pride is a nonprofit organization devoted to the advancement of LGBTQ+ people within the bluegrass, old-time, and broader roots music traditions. To get a little bit more descriptive, we work every day to make bluegrass a more welcoming place for people of all backgrounds. Our mission is to show the world that bluegrass is for everyone, so we try to create programs that serve all kinds of people who love and participate in American traditional music. We put on local beginner-friendly jams and create introductory video content to help people get involved with the community even as they’re just starting out, and we host concerts and showcases to create paid opportunities for professional musicians.

Amythyst Kiah: …Simply, my idea of what something like Bluegrass Pride represents: It is about accepting all forms of identity and expression in a style of music that is known for having a more traditional culture, and it’s also an outlet for queer people who don’t fit the stereotype of gay club culture. As iconic and important gay club culture is historically, it isn’t everyone’s experience.

How did the idea for Porch Pride come to you? 

Kundert: Via the incredibly talented Jake Blount! Jake is on the Bluegrass Pride board of directors and he came to me back in March (just as everything was starting to shut down and we were holing up for quarantine) to suggest that Bluegrass Pride host a digital festival to support artists in the face of the first round of gig cancellations. He had participated in the first iteration of the Stay At Home Festival and had seen how much energy and support there were for these artists, and thought that it was a natural fit for Bluegrass Pride and our mission.

At that point in time, it was still really unclear how long and how bad the COVID pandemic was going to be — we still believed that SF Pride was going to march down Market Street in June — so I was a little nervous to take on the project. I was worried that we wouldn’t have the resources to do everything and do it well. We started discussing smaller-scale projects, like weekly concert series or short little weekend showcases, things that we would have the budget to do in addition to our regular programming.

But within a couple of weeks, it became pretty clear that our whole season was going to change dramatically, and that was when the plan shifted from being “maybe we’ll host a couple of digital concerts to keep momentum before Pride” to creating Porch Pride and really making it the center of our entire year.

People don’t tend to think of bluegrass or roots music when it comes to Pride celebrations, and obviously y’all think that needs to change! Why? What does bluegrass and string band music bring to the greater LGBTQ+ community? 

Kiah: I see this event and organization as a way to formally recognize that LGBTQ+ have always been present in the communities where bluegrass and other roots-based music originated from. Historically, media has projected many ideas of what being queer looks and sounds like, and it’s high time to recognize and celebrate other ways of being and doing when it comes to music.

Kundert: I think that there’s a problem whenever people aren’t being represented. So it was a problem for bluegrass that LGBTQ+ stories and music weren’t being heard onstage. It was a problem when queer folks were being excluded from jams and from gigs just because of their identity. And it’s a problem for the LGBTQ+ community that this portion of our family isn’t being included in the conversation about what “gayness” is. We as a culture have this extremely metropolitan, white, male-centric idea of what the LGBTQ+ community is, which is what you really see on display on these corporate floats at the major cities’ Pride parades, and it leaves out so many people. There are as many ways to be queer as there are colors under the sun, and that’s something that we as a [bluegrass] community need to do more to embrace in order to support and uplift every single person in the LGBTQ+ community.

Amythyst, with your songwriting and your work with Our Native Daughters you’ve been a powerful voice, lifting up Black songs and stories. How does that perspective as a Black woman complement Bluegrass Pride for you? What do these two movements have in common, and what do they combine?

Kiah: Both movements involve recognizing and uplifting marginalized voices, due to the continued generational trauma that both have had to endure. Being Black, a woman, typically gender-nonconformant, and queer, I have experienced some form of questionable actions, treated as if I was invisible, and [received] looks of contempt by other people. I am fortunate that I haven’t experienced much worse, but that being said, I was terrified of my own shadow for years before I really started to embrace myself and be myself. So Bluegrass Pride is about recognizing that we all have value, just as Songs of Our Natives is about.

Kara, planning a Pride event can be a major undertaking. What is the reward for you, on a personal level, after putting in so many hours to prepare?

Kundert: Creating and running these events is always such an emotional rollercoaster. There’s so much anxiety and energy in the planning: Are people going to show up? Is it going to go well? Are people going to connect with it, or are they just not going to care at all? But then in the moment, you get to listen to this wonderful music by talented people, and be with a crowd of people that want to support Bluegrass Pride, and it’s euphoric. So far, I haven’t been let down by that moment of standing in a crowd and experiencing that kind of threefold-payoff of enjoying the music as an audience member, enjoying the crowd and energy as someone standing on stage, and enjoying the sheer relief of not totally fucking up as a producer.

