Tag: Ralph Stanley

Dale Ann Bradley Hears the Truth in ‘The Hard Way’

Posted on by Editor

Dale Ann Bradley has made a lasting impression with bluegrass listeners as a solo artist, as well as a member of the all-female band Sister Sadie. And before that, she recorded and performed with the New Coon Creek Girls in Renfro Valley, Kentucky, where she established a foundation that would carry to her multiple performances on the Grand Ole Opry and five IBMA awards in the female vocalist category.

An approachable artist who describes her audiences as “my people,” Bradley is quick to admit that her musical path hasn’t always been easy – in fact, her new album is named The Hard Way, a nod to the Jim Croce song she covers, “The Hard Way Every Time.” But in spite of that title, it’s a beautifully subdued project that stands among the most satisfying of the Kentucky native’s long career. That’s as much due to her gentle singing as her gift for finding songs that suit her.

Bradley invited the Bluegrass Situation to chat prior to a Nashville show earlier this month at the Station Inn.

BGS: I wanted to start by asking about the production on this record, because to me it sounds very crisp. It seems like there’s a “less is more” approach.

Bradley: It is. I have learned, on some things, that’s the correct approach. This one’s more guitar-oriented than a lot of them I’ve done – since [1997’s] East Kentucky Morning. Because I had such good guitarists play, it really didn’t need to be souped up. And the lyrics are so story-telling that the song, and the great musicians that I had, found their own way and their own place to be. … This is the third one I’ve produced and I’m always scared to death! I never take that for granted because it’s just like painting a picture or having a young’un! [Laughs] You don’t know what’s going to happen.

What is it about production that makes you want to keep coming back into that role?

If I want to try something, to able to do it. Even though I know that sometimes it works and sometimes it don’t. I have the utmost respect for any producer that I’ve had because I’ve had the best there is. … From Sonny Osborne, I learned that a good performance is a lot better than everything being technically perfect. He drilled that into my head – it’s all about emotion. With Tim Austin, I learned drive and punch with the guitar, and he helped me a lot with my guitar playing. And with Alison Brown, I learned not to be afraid of creativity. Put it down, and if it works, it works. And if it don’t, then you’ll know not to do it the next time. She’s so creative. I’ve worked with three different producers with three different outlooks, and learned from all of them.

“The Hard Way Every Time” is a beautiful song, with a lot of truth in there.

It is for me. The generation that I come from, we’re all at that point where we’re looking back, and