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It’s Time to Induct Dolly Parton Into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Country superstar Dolly Parton died on August 25, 2026, and the entire world is mourning a beloved musician, singer, songwriter, and picker – and the bluegrass community has lost one of its most prominent global ambassadors.

Born in 1946, Parton enjoyed a resplendent and diverse musical career that spanned seven decades, beginning in her beloved Smoky Mountains in East Tennessee, where she grew up steeped in “old-timey” and “mountain music.” She would go on to be inducted into both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (despite her objections to the latter honor), as well as the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. In 2005 she was awarded the National Medal of the Arts and in 2006 she received the Kennedy Center Honors. Parton would garner 11 Grammy Awards and a Lifetime Achievement Grammy (and more than 50 additional nominations), three Emmy Awards, 13 ACM Awards, 10 CMA Awards, four IBMA Awards, and many, many more accolades and trophies – including two Academy Award nominations and an honorary Oscar.

While Parton is known as an artist and songwriter – reportedly penning more than 3,000 songs in her lifetime – she enjoyed a well-rounded career in many fields, in the arts and beyond, starring in films, writing and producing stage shows, plays, and musicals, producing films and TV, publishing and writing books, bringing food and home goods lines to market, planning a chain of truck stops – and being “Dreamer-in-Chief” of Dollywood, her namesake theme park in her home county in East Tennessee. In the most recent days of her life and career, Dolly was a truly ubiquitous celebrity and cultural figure, not just in the USA, but around the world.

It would be nearly impossible to overstate her influence not only in country, roots music, and Americana, but in bluegrass, too. Parton was a devoted proponent and picker of bluegrass over the course of her entire career; she released more than a handful of decidedly bluegrass albums out of her dozens of LPs. Two of them, The Grass Is Blue (1999) and Heartsongs: Live From Home (1994), are often regarded as two of her best releases of all time – especially The Grass Is Blue, reportedly touted by members of her own team and inner circle. And bluegrass touches and influences would show up across her body of work, including in her original musical and her film and TV projects. Even more old-time and mountain music threads have been woven through her musical output than straight-up-and-down bluegrass has, with bedazzled mountain dulcimers and autoharps and tin whistles just as common in her videos and stage appearances as her trusty rhinestoned guitars and banjos.

At the turn of the century, Parton released The Grass Is Blue as well as Little Sparrow (2001) and Halos & Horns (2002), partnering with iconic bluegrass and country label Sugar Hill. The albums arrived at a tumultuous and fraught time in Parton’s career, when daytime television talk shows and tabloids seemed to be her business (and music’s) bread-and-butter. She and her management successfully leveraged the sounds, aesthetics, and cultural signifiers of bluegrass with this trifecta of albums – which were musically excellent, though critics regarded some of them with mixed opinions – to yet again employ a “rags to riches” storyline, as she had her entire career.

At this relative low point of visibility in her career, experiencing a sort of commercial and pop cultural lull, bluegrass was there to spark the resurgence that would bring Dolly not only back into the mainstream, but would lay the foundation for the peak of her cultural magnitude in the 2010s and 2020s. It’s a storyline – a trope and an archetype – she had inhabited across her career, from the little “one room cabin” Tennessee mountain home to Hollywood and her white “limozeen.” But just like those earliest days of her young life, as a youngster singing into a tin-can microphone she fashioned with a stick on her front porch, bluegrass, old-time, and mountain music have always been at the core of Parton’s success and her broad appeal.

Her collaborations with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, especially Trio (1987) and Trio II (1999), boast perhaps the most superlative bluegrass recordings Dolly ever cut, and they are certainly the most well-known. Although The Grass Is Blue listens as more traditional, straight-ahead bluegrass and is adored by ardent fans, the Trio albums had much larger audiences. Trio included “Those Memories,” written by Alan O’Bryant (Nashville Bluegrass Band) while Trio II credited Del McCoury (“I Feel the Blues Movin’ In”), Harley Allen (“High Sierra”), and the Seldom Scene’s John Starling (“He Rode All the Way to Texas”) as songwriters. To this day both McCoury and O’Bryant joke about their Trio cuts being their biggest hits – and McCoury will giggle as he admits he never wants to sing “I Feel the Blues Movin’ In” again after Dolly had done it. Parton’s voice always typified the ever-elusive “high lonesome sound” of bluegrass, as coined by its proverbial father, Bill Monroe, but especially so with her sharp soprano combined with the powerful belt of Ronstadt and the soft patina of Harris’s voice.

Both Trio albums have all-star bands as well, including (but not limited to) Herb Pedersen, Mark O’Connor, John Starling, and Ry Cooder (Trio) and Starling, O’Connor, Carl Jackson, David Grisman, Roy Huskey Jr., Edgar Meyer, Larry Atamanuik, and Alison Krauss (Trio II). That’s right, Krauss – in 1999 already a multiple Grammy winner with two RIAA Gold records – was a side musician on the project, playing fiddle on four of the tracks. Heartsongs also had an incredible and vast roster of bluegrass greats lending their talents: Alison Krauss, Carl Jackson, Huskey Jr., Suzanne Cox, Rhonda and Darrin Vincent, Ronnie and Rob McCoury, Randy Scruggs, Ron Block, Adam Steffey, Jerry Douglas, Viktor Krauss, and more.

On 9 To 5 And Odd Jobs, a concept album of working class songs built around “9 To 5” and released in late 1980 just before the eponymous hit film, Bobby and Sonny Osborne can be heard joining Dolly on the vocal trio on “Hush-A-Bye Hard Times,” while Sonny lends banjo elsewhere on the LP, too. Parton’s White Limozeen (1989), a cosmic crossover journey from the mountains to the discotheque and back again, was produced by Ricky Skaggs – who played guitar and mandolin on the project – and featured Béla Fleck performing its striking banjo parts, like on the delightful opening track “Time for Me To Fly.” Little Sparrow, The Grass Is Blue, and Halos & Horns have similarly deep, impressive, and virtuosic credits as the Trio projects and Heartsongs, covering vast swathes of the bluegrass scene in the ‘90s and aughts. All of your favorite bluegrassers have picked with the queen.

Parton had a habit of surrounding herself with the best in bluegrass, in the studio and on stage. On morning and late-night television appearances, or during awards show performances, Dolly would be surrounded by pickers like Sam Bush, Chris Thile, Jim Mills, Bryan Sutton, Barry Bales, Stuart Duncan, and many more. Whether promoting Heartsongs, The Grass Is Blue, Trio, Trio II – or even going far back into her career, in its earliest days – Parton brought bluegrass and its influences and textures to many millions on TV. And still many more millions all around the world with her recordings, songs, and collaborators.

It seems everyone agrees that, despite her stratospheric level of fame, Parton is remarkably down to earth, present, and accessible. Taking a sample of her many features on songs by bluegrass artists demonstrates this. An international superstar, she would still – over and over – offer up her talents and time to guest with bluegrass artists on their own recordings and releases.

“Heartbreaker’s Alibi” by Rhonda Vincent is a downright craveable modern bluegrass rager, with Parton and Vincent sharing vocal duties and harmonizing effortlessly as they loop, swirl, and embellish around each other. That would not be the only time the pair would collaborate. Parton has gone on the record more than once to gush about bluegrass singer-songwriter Claire Lynch, who sang background vocals with Dolly on The Grass Is Blue and Little Sparrow. It’s clear she’s a true fan and inhabitant of this music; Parton has also been featured on songs by the Grascals, Carl Jackson, Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers, Reneé Fleming & Béla Fleck, Ralph Stanley, Doc Watson, Earl Scruggs, and oh-so-many more. Her live television performance of “Mule Skinner Blues” with Bill Monroe is one of her most iconic videos and appearances; it’s perhaps equalled only by her reprise of the track on The Grass Is Blue – and her lovely, giggling ad lib on that recording, “I’m a lady mule skinner.”

Her many forays in and through bluegrass were never seen as interloping, and the bluegrass community would respond with near unanimous support. (Which, for bluegrass, ought to be easily rounded up to “unanimous,” with how opinionated and divided its fans can be.) Parton has been nominated for awards by the International Bluegrass Music Association six times in her career since 2000, when she won Album of the Year for The Grass Is Blue. She was also nominated for Female Vocalist of the Year then (and in 2001), but lost both years to, remarkably, Rhonda Vincent. In 2000, she appeared at the annual IBMA Awards show – hosted by her longtime friend and collaborator, Marty Stuart – in Louisville, Kentucky. Audience members, fellow nominees, and performers present that night speak about how kind, funny, and accessible she was then, too. Parton laughed and joked with Stuart at the lectern after performing a track from The Grass Is Blue, clearly right at home among her bluegrass family.

Parton has also won three IBMA Collaborative Recording of the Year awards and most recently two Gospel Recording of the Year trophies for “In the Sweet By and By” (2022, with Carl Jackson, Larry Cordle, Bradley Walker, and Jerry Salley) and “Sacred Memories” (2017, with Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers, Ricky Skaggs, and Sharon White). It’s notable that, despite all of these bluegrass bona fides and accolades, and the universal love felt for Dolly in the bluegrass community – professionally and otherwise – that she’s not been awarded a Distinguished Achievement Award by the IBMA or inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. One anonymous IBMA elector commented that, to their knowledge, she had not yet at any point even made the ballot for what’s regarded as bluegrass’s highest honor.

If Parton were to be inducted into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame, she would join Bill Monroe as the only inductees in history to be honored by the Bluegrass Music, Country Music, and Rock and Roll Halls of Fame. She is certainly deserving of that honor. While some would argue the Distinguished Achievement Award from IBMA would be a better fit, with its broader scope, it’s indisputable that Dolly Parton meets the criteria for induction into the Hall. The basic standard, the first measuring stick of the IBMA and its panel of electors by which to measure eligibility, reads thusly: “Candidates should be judged according to their contribution to the advancement of bluegrass music and the indelibility of that impact.” Indelible describes it, doesn’t it?

Dolly Parton’s impact goes still beyond her recordings, her network of pickers, her global reach, her awards, and her media appearances. She’s also been an economic driver of her own on a regional and national scale, with Dollywood booking dozens of bluegrass acts each year for their shows, festivals, and special events. It’s a rite of passage in bluegrass to perform at Dollywood, and the bluegrass and country on offer at the park by touring regional and national bands is always first rate. Bands and acts like Della Mae, Willow Osborne, Blue Highway, Sierra Hull, Flatt Lonesome, the Grascals, Hillary Klug, Dailey & Vincent, Doyle Lawson, the Boxcars, and innumerable others have played gigs at Dollywood. Plus, the park employs pickers and musicians for their entire season, local or traveling, to perform daily, some strolling the grounds with their banjos, and others in theatrical shows, revues, or straight-up string bands.

Dolly and her thousands of songs are essential to the bluegrass canon – and the greater American roots music songbook, too. Go to almost any bluegrass show, festival, or jam around the country and you’ll hear folks play her songs. “Jolene,” “9 to 5,” “Wildflowers,” “Silver Dagger,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “My Tennessee Mountain Home,” and “Smoky Mountain Memories” are just a few of her essential originals fully adopted and absorbed into the bluegrass lexicon. It’s quite the feat to be a songwriter, let alone a successful one, let alone so prolific – but to have your songs regarded as folk songs and also accepted as bluegrass standards? An even rarer feat.

Much ado is made, at length and at regular intervals, about bluegrass as a trend, or bluegrass “having a moment,” or the various bluegrass inflection points in pop culture or commercial music over its near century of history. Folks point to Old & In The Way as the best-selling bluegrass record of all time – until O Brother, Where Art Thou?, of course. Or they point out the astronomical success of Alison Krauss & Union Station, or the huge ticket sales of the post-O Brother Down From the Mountain Tour. Nowadays, we all look to Billy Strings as a harbinger of what’s possible and an indicator of how far the ceiling has been raised on bluegrass’s upper reaches.

From Deliverance or The Beverly Hillbillies, to Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers or Kesha jumping on stage with Mountain Grass Unit, to Billy Strings selling 40,000 tickets in one weekend in one city or Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival packing more than 500,000 fans into Golden Gate Park each fall, bluegrass has its “moment” often. Over and over. On a nearly predictable cycle, listeners and fans pour into this community, finding music they’ll love for the rest of their lives.

Meanwhile, Dolly Parton, one of the most recognizable figures in the entire world – and in the entire history of popular music and commercial music – had been earnestly, consistently, and subtly, despite the rhinestones and false nails and blonde wigs piled to the sky, bringing bluegrass to the masses. Among the many wildflowers she’s grown in the Smoky Mountain meadows of her career, we often lose the old-timey, mountain music, bluegrass “forest for the trees.” Parton had been a proselytizer for bluegrass for more than 70 years, before she even knew she was, and certainly, by the time she reached fame, deliberately and intentionally spreading the bluegrass gospel for the rest of her life.

Dolly Parton’s contributions to bluegrass – as a singer, a musician, a producer, an artist, a performer, a stylist, a storyteller, and as a songwriter – are vast, varied, and essential to this genre. Her love of bluegrass validated the form, and her commitment to propagating and perpetuating the music was one of the most “bluegrass” things about her. With her passing, bluegrass has lost perhaps its most consistent and beloved global ambassador.

Below, go back through the BGS archives and continue to explore Dolly Parton’s rich impact and influence on bluegrass:

Photo courtesy of the Country Music Hall of Fame ® and Museum.

Artist of the Month: Dailey & Vincent

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Since they were boys, Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent have been surrounded by music. As a child, Dailey sang with his father, who was in a gospel group. Vincent performed at a young age with his family’s bluegrass gospel band, the Sally Mountain Show (which included his older sister, Rhonda Vincent). In 1990, he joined the John Hartford Band and then, in 1996, the multi-instrumentalist and singer signed up with Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder for nearly a decade. In 1999, Dailey started his successful nine-year run in the esteemed bluegrass group Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver as a tenor and baritone vocalist, and played acoustic bass before moving into rhythm guitar.

Dailey & Vincent met at the IBMA’s annual business conference and festival in 2001 and became quick friends. One day, after having breakfast at a Cracker Barrel Old Country Store, they went to Dailey’s car to listen to a tape of a song he had written. When they sang along to it, the two realized that their voices blended together in an uncanny way. It took several years for them to leave their respective groups and officially become a duo.

Along the way, they contributed the track “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem” to a Christmas compilation and that tune hit No. 1 on the Prime Cuts of Bluegrass charts. Dailey & Vincent then scored a deal with Rounder Records based on a demo they submitted. Since 2007, they have released 11 albums (including A Beautiful Life, released in June), won multiple SPBGMA and IBMA awards, and received several GRAMMY nominations. They also host a TV series, and have attracted a devoted following for their mix of traditional and contemporary musical styles that draws upon bluegrass, country, and gospel.

From September 17 to 19, the two are again hosting their annual Dailey & Vincent Music Fest. Held in Hiawassee, Georgia, up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the festival’s lineup this year includes friends and family like Ricky Skaggs, Rhonda Vincent, and Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver, as well as Lonesome River Band, Seldom Scene, Gene Watson, and Wyatt Ellis – with Dailey & Vincent performing different sets each day.

To celebrate A Beautiful Life, we’ve named Dailey & Vincent our BGS Artist of the Month in August. Enjoy our exclusive AOTM interview with the duo below and don’t miss our Essential Dailey & Vincent Playlist, too. Plus, keep an eye on our website and social media for even more D&V content all month long.

When you all were creating your new album, A Beautiful Life, did you go in with an intention to make a certain type of album? Because your records frequently have had some type of theme or concept – like your prior release, 2022’s Let’s Sing Some Country.

Jamie Dailey: For me, it was not a themed record at all. I think Darrin and I both feel the same way. We just wanted the best songs that we could get our hands on to record. By being with Morris Higham [Management] and our manager Robert Filhart having the tie-in to the publishing companies to help us with songs, that gave us a whole new breath of life to be able to get a hold of some really great songs. And so that’s kind of how we were looking at it. We were not thinking about a theme at all.

Darrin Vincent: We’re able to create the bluegrass and the country music feel on the same record. But it’s mostly acoustically based. One of the coolest things about those elements was our management saying, “Go out and create the best songs and the best record you guys can. Don’t worry about [the album being] branded at anything or themed at anything. Just go make yourself a record.” And that’s kind of our mindset, and what we did with that encouragement.

How did you find these songs come together?

JD: Our manager, Rob Filhart … took us to Music Row and set us in publishing offices with speakers on both sides of our heads and a person across from us. They would play song after song after song, and you would listen to one and you’d be like, “No, that’s not it.” They’d play another one. “No, that’s not it.” And then a song came on and it was, “Wake up in the morning to a big orange sun/ Calling in sick, gonna have a little fun…” I thought, “Wait, wait, wait, what is that?” I want to keep listening. And it was “A Beautiful Life.”

One of the reasons that we love the song is that both of us have lived that lyric. Growing up, we have lived that lyric and still live a lot of it today. So that song touched our hearts and touched who we are as human beings. And we thought, “Man, we’ve got to record that song.”

We kept listening to more and more songs. Then they played us the song that was written by Don Schlitz and Josh Kear called “I Grew Up in Heaven.” Once again, we’re sitting there and I’m like, “I grew up in a beautiful rural area with the hills and the mountains and lakes and the rivers and bluffs and wildlife.” And I’m like, “Oh my goodness, I’ve lived this lyric” – and so has Darrin, you know? We fell in love with that. So, we thought, “Well, that’s going to be a good song.”

DV: We actually recorded 16 of the songs and those 12 [on the album] seemed to fit together the best. We got four other songs we haven’t even finished yet, but they’re great songs as well. We need to probably look at those at some point, but these really fit together well. I’m so thankful for them.

“Ruby” makes for a tremendous lead-off track. How did that get in the album?

JD: We got a call from the Grand Ole Opry, and they were going to recreate a show from 1974. They said, “We want you guys to come in and sing an Osborne Brothers song and a Jim & Jesse song and recreate a night that they were on this stage. You have to say what they said that night and you have to sing one of their songs.” They gave us choices. Darrin picked the song “Paradise” from Jim & Jesse. And I picked the song “Ruby.” I didn’t really want to sing “Ruby,” because it’s really high. It’s really fast and it’s really hard. I’m going to be honest, I was extremely intimidated by the song.

We sang the song on the stage of the Ryman Auditorium during the Grand Ole Opry. And the crowd went bonkers. I mean, bonkers from the front to the middle of the back! We thought, “What is going on?” And I simply think it was because they enjoyed watching me trying to kill myself singing. But when we came off stage we said, “Man, what a reaction! You know, it really doesn’t lend itself to the record, but people loved it so much. It might be a great opener to the record – loose and fast and high and all the things.” So, we decided to do it and lo and behold, it went No. 1 [for multiple weeks on the Bluegrass Today charts].

DV: My favorite thing is to watch Jamie kick off “Ruby” and see the people’s reaction to that. They’re just absolutely floored and that the reaction is so cool. I don’t think they’ve ever seen anything like it. It’s awesome.

The album has a good number of songs, like “A Beautiful Life,” that have a soulful, soul-feeding quality. Not just in a religious way, necessarily. Like “God’s Country,” you might think it is a religious song but it’s just about praising – praising where you come from.

JD: Yeah, and the place that I come from, everybody has different beliefs here. They have different political backgrounds. The song is for everybody. It’s not just for one set group of people. It’s for everybody because I love everybody. I mean, if you’re a nice person and try hard and treat people right, then I love you. I don’t have an issue with anybody.

When you started off as a duo, your first show was the Grand Ole Opry, right?

JD: We’ve played the Opry a lot. Darrin had played it longer than I had. But we both played the Opry a lot in other bands we’d been in. And then as Dailey & Vincent, we started our career off there. Darrin can tell you about us turning down dates just so we could play something like the Opry.

DV: Yeah, we had a manager by the name of Don Light who really, really put us under his wing and really gave us great advice. Advice we’re still using today after all these years. After we quit [working with] Ricky and Doyle, or we turned in our notice … we were getting all these offers of really good money to go out and play. Don Light said, “Boys, there’s only one first. I really believe your first [performance] needs to be at the Grand Ole Opry.” He said, “I know you all could use the money and it’s nice to have money,” but he said, “It’s more important for the longevity of you guys to make that Grand Ole Opry your first performance.”

Jamie and I agreed to it, we said no to everybody, and just kind of hung on to that. The thing of it is we weren’t promised [the Opry gig]. Pete Fisher [Opry VP/GM at the time] did not promise, “Yes, you guys can make your debut at the Grand Ole Opry.”

JD: It was a gamble.

DV: He and I took a gamble. We said no to everybody and, man, are we ever glad we did! ‘Cause we can honestly say our very first paid performances were the Grand Ole Opry. The Ryman, no less, of all stages. The birth of bluegrass music [was there], started with Bill Monroe. Isn’t that something? That’s really something!

JD: And we had to eat beanie weenies for about four months, but, you know, we’re alive now. We made it.

You both have been performing music since you were children, and been professionals for a long time. Besides having a lifelong love of music, it seems like you have a respect for the profession of being a musician.

DV: We’ve been recording records for a long time and have been on wonderful projects. Jamie grew up with his dad playing music and I did the same thing with my mom and dad. I think that my very first recording was at age five. So, we’ve been doing this a long time. I tell people this is not a hobby. It’s our job and our life and our livelihood, and man, it’s our DNA. It’s the way we grew up, and being members of the Grand Ole Opry and just being able to carry on that legacy of our family tree is really, really important. … It’s what we’ve done all of our lives. My wife, as a child, wanted to be a teacher and be in education. For us, this is our job, yes – but it’s more than that. It’s our life. I mean, this music, this record, is our life.

I think there’s some people that do it for a hobby, and that’s wonderful. But for us, our job is to get music, songs that will help people. I mean, we’re basically therapists as well. I can’t tell you the number of people that come through our line that are going through chemotherapy or some kind of issue in their life. This music is therapeutic – especially “A Beautiful Life.” I’ve had so many people come up to me and say, “That just makes me happy listening to those lyrics.” I feel like we’re sometimes musical doctors as well.

Harmony singing has always been important to you, and to the history of bluegrass. Jamie, I know the Statler Brothers were a huge influence on you. How do you see the state of harmony vocals in bluegrass music today? Is there a resurgence or are you just like holding the torch?

JD: Okay, we may have two different answers… How I’m going to answer this, I want everyone to know, I don’t mean this negative at all. This is just something that I’m seeing – and I could be wrong, okay? I’ll be the first to admit it. I am seeing more great pickers and a lot of picking now than I am, per se, a lot of great, top-notch vocal art. Now, yes, there are lots of people out there doing it, but it used to be that I saw more of that than I did a lot of the hot picking. It seems to me that’s what I’m seeing now. Folks, I could be wrong. Okay? If I am, please point me in direction so I can learn. But that’s what I’m seeing and what I’m hearing. So I found that to be interesting. Darrin, how do you feel?

DV: Yeah, you know, [Jamie] and I are always going to do four-part harmony, if possible. I never ever did four-part harmony with my family group all those years. With Ricky [Skaggs], we would have “Remember the Cross,” the Bill Monroe song, with the bassist in Ricky’s band doing the Bill Monroe quartet kind of thing. Of course, now Jamie, being with Doyle in those nine years, that was absolutely Doyle Lawson’s sound, the four-part harmony gospel. We have since moved back to three-part harmony, and we’ve been having Kyle [Ramey], our banjo player, do the bass part. I think Jamie and I will always do duets, trios, all the different types of songs, because that’s our DNA, that’s part of bluegrass’s DNA as well, all the way back to Flatt & Scruggs and Bill Monroe. It’s just something that’s part of bluegrass. I think that people need to hear that and we certainly feature that on our TV show. It’s very important and it’s just a cool thing to hear.

It also feels like you two are at an interesting traditionalist/non-traditionalist intersection, where you respect and follow some traditional leads, but also listen to your own inner voices of what you want to sound like.

JD: That has been a craw with some people on the traditional side. You know, “What are you guys? You used to be bluegrass, but we can’t really call you bluegrass. But you’re not really country, so we can’t call you that. What are you?” And all we know to tell them is: Dailey & Vincent! We sing and play the songs that we like and love. We play and sing the styles that we like and love. And we play and sing the way that we play and sing. We don’t know what that is, other than it’s just us. It’s how we think. How we breathe. It’s just who we are. And that’s not a good answer for a lot of people. They don’t like that answer, but honestly, we really don’t know how else to answer it.

You’ve finished your tenth season of your TV show. How has the TV show fit in with or affected your overall music career? Like, has it improved your live show?

JD: One of the things that I am so thankful for about the television show is, of course, we get to sing our bluegrass songs, whether they’re covers or originals that we’ve written. We get to sing a lot of the country songs that we like – original or covers. But something I have loved, it has given me the ability to sing songs like Bryan Adams’ “Heaven.” I’ve been able to sing Christopher Cross’s “Sailing.” I’ve been able to sing Sting’s “Fields of Gold.” All these old pop songs.

It’s given me an avenue to get that side of my fanboy out on all these pop songs and get to sing them and put them out. It’s interesting. When we have put them on social media, I have been very clear in my wording of, “Hey, one of the reasons we love to get to do our television show is we get to sing songs we’ve always wanted to sing, but that we never really could put on a record or necessarily really sing on a stage somewhere.” So, that has been one of the most fun parts for me. Darrin, how about you?

DV: I’ve loved being able to sing different songs and create different musical settings for different songs. Even songs that we did bluegrass, we go back into country now and just flip it around. It’s just wonderful being on the creating side of the musical side of that with these songs.

For me personally, I love all that and creating, but I’ve always been behind the vocalists in my group. It was my dad and my sister Rhonda. When I went with John Hartford, it was John. He was the frontman. He was the voice. Ricky, he was the voice. Jamie’s a great MC and a great frontman. But in our group now, I have to walk out and do more lead vocals and do more talking. And being a part of the Grand Ole Opry and this TV show has really set me to be out front, to be more of a talker. I’m more of a thinker on that side of it. Jamie is great off the cuff. I have to think about what I say and then I have to try to make it feel correct. I struggle with that.

JD: [Laughing] I probably should think about what I said!

DV: I’m not ashamed of this. I spent my whole entire life in special ed. Education was very hard for me. Being in the background is more where I like to be. I love being on the backside of things and I don’t need the spotlight. But since it’s Dailey & Vincent, Jamie and I both go out there, but those [TV show] settings have helped me to try to be more outgoing. I love that Jamie’s very outgoing. He’s such a great speaker and it has really encouraged me to try to do better at that. He’s absolutely the best, but I feel like I have grown because of those platforms to be able to speak better. My thought process goes a little quicker now and I feel more comfortable with it, and I’m sure grateful for that.

Photo Credit: Gregg Roth

Jody Stecher – Toy Heart: A Podcast About Bluegrass

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

For the latest episode of Toy Heart, we embark on a journey through the primordial musical ooze that birthed bluegrass, old-time, and country music with the incredible Jody Stecher. A multi-instrumentalist adept in many styles and traditions – he even plays sarod, a Hindustani instrument – Stecher’s entire career is a fascinating case study in the interconnectedness of American folk music styles.

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Host Tom Power begins their engaging and philosophical conversation by asking Stecher about his childhood in New York City. A grandchild of Eastern European immigrants, he “discovered” country and bluegrass like many in his generation, listening to the Wheeling Jamboree radio program on WWVA and hearing first generation pickers like the Osborne Brothers and Jimmy Martin & the Sunny Mountain Boys, including “Baby Crowe,” a young, just-hired banjo player who went by “J.D.” Soon after, Stecher replaced mandolinist (and one-day industry power player) Ralph Rinzler in bluegrass band The Greenbriar Boys, before joining another group, the New York Ramblers.

From those early years, cutting his teeth in local, regional, and eventually national outfits to iconic albums like Going Up On The Mountain and his current status as a venerated expert and acclaimed elder in American roots music, Jody Stecher utilizes music and his expertise to demonstrate how blurry the lines really are between these folk genres. Power and Stecher discuss teaching, David Grisman – and collaborating with Jerry Garcia! – meditation and music, early sounds and recordings by folks like Bill Monroe and the Stanley Brothers, being a member of Peter Rowan’s band, his duo with Kate Brislin, Utah Phillips, and so much more.

Whether you’re a lifelong fan of roots music or new to these scenes, Tom Power and Jody Stecher’s Toy Heart episode will inspire, highlighting stories, traditions, and techniques that make bluegrass, old-time, and country music exactly what they are today.

Photo Credit: Eric Thompson

7 Times Bill Monroe Did Anything But Play a Mandolin

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

If there’s a common ground most bluegrass musicians share, it’s a virtuoso mentality and an extreme level of skill. Most pickers jam on more than one instrument, and the Father of Bluegrass himself was no exception.

Born in 1911 in Rosine, Kentucky, many folks credit Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys as founders of the genre. Monroe was best known for playing mandolin, churning out driving tunes like “Uncle Pen” and “Jerusalem Ridge,” but he had quite a few other skills as well.

Let’s take a quick peek at a few of the times Bill Monroe broke his own mold and put down his classic mandolin.

Pickin’ a Pink Telecaster

In this old-school, infamous footage shot at a home jam circle, Monroe shows off “Ozark Rag.” A fellow jammer hands Monroe a pink Fender Telecaster with a black pick guard as he sets aside his mandolin. At just two-and-a-half minutes long, this clip is short, but it’s still extremely entertaining and showcases what an incredible musician Monroe was.

Buck Dancing with Ricky Skaggs

This charming clip shows Bill Monroe buck dancing while Ricky Skaggs plays a blazing guitar. The traditional dance style is popular in Appalachia and the South, and Monroe’s steps are pretty slick! Monroe also appeared in the now-iconic official music video for this hit, “Country Boy,” buck dancing in a NYC subway set alongside street dancers.

Playing an Ovation Guitar

Another YouTube throwback shows Monroe in footage from a Homespun tutorial video, playing an Ovation acoustic guitar. Like the first clip, Monroe plays “Ozark Rag,” a tune he wrote later in life.

Playing Muleskinner Blues

This clip shows Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys on the iconic Grand Ole Opry stage. Monroe kicks off “Muleskinner Blues,” which according to other concert footage, was originally debuted by Monroe on the Opry in the 1940s with Big Mon picking guitar, rather than mandolin.

Singing with the Osborne Brothers

In this clip, Monroe leaves the mandolin playing to recently-departed Bobby Osborne of the Osborne Brothers at the Berkshire Mountains Bluegrass Festival. Instead, he provides backup vocals on the gospel number, “I Hear a Sweet Voice Calling.”

Dancing with Emmylou Harris

Like the other buck-dancing clip, Monroe comes out on stage to show off his traditional dance skills — but this time, with a friend! Here, he takes to the stage with singer-songwriter and fellow dancer Emmylou Harris. The pair even do a little do-si-do as Harris dances in cowboy boots.

Playing an Acoustic Guitar

From the plethora of online footage, it’s pretty clear Monroe loved picking “Ozark Rag,” and preferred to do so on guitar. This video is a clip taken from the longer concert above. It was made in 1994 – Monroe died in 1996.

 

Remembering Bobby Osborne on Toy Heart

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

On a special edition of Toy Heart, we remember Bluegrass Music Hall of Famer, Grand Ole Opry member, seven-time Grammy Award nominee, CMA Award winner, and roots music legend Bobby Osborne.

“This is what I started with when I was 15 years old,” Osborne says as the episode begins. “Ain’t never quit, ain’t going to now… If He calls me home, I’ll give it up quick.”

He succeeded– he never quit. When Osborne died on June 27 at the age of 91, he still had future shows and appearances on his calendar. He had performed on the Opry as recently as May 19 of this year with the Rocky Top X-press, the band he formed when his older brother and bandmate, iconic banjo player Sonny Osborne, retired from their duo – and from touring and performing – in the early 2000s.

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Toy Heart host Tom Power (CBC Radio’s Q) visited with Osborne at his home in Gallatin, Tennessee in the summer of 2022, a handful of months after Sonny’s passing. The conversation that resulted covers Bobby’s experiences within the earliest days of bluegrass (like having performed with the Stanley Brothers and Jimmy Martin), the conception and popularity of the Osborne Brothers’ signature harmony style (and how Bobby’s voice changed higher rather than lower), and his service in the U.S. Marine Corps and the harrowing experience that resulted in his earning a Purple Heart in Korea. They discuss Bobby’s broad impact and influence – even Bob Dylan was a fan – and iconic Osborne Brothers songs like “Ruby,” “Roll Muddy River,” and yes, “Rocky Top,” too.

Upon the loss of such a gigantic figure in this music we are so grateful for the time we got to spend with Bobby Osborne and for how accessible he made himself to all of us in bluegrass. His enormous legacy will live on, well into the future, and we’ll never forget the music, stories, and laughs he so readily shared with all of us, especially in this Toy Heart episode, one of Bobby’s last long-form interviews.

Editor’s note: Toy Heart will be returning in the fall of 2023 for its second season. Stay tuned.

Kristin Scott Benson Shares Her Essential ’80s Bluegrass Banjo Tracks

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

I started playing banjo in 1989 and like most people, once I was hooked, I devoured all the banjo I could find. In my quest for the latest, coolest bluegrass, I ended up covering most of the music recorded in the ’80s. It took years to discover because (brace yourself, kids) there was no streaming or internet to bring it to us. We found music by buying CDs, listening to friends’ CDs, going to shows, and trial and error. In this list, I tried to represent the successful bands and players from the decade, who were recording music just before I fell in love with banjo.

Seeing Scott Vestal with Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver is what made me want to play, so his “Up on the Blue Ridge” is of special significance. I played along with Bill Emerson’s instrumental album, Home of the Red Fox, for countless hours. Sonny’s cut on “Listening to the Rain” (sung by Paul Brewster) is still a bit mystifying. I was sure I had two of these key phrases exactly right, but Sonny never thought I did. Shocking, I know. Thing is, he wasn’t entirely sure how he played them either.

Some of my favorite current music from formative years just missed the deadline, like Alison Brown’s “Simple Pleasures,” which was released in 1990, but I tried to stick with the ’80s only. I love these banjo players, bands, and songs. To this day, if I get sleepy driving in the middle of the night, I can turn on this music and get a second wind. I hope you enjoy these 19 glimpses into the ’80s. — Kristin Scott Benson

We’re giving away a Recording King Songster Banjo in honor of Banjo Month! Enter to win your very own RK-R20 here.

Bluegrass Memoirs: ‘Industrial Strength Bluegrass’ and the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion (Part 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Editor’s note: Read part one of Industrial Strength Bluegrass and the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion here

In 1987 I became involved with CityFolk’s Dayton Bluegrass Reunion, “An All-Star Salute to Dayton’s 40 Year Bluegrass History.” Between October 1987 and March 1989, I worked by mail and telephone to help shape the Reunion, planned for April 1989. 

While this was to be called a “concert,” executive producer Phyllis Brzozowska envisioned it from the start as musical theater. I liked her idea — I’d long thought of bluegrass that way. My experience on the stage started at age 12, in a little theater company production of Our Town, Thornton Wilder’s 1938 Pulitzer Prize-winning play about a small community in the early 20th century. Wikipedia describes the play this way:

“Wilder uses metatheatrical devices, setting the play in the actual theatre where it is being performed. The main character is the stage manager of the theatre who directly addresses the audience.”

In Dayton, playwright Don Baker would have a role like that of the stage manager in Our Town, acting the part of a loquacious emcee, telling the story of the Dayton bluegrass community. He would work from a script that Larry Nager was writing. As he spoke, a screen behind him would show slides relating to the narrative’s cultural and historical points.

The concert was divided into seven acts, “Segment/Settings” of 12 to 15 minutes. Each featured a different group of musicians and had room for three to five songs and an encore. Don’s narrations opened each act. Planning reflected concerns about the content and sequence of the acts. How was forty years of artistic ferment to be represented? 

When I spoke of the project to my bluegrass buddies, the first question was always “Will the Osborne Brothers reunite with Red Allen?” This 1957 show gives a good portrait of the band’s sound and repertoire — cutting-edge bluegrass of its era:

As the bluegrass festival movement ramped up in the ’70s, Allen and the Osbornes occasionally crossed paths. The Osbornes were doing well on the country charts with songs like “Rocky Top” that featured Bobby’s solo and trio high lead:

Allen, considered one of the classic bluegrass lead singers, had gone on to work in several good bands. He still approached audiences as he had in Dayton bars. Larry Nager explains: “Red loved the spotlight, making the crowds laugh (often at jokes more fitting for a stag party than a bluegrass club)” (Industrial Strength Bluegrass p.89). An on-stage festival reunion with the Osbornes had been tried, didn’t work out, and was now out of the question. 

Who else would be in the concert? At the start planners thought in terms of contrasts in categories like venues (working-class bars; upscale nightspots, colleges), audiences (industrial working-class Appalachian migrants, yuppies, college kids), and radio (country, folk).

As we’ll see later, these categories overlapped; that’s what gave the region’s bluegrass such vibrancy. Beyond categories lay personal dimensions: certain bands and musicians were like oil and water. The production committee faced artists’ and fans’ differing perspectives, values, and priorities. Terms bandied about during production meetings included “First Generation, Second Generation, Urban” and so on. 

Another planning challenge: the concert featured some working bands, each on their own professional trajectory. But as a reunion it also featured retired individuals and groups. 

The final concert performance sequence reflected our work to keep tension levels low, make things flow, and illustrate the artistic collaborations that had come out of this cultural scene. 

My primary task was writing the introduction for the program, seeking to explain why CityFolk was presenting hillbilly music as heritage.

I was assisted by Barb Kuhns and Larry Nager, who were writing artist bios and gathering illustrations for the program. Musician and producer Nager knew the history from the inside, as his chapter, “Sing Me Back Home: Early Bluegrass Venues in Southwestern Ohio” in Industrial Strength Bluegrass (pp. 77-100) attests. Kuhns, professional librarian and fiddler with the Corndrinkers, an old-time group, had been active in promoting the music of some of the lesser-known pioneers in the local scene of which she’d been part for many years. 

With just over a month to go until the show in April, I spent a March weekend in Dayton helping the planning production staff finalize concert details.

In early April CityFolk sent news to the press of the coming event. “Dayton show will reflect Kentucky bluegrass roots” was the title of a 12-paragraph story in Sunday’s Louisville Courier-Journal, Kentucky’s equivalent of the New York Times. On Wednesday, the Dayton Downtowner, a weekly, carried two stories, and on Friday the Dayton Daily News (a supporter of the event) ran two generous stories.

On Friday night April 22, 1989, each of the concert goers who filled Memorial Hall — a Beaux-art national historic site (1907) of 2500 seats in downtown Dayton — received a 16-page 8 ½ x 11 program. Its cover duplicated the concert’s posters.

On the first page was Phyllis Brzozowka’s introduction. Next, an essay by former Dayton newspaperman Tom Teepen, who told the evocative story of his experiences with the music in Dayton. 

My piece, “Industrial Strength Bluegrass,” filled the next four pages. Then came seven photo-packed pages devoted to “The Artists”: Paul “Moon” Mullins and Traditional Grass, Noah Crase and the Valley Ramblers, The Hotmud Family, The Allen Brothers, Red Allen, The Dry Branch Fire Squad, Larry Sparks and Wendy Miller, Frank Wakefield, David Harvey, and the Osborne Brothers. 

The booklet closed with several pages of lists: a “Selected Discography” including addresses for local and national retailers; planning production staff; thanks for assistance; CityFolk staff; board of trustees. Its endpapers were a map of southern Ohio, with portions of Indiana, Kentucky, and West Virginia. A lot to look at while waiting for the curtain to rise!

Behind the curtain, Baker’s Lime Kiln workers provided lighting and a stage manager. I was part of the backstage crew. And the sound was something else! Afterwards Phyllis wrote:

Pete Reineger, from the National Council for the Traditional Arts and a local crew…ran an equivalent of 4 stages with 36 open microphones throughout the performance.

I have been unable to locate any recordings of this event — no tape, no video. I saved a copy of Baker’s stage directions, which lay out the concert’s sequence. But Larry Nager’s script for his narrative, which told the history of Dayton bluegrass in seven segments, one for each act, no longer exists. In it, he recalled, Don’s role was that of “the omniscient voice of the hillbilly diaspora.” 

Though the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion is now a lost play, its structure can be seen from Baker’s stage directions. However, because I was busy bustling around backstage, I didn’t know how the concert was going over with the audience until later. 

The reunion began with an introduction by Phyllis, following that came sounds from offstage, described in the stage directions as:

Halsey & Meyers Commercial 

Radio Rap — Moon Mullins.

Halsey Myers is still a going concern. Joe Mullins says that the Traditional Grass, the band he worked in with his father Moon from 1983 to 1995, recorded a radio commercial for this Middletown hardware store. It was so popular they got requests for it at personal appearances. Joe and his son Daniel found an old cassette recording of the ad followed by an example of Moon’s colorful on-air WPFB persona:

These radio clips would have been familiar to many in the audience who knew the local bluegrass scene. Paul “Moon” Mullins was the true loquacious voice of Appalachian migrant music — bluegrass — in southwest Ohio. 

As the curtains opened Baker took the stage to tell the story of Mullins and the music. Photos synced to the script appeared on a screen behind him. Some were of Dayton musicians and venues, while others evoked a variety of historical and geographical milieus ranging from Dayton to national and international.

Baker’s light dimmed and focus shifted to the other side of the stage, where Mullins and his band, The Traditional Grass, were highlighted. Mullins had come to Dayton from Kentucky in 1964 to take a job as a DJ at WPFB, a Middletown country station that had been a bluegrass center in the 40s and 50s. Jimmy Martin, the Osborne Brothers and many others had performed there. The short-lived Martin-Osborne band’s hit trio “20/20 Vision” from those days is recreated by Dan Tyminski on the new Smithsonian Folkways album, Industrial Strength Bluegrass: 

In the mid-’60s WPFB had dropped bluegrass but Mullins brought it back. He’d started his radio and musical careers (he’d fiddled with the Stanley Brothers) in eastern Kentucky. Migrant audiences in southwestern Ohio bonded with him. He revitalized the music at WPFB and began playing with local bands. 

I first saw his name in June 1968 when we were both on the flyer for Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Festival at Bean Blossom, Indiana. I was in the banjo workshop (with Ralph Stanley, Dave Garrett, Bobby Thompson, Vic Jordan, and Larry Sparks); “Paul Mullins, WPFB Radio, Middletown, Ohio” was emcee for the Saturday shows, co-hosting on Sunday with Grant Turner of the Grand Ole Opry.

Twenty-one years later, on the evening of the Reunion, Mullins had recently left WPFB. He’d started The Traditional Grass in 1983 (they would continue until 1995); it included his son Joe, who was singing tenor, picking banjo, and following his dad’s footsteps in radio. Guitarist Mark Rader was the lead singer, and Glenn “Cookie” Inman, bassist. They opened with “Weary Lonesome Blues,” a popular Delmore Brothers song from 1937:

After three more songs, everyone except Moon left the stage and he was joined by members of The Valley Ramblers, a band he’d co-founded with Noah Crase in the late ’60s. Crase was a highly respected banjo player, a former Blue Grass Boy best-known for “Noah’s Breakdown,” the tune that started Bill Keith on his exploration of melodic banjo. 

Editor’s note: Read part one of Industrial Strength Bluegrass and the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion here

Neil V. Rosenberg would like to thank Barb Kuhns, Daniel and Joe Mullins, and Larry Nager

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

Photo of Rosenberg: Terri Thomson Rosenberg

The BGS Radio Hour – Bluegrass Duets, New & Old

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Every week for the past few years, we’ve brought you a radio show, and now podcast, revisiting all the great music recently featured on the pages of BGS. This week, we bring you a special episode for our Duos of Summer series — a musical recap of our 2019 collection of the 22 Best Bluegrass Duos.

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We’re listening to some of these classic duos, and exploring bluegrass’ longstanding and continuing tradition of wonderful duet harmony, be it sibling or otherwise. And while most fans of the genre may recognize names like Flatt & Scruggs or the Monroe Brothers, here you’ll also find newer acts that are following the path laid by those hall-of-famers.

Head to the original story to explore the full list while you listen!

MIXTAPE: Crowder’s Simple Yet Complex Bluegrass Playlist

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

“I think my favorite description of bluegrass music is from Bill Monroe: ‘It’s Scottish bagpipes and ole-time fiddlin’. It’s Methodist and Holiness and Baptist. It’s blues and jazz, and it has a high lonesome sound.’ It is that and more to me. It is simple and complex. It is death and life. It is impossible to put together anything close to a definitive playlist of such things so here are a few songs I really like.” — Crowder

“A Far Cry” – Del McCoury Band

Del McCoury is the epitome of the progressive conservation of that “high lonesome” sound.

“Angel Band” – Stanley Brothers

This is it for me. An old gospel song from a poem originally titled “My Latest Sun Is Sinking Fast.”

“The Prisoner’s Song” – Bill Monroe

This origin of this song goes back to the beginning of recorded “hillbilly” music and nothing better than the Father of Bluegrass’ take on it with electric guitar, piano, and drums. Heretical!

“Ruby” – Osborne Brothers

Those falsetto jumps and holds, if you’re not smiling we can’t be friends.

“Shady Grove” – Ricky Skaggs

Mr. Skaggs is one of my favorite humans ever made and he and Kentucky Thunder slay this traditional Appalachian courtin’ song that’s found its way into the repertoire of all the greats.

“Walls of Time” – Bill Monroe

A classic written by Monroe and Peter Rowan, but not recorded until after Rowan left the group. The lyrics are perfectly haunting.

“Freeborn Man” – Jimmy Martin

“King of Bluegrass” after the addition of Gloria Belle. That female vocal sitting above Martin’s cutting tenor is supreme.

“Mama’s Hand” – Hazel Dickens

Known for her singing style as well as her advocate songs for coal miners and the working folk and to be one of the first women to record a bluegrass album. This song tells the story of the day she left her family’s home in West Virginia.

“Carry Me Across The Mountain” – Dan Tyminski

This guy is legend. Popping into the universal ethos and consciousness of popular culture every so often, from his updated version of “Man of Constant Sorrow” to vocal feature on Avicii’s international hit “Hey Brother.”

“Blue Train” – Nashville Bluegrass Band

I love how these guys incorporate black gospel and spirituals. Just a line as simple as “coming for to carry me” brings with it the momentum and mass of a locomotive.

“Salty Dog Blues” – Flatt and Scruggs

The original meaning of “salty dog” comes from rubbing salt into the coat of your dog as a flea repellent. That infers that a “salty dog” would be your favorite person or your best friend. I like that.

“Oh, Death” – Ralph Stanley

No vocalist will ever fit a song more perfectly.

“The Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane” – Fiddlin’ John Carson

The first “hillbilly” song ever recorded with vocals and lyrics. When I moved to Atlanta I landed in Cabbagetown on Carroll Street living in the Fulton Bag and Cotton Mill that he and his children worked in. That’s as close as I’ve ever come to greatness.

Photo credit: Eric Brown

High Fidelity: A Natural Feel for Traditional Bluegrass

Posted on by Editor

It must be closing in on ten years since I first met Corrina Rose Logston Stephens, when she and I were both recruited into Retro & Smiling, a band devoted to the musical legacy of first generation Bluegrass Hall of Famers Don Reno and Red Smiley and their Tennessee Cut-Ups. Soon after that, the southwest Illinois native entered the music business program at Nashville’s Belmont University and began to establish herself as a formidable talent in the city’s bluegrass community.

In 2014, while working with a variety of bluegrass acts, including pioneering mandolinist (and Hall of Fame member) Jesse McReynolds, she and a couple of favorite colleagues—multi-instrumentalists Jeremy Stephens (whom she married that April) and Kurt Stephenson—did a little recruiting of their own in order to enter the long-running band competition at the Society for the Preservation of Blue Grass Music in America’s annual confab. With the addition of yet another multi-instrumentalist, Daniel Amick, and bassist Vickie Vaughn, High Fidelity won the contest, and a self-released album followed in 2016. The next year, the quintet signed with Rebel Records, and has now released their label debut.

Hills And Home is a stunning collection that, perhaps more than any other self-described traditional project, reveals the breadth of bluegrass music’s early years; it even features twin banjos, a rarity last featured a decade ago on Tony Trischka’s award-winning Double Banjo Bluegrass Spectacular, but once favored by artists like the Osborne Brothers and Eddie Adcock & Don Reno. And while there are a few familiar numbers, much of the album consists of relatively obscure works, like the Lilly Brothers & Don Stover’s “I Would Not Be Denied,” all rendered with an exquisite attention to detail that amplifies, rather than stifles, the fresh and compelling energy of High Fidelity’s approach.

As an enthusiastic fan of Corrina’s playing, I was curious to know whether she was wholly devoted to older styles of bluegrass, or whether the originality that was at the center of her senior thesis recording was still on her mind—and that’s where our conversation began.

You made an album of your own while you were at Belmont called Wind Caught My Bike, that was mostly originals written and played in a contemporary vein. And your album after that, Bluegrass Fiddler, was traditional. So are you still writing in a less traditional, more contemporary vein?

I am, I definitely am. But being a stylist in the sense of being able to separate styles and articulate those styles accurately has always been important to me, and something that I’ve admired. The person who I’d say is my biggest mentor, Jim Buchanan, he’s excellent at doing that; he can play like Jascha Heifetz, and then play Stéphane Grappelli, and then play some hoedown—and it all sounds different. Seeing that, being around people like him and Jeremy and Kurt made me want to do that. I wanted everything I did to be authentic, and only when I wanted to blend them, then I wanted that to happen; I didn’t want to be some mish-mash of things just because of my carelessness. But when I write, it’s just an outflow of [who] I am—a combination of all those influences. And there are no limitations on it, unless I want there to be.

Many of the musicians featured on the Bluegrass Situation are very eclectic, and it feels natural for these musicians to take elements from different kinds of music and put them together. And what I hear you saying is that you’re oriented more toward feeling that you want to be respectful of the integrity of a style; that’s what I hear you saying when you talk about being authentic. It’s a way of putting yourself into, rather than drawing from, that style. What’s attractive about that for you?

I am extremely detail-oriented. Everybody has to reign me in! So I think, why does this sound like this era of bluegrass and this person playing it, and why does that not necessarily. And if I want to convey a sound, then I have to abide by its specifics. I feel there’s a lot of power in being able to understand and articulate those things. You have people like Chris Thile, who understand those things and choose to put them together—as I do, in different situations—but I was always attracted to the first generation stuff, just probably because of how I grew up. And as I became closer friends with Kurt and Jeremy—I was 14 when I started playing in 2004, and I met Kurt in 2007 and Jeremy in 2009, and we were friends before we got serious dating—I saw them being able to segment that stuff, and that was always appealing to me.

High Fidelity is doing all old songs, but they’re by artists who sounded different from each other. Where do you locate yourselves between reinterpreting the song, which could be anything, and recreating the record?

I think the biggest thing is that there’s no formula, it’s all a feel thing. Somebody said—it could have been Chris Thile—that if you want to copy somebody, you should try it and see what happens, because you’re not going to end up sounding exactly like them. I, and I’m sure Kurt and Jeremy, have been in that place where you’re thinking, “I’m going to sound exactly like them.” Which is way harder than just saying, “Oh, this sounds like that to me.” So in High Fidelity, when we do “I Would Not Be Denied,” I’m not trying to sound exactly like the Lilly Brothers, or sing exactly like them, but I listen to what they’re doing, and I pull the highlights out of it.

High Fidelity’s sort of the convergence of that with many other added things, because Daniel and Vickie come from totally different places. Kurt and Jeremy and I grew up listening to it, and then Daniel and Vickie grew up listening to and playing music, too, but not the dyed-in-the-wool traditional bluegrass. And so they pull things out of different places. I think it’s a natural process, where you take in those influences, but you don’t obsess over sounding exactly like them, but you allow them to inform what you’re doing—and with your own constraints imposed of what you believe traditional bluegrass from that era sounds like, then something comes out that’s really interesting.

I feel blessed that High Fidelity has found this in a really natural way. I’ve never tried to sound like a man when I’m singing, but I listen to the timbre of the tenor singers’ voices, and I see that I need to push more with High Fidelity—much more than I do when I do my own thing. When I do my own thing, it’s just a natural outflow. So what ends up happening is that I don’t sound like I’m trying to sound like a man, but I’m trying to tap into the essence of bluegrass tenor singing. And then people are like “whoa, this is a girl singing this,”—and there are lots of things in High Fidelity that are interesting elements. Like when you look at a picture of us and then you listen to the music, there are some mind things that happen!

You’re strong in your faith, and in your musical preferences, and yet you guys are very much a part of a bigger musical and social community that’s built around bluegrass and the like.

Musically, that doesn’t ever seem like it’s an issue, because we each have a very diverse palette of what we like. Kurt plays with his wife, Andrea, and they do much more contemporary music—and of course, the things that I do are off the spectrum of insanity! Jeremy is also really rooted in old-time music, and he’s done a lot of commercial stuff with Ray Stevens, and things like that. I think there’s a stigma of, if you’re a traditional band, you don’t like any of that other stuff. But that’s not us at all. We went and played ROMP last year, and that was awesome; we didn’t feel weird there. We were proud and honored to be ambassadors for traditional music that day. So I don’t think we feel awkward about that; we love all these things.

And as far as our faith is concerned, the fact that we are all Christian people was just a coincidence that happened in putting the band together, and it was really cool. Because we were, wow, we can all approach these songs of the same mind. Which, other than Jeremy working with the Chuck Wagon Gang, is something that we had never really experienced in bluegrass band situations.

So the fact that we’re all Christians, and our example is Jesus…Jesus was out there doing stuff with everyone. There was nobody that was off-limits to him. And he said to go out there in the world and do stuff; be an example. That is a motivator for us, because we see ourselves as being a young traditional band, that are Christian, that are out there doing what we feel we’re called to be doing—being out there in the world. That’s what we feel the Bible says we’re supposed to do. So none of that ever really feels awkward as far as being part of the greater music community.

What do you guys hope that releasing this record will do for you?

The cool thing is that we started off doing what High Fidelity does because we just wanted to do it. We didn’t care what anyone thought. We thought it would be a sideline, cool, fun project, a recreational thing to supplement our musical endeavors. We never thought we were going to have a second record. And then people responded to it, and Rebel Records approached us, and we were like, wow, maybe we should do this.

Believe it or not, we had an existential crisis before this record. We felt like we’d pulled all the stops for the first one. Jeremy had had his little keepsake pile of songs forever, and he was like, “I’ve used all the gems, what are we going to do?” So we got to digging through stuff, and we amassed a bunch of stuff and sorted through it.

I say all that to say, we’ve really come with no expectations but to do what we wanted to do. And we’re satisfying ourselves musically in that way. One thing we never really focused on was putting ourselves out there. That’s always the burden of the musician, to have to do the business things. I love independently releasing things, and that’s very satisfying, but I know there’s a lot of things that come with having a record company behind you. Rebel has been amazing and I’ll never look at any of this the same way again. So I hope that the record gets us out there for people to know who we are, and I hope High Fidelity continues being a thing that grows. Before, it was a sideline thing, but it never stayed there. It just went like a rocket ship, and I hope the trajectory continues.

Photo credit (lead image): Warren Swann
Photo credit (within story): Russ Carson