But beyond that very selfish gratification, I also know how much these events mean to people. I know there are people who play bluegrass right now — people who are showing up at jams and forming bands and going to festivals — because Bluegrass Pride made them feel welcome and safe to be there. There are people who found Bluegrass Pride and realized that maybe they could come out after all. I know that these events — our parade float in San Francisco, our LGBTQ+ Musician Showcase in Raleigh, our beginner-friendly jams — they mean something to people. So when I get to stand in the crowd and see people’s smiles and feel people’s energy, both on- and off-stage, it makes me feel like what we’re doing matters to people. That all of the work and the hours and the stress: they add up to something bigger than just myself or my own feelings of relief and exhaustion. And that’s what keeps me going after four years of being a part of Bluegrass Pride.

What are you most looking forward to during Porch Pride? 

Kundert: I know this is a cliche to say, but I’m looking forward to all of it — I put together the lineup after all! We have so many talented artists, I’m just looking forward to hearing all of their great music and seeing how people come together to celebrate Pride with us this year.

Kiah: I am looking forward to (hopefully) finding a quiet place outside to share some stories and music! If only it could be done in person, but I’ll take what I can get! Being safe [is a] top priority.

How can we all celebrate Pride “better” this year? 

Kiah: I think one thing to keep in mind is that not everyone can safely be out of the closet, and that we should always keep those folks in our thoughts and to remember that [there is] more than one way to live out our truths in a way that we see most fit. Whenever we are waving our rainbow flags or wearing our rainbow suspenders, we’re also wearing them for the ones that can’t be with us.

Kundert: I think the key to best celebrating Pride — and to best doing most things in life — is to take a page from the author John Green and put energy into imagining people more complexly. If we imagine Pride more complexly, we see beyond the metronormative, white, cis, corporate stereotypes of Pride and begin to see new possibilities — for a Pride without all the weird classist, toxic binarism and gate-keeping. If we imagine bluegrass more complexly, we can break out of these same tired tropes that we’ve been falling into years and start telling new stories — using this art form as a way to create authentic and fresh connections with people.

We must do everything we can to see and honor people in all of their nuance. By forming connections with people, we are able to glimpse outside of our own lives. To do so enables us to generate empathy for each other, to see each other as family rather than strangers, or worse, as adversaries. To expand our circles and grow our vision of humanity will help us to better fight for justice for all, rather than justice for a few.

Photo credit: Anna Hedges
Artwork: Courtesy of Bluegrass Pride

BGS Long Reads of the Week // June 19

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Summer approaches, the heat and humidity are here, at BGS South in Nashville the fireflies are alight every night, and it’s the perfect season for a porch swing reading session (if you can stand a little sweatin’).

The BGS archives will keep you stocked for just such an occasion! Each week, as we share our favorite longer, more in-depth articles, stories, and features to help you pass the time, we post our #longreadoftheday picks… yes, daily across our social media channels [on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram]. But of course, here’s the weekly round-up, too. Get your long reads wherever you like!

This week’s stories cast daylight, share wisdom, get toes tapping, revisit old memories, and much more.

Grace Potter Sets the Scene with Dramatic Daylight

An excellent long read for starting us out, with this one you’ll get a bit of fresh air and a whole lotta Daylight, Grace Potter’s most recent album, which was released last fall. Our interview explores the cinematic quality of the album, how Potter built her band post-Nocturnals, and little things too — like how bluegrass and southern California resonate within her. Grace Potter’s voice is commanding, on the stage or on the page. [Read the interview]

Hear Six of Our Favorite Instrumentals on IBMA’s Second-Round Ballot

We debuted Tunesday Tuesday in January 2018 for a pretty simple reason. Roots music has a world-class stable of talented pickers, and unlike other more commercial genres, that talent is something of a prerequisite — especially in bluegrass! This short list-formatted Tunesday is a perfect long read/listen, and even though the IBMA Awards’ second-round ballot is now closed, you may need to do some studying for the final ballot still to come this summer! [Get listening]

Doc Watson: Live Memories and Moments

Anyone who ever had the extreme good fortune of seeing Doc Watson perform live can easily recount their favorite moments remembered from his time on stage. Lucky for any of us who can’t get enough of those memories, Watson put so many of them down on recordings and live tapes. Stroll a bit back through the catalog of those live performances with BGS. [Read more]

Counsel of Elders: Taj Mahal on Understanding the World

And he understands it! The wisdom and storytelling gifted to us by blues innovator and legend Taj Mahal in this 2016 interview is not only perfect for a long read pick, but it was perfect for a #ThrowbackThursday, too. The voices and perspectives of our elders are vital as we struggle for a more just future, and our musical elders have plenty of insight to pass on, as well. [Read the whole interview]

Bluegrass Pride Invites LGBTQ+ Roots Music Fans to Porch Pride Festival

In a little over a week our friends at Bluegrass Pride will hold their online Pride festival, Porch Pride, featuring performances by queer artists, musicians, and bands and their allies — such as Jake Blount, Tatiana Hargreaves, Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, and Molly Tuttle. In advance of the event, we spoke to Bluegrass Pride’s Executive Director, Kara Kundert, and artist Amythyst Kiah about Pride, roots music, and what to expect from the festival. [Read more]

Photo of Amythyst Kiah: Anna Hedges

Jake Blount Looks Deeper into the Black Traditions of Old-Time Music

Posted on by Editor

It is long known that Black artists in the twentieth century who spoke out against white supremacy often paid for it with their lives. As a Black man and a queer person, Jake Blount is intimately familiar with this history. In the liner notes of his new album Spider Tales, Blount predicts “escalating patterns of violence and ecological crises that threaten the survival of our species.” In the same breath he urges us to remember the ancestors who felt “the same grief, powerlessness, and fury” — and found a way to survive through wit and wisdom.

Spider Tales features a band of mostly queer artists, with Blount on banjo and fiddle. His tune and song choices introduce us to musicians long ignored. Familiar songs are reinterpreted, their fangs reinstated. Through this process, he takes us on a journey of rage, revolution and muffled voices made louder. We are the better for it.

BGS spoke with Blount, who grew up in Washington, D.C., but is now based in Rhode Island, about Spider Tales and his focus on the marginalized among us.

BGS: The title of Spider Tales is a nod to the trickster of Akan mythology, Anansi, who as you stated in your liner notes, weaponizes his wit and wisdom against oppressors more powerful than himself. And that’s what Black folks have had to do since the Middle Passage. Everything had to be subversive as a matter of survival. Can you speak about your process and musical choices in bringing that subversion to the forefront on this album?

Blount: For me the tricky part of bringing out these kinds of hidden meanings, and the mass significance of a lot of these songs, was that I had to pick songs that spoke in metaphors but put them together in a way that the metaphors became obvious. Finding a way to be loyal to the art form and not just be totally explicit with what was being said, but still make the message apparent to people, was really difficult.

I think a lot of that came down to how I framed things in the liner notes, but also the songs that I picked. Picking some things that were more familiar, some things that were not…some things that are more explicit and more direct and some things that are not. Being mindful of the track order helped tie things together and, I would hope, clarify the common thread between all the songs.

I want to ask you about your arrangement of “Where Did You Sleep Last Night” by Leadbelly. I hear this song a lot at jams. Some people refer to it as “In the Pines” and it’s often framed as being from one embittered lover to another. Your version of the song has this kind of bereft energy, almost frightening. What drew you to interpret this song in the way you did?

It’s partially an artifact of the fact that I first heard the song from hearing Kurt Cobain play it… I’m sure there’s some Nirvana energy lingering from middle school Jake in this recording. [Laughs] But even aside from that, when I listened to the Leadbelly version, I heard that song in a vacuum before I was ever involved in traditional music in any particular depth. I never really thought of it as a love song. It’s spoken, ostensibly, from one romantic partner to another sure, but it seems like it’s about disappearing and dying.

To me, you’re losing somebody — somebody is going away from you. That resonated because I grew up hearing stories from my dad about how there were people who just disappeared. I think we have this picture in our heads of racial violence in the south as lynchings; that of course did happen, but also there’s this other narrative of people just vanishing in the woods, and everyone would kind of have to assume what had happened.

I wound up connecting to that strongly because I came up during high school and college working with LGBTQ advocacy groups, volunteering my time and organizing with other youth. Doing that, you see a lot of people lose their homes, get kicked out of their houses, get incarcerated. You see a lot of people die. That song spoke to me on that level of “these are people who are just going away.” It reminds me of all the times that a friend would just drop off the map. A week or two later, you realize “Oh, I haven’t seen this person.” That kind of thing happened frequently when I was younger. It definitely still happens to people in that age group now, so that’s where my interpretation of the song comes out of.

This version of “Boll Weevil” is one of the best I’ve heard. I always knew it as coming from Tommy Jarrell, but I read in your liner notes that he learned the tune from a Black woman at a festival backstage. He never saw fit to credit her, which is why she’s still unnamed today. Reading that made me feel some type of way about the manner in which Black people — and Black women — have been forgotten by history, forgotten now. I wonder if it was a similar feeling for you. How did you deal with emotionally processing what you were learning while you were researching these tunes?

I think I’ve been so immersed in the ephemera of old-time fiddle music for long enough that it almost doesn’t surprise me anymore, which is sad, but Tommy Jarrell is someone who has a pattern of doing that. I feel like there are multiple older source musicians from that generation who would reference having learned from Black people but wouldn’t name them or wouldn’t give a complete name.

“Brown Skin Baby” is another tune like that on the album. Jabe Dillon learned it from an older Black fiddler and the only name he gave was Old Dennis. You can’t Google “Old Dennis.” There’s very specific information that oftentimes [white musicians] give with other white sources. But Black sources don’t get treated the same way.

Part of the reason I was so meticulous about the liner notes here is to avoid doing that a second time, because it still sometimes happens where people don’t credit the sources or sometimes don’t look up the sources. I’ll be the first to say that you don’t have to learn everything from a source recording — that’s not necessarily honest to the way the tradition has worked throughout history either. But I think it’s important to have a relationship with the musicians who cultivated the music we are now enjoying.

Yeah, I think especially with people like Cecil Sharpe and [John] Lomax, it’s like, Cecil Sharpe made his way through West Virginia. In his diaries he was so obsessed with this purity of old-time music, and white people, and actively refusing to record anyone else. It must have been such a sliver of what was going on at the time and of the knowledge that could have been passed down.

Exactly. Even like the later folks, there are folks who made a lot of recordings of Black people and were like “I need to find the Blackest music that I can so I’m going to go to prisons!” and it’s like, “You’re only really Black if you’re in jail for it.” [Laughs incredulously] That’s the mentality that carries through in that sort of scholarship and even today.

I always think it’s best to focus on the most marginalized among us and it’s really important that the working-class traditions be emphasized and accepted and made part of the canon. But I also think it’s really important for today’s Black people to know that there was prosperity in our communities going back that far. The Black middle class, which was ascendant at the time many of these first recordings were being made, never got examined by the folks making the recordings. It’s a tremendous loss to me because you would get to hear from people who were maybe articulating the experience of navigating how to become, in a capitalist sense, successful for a Black person in the late 1800s and early 1900s.

What would have been the songs about the Greenwood District in Tulsa? There are all of these really incredible things that happened and these really horrifying ways that white supremacists would crack down on Black people for attaining that level of success that are part of the story and ought to be told. Because we focused so narrowly for so long on Black musical traditions that were coming out of super rural country places, even though a lot of Black people had moved to the city by that time — I feel your pain that there is a great deal that is lost when we focus so narrowly on this thing that fulfills our stereotype notion of what we should be looking for.

I love the last song on the album, “Mad Mama’s Blues,” which comes from Josie Miles. That first line, “I want to set the world on fire,” is so great, the melody is flirtatious, but the lyrics are furious. Can you talk about why you chose that song as the album closer?

I feel like the album couldn’t have been timed better if we’d known about what was going to happen in Minneapolis. My whole mission with this album was to show people that this has been coming for hundreds of years. There’ve been warnings and people have been trying to speak on it and they haven’t been heard. I think putting [this song] as the closing note on the album felt perfect to me because it is very explicit in its emotional expression and what it gets across to the listener — but at the same time, it is masked in this jumpy upbeat, sort of silly presentation. It’s like the 1920s “Hey Ya!” [Both laugh] It’s like a bop, and you’re like “Yes Queen!” and then you’re like “Oh, he’s killing people.”

I think that’s a really valuable part of the Black musical tradition. To me it provides us an interesting lens to look back on the fiddle tunes. For so many people when they hear fiddle and banjo, they’re like “Oh this is a happy song! I’m going to start dancing now” and really there can be so much hidden inside of that.

People are sometimes more concerned with their expectations for what a piece of music is going to be than what it actually is. Putting this song at the close is saying: “Your musical assumptions about the content here would not be correct.” You then have to go back and examine the other [songs] with the idea in mind that perhaps you need to look more deeply than you otherwise might in order to understand what’s being said.

Editor’s Note: Blount will be featured in the Bluegrass Situation Presents: A St. Patrick’s Day Festival at New York’s New Irish Arts Center, participating in an opening night jam session with clawhammer banjoist Allison de Groot, fiddler Tatiana Hargreaves, and traditional dancer Nic Gareiss on March 17 as well as a headlining performance with Gareiss on March 18.

All photos: Michelle Lotker

Hear Six of Our Favorite Instrumentals on IBMA’s Second-Round Ballot

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We debuted Tunesday Tuesday in January 2018 for a pretty simple reason. Roots music has a world-class stable of talented pickers, and unlike other more commercial genres, that talent is something of a prerequisite. Whether blues or bluegrass or country or folk, there’s something about American roots music that goes hand in hand with virtuosic playing ability. It’s one of the main reasons BGS loves string band music. 

The 20 tunes that advanced to this year’s second-round IBMA ballot in the Instrumental Recording of the Year category showcase a wide range of the talent that draws us to instrumentals, so why not go through a half-dozen of our favorites? Some of these folks have been featured in their own Tunesday Tuesday before, some are newcomers, but two things unite all of them: You’ll be tapping a toe and looking up whether your IBMA membership has lapsed or not after listening to any of the following instrumentals. 

“Bish Bash Bosh” – David Benedict

An outlier in this category for more than one reason, mandolinist David Benedict’s “Bish Bash Bosh” is a breath of fresh air thanks to its tender intro, its languid tempo, and the musical wiggle room afforded to the track by each. Fiddler Mike Barnett and IBMA Award-winning veterans Missy Raines (bass) and David Grier (guitar) are each sensitive, empathetic sounding boards for Benedict’s themes, unspooling and embellishing them expertly. More tender-yet-gritty instrumentals in this category going forward, please!

“Big Country” – Gena Britt

Can’t get much more bluegrass than a tune like “Big Country” and Gena Britt’s right hand! The Sister Sadie banjo player’s solo album, Chronicle: Friends and Music, showcases not only her spotlessly crisp, bread-and-butter approach to Scruggs-style banjo, but her singing voice and her sparkly group of musical friends, too. It’s refreshing to hear banjo playing that’s truly unconcerned with ego, while remaining happily in a pretty much traditional lane. If it ain’t broke, after all… 

“Princess and the Pea” – The Gina Furtado Project

Two incredible, banjo-playing Ginas/Genas back to back! Gina Furtado’s debut record with her band, the Gina Furtado Project, features this delightfully medieval, fairy tale tune with a more-joyful-than-most minor-key motif. Furtado reminds all of us that her playing contains many more influences than we often assume, with subtle call backs to Tony Rice and John Carlini-tinged eras in bluegrass’s new acoustic circles. Even the tune’s production guides listeners’ ears in this direction. It’s another excellent sonic “ear break” on the ballot.

“Soldier’s Joy” – Jesse McReynolds (Feat. Michael Cleveland)

A Bluegrass Hall of Fame inductee and the oldest living member of the Grand Ole Opry, Jesse McReynolds epitomizes what it means to be a bluegrass legend and forebear — and he’s still picking. On a recording with umpteen-time IBMA Award-winning fiddler Michael Cleveland, McReynolds shows his audience exactly why he deserves every accolade he’s received and more. Given his age (McReynolds will turn 91 this year) and inevitable decline in mobility and dexterity, you’d expect a gracious caveat herein to allow for the recordings “warts” and “raw moments,” but damn if his playing isn’t as clean as ever! An award-winning, award-deserving mandolinist, no doubt.

“Chickens in the House” – Deanie Richardson

That fiddler, educator, and multi-instrumentalist Deanie Richardson does not have an IBMA Award unto herself yet is a true injustice. Also a member of Sister Sadie with Gena Britt, Richardson has been a lifelong presence in bluegrass and fiddle contest scenes around the US, and has toured with Vince Gill, Patty Loveless, Bob Seger, and been house fiddler on the Grand Ole Opry. “Chickens in the House” features some timeless fiddling chicken imitations, as well as a languid backstep feel that clicks up a few BPM as the band goes, so watch your feet should they get to shufflin’ without your say-so.

“Guitar Peace” – Billy Strings

Until snagging his first proper IBMA Awards just last year for Best New Artist and Guitar Player of the Year, flatpicking phenomenon Billy Strings has gone generally underappreciated by voting members. His crowds, his shows, and his fans are extraordinary in bluegrass, jamgrass, and similar communities – the roots music sphere continues to watch his ascent with something like a slack jaw. Though it’s unlikely he’ll dominate this year’s IBMA Awards, this trance, solo acoustic guitar track, “Guitar Peace,” which features a calming, buzzing drone and plenty of Strings’ trademark six-string acrobatics, deserves the nod. 

Photo credits: David Benedict by Louise Bichan; Gena Britt courtesy of the artist; Gina Furtado Project by Sandlin Gaither; Jesse McReynolds still; Deanie Richardson by Kerrie Richardson; Billy Strings by Shane Timm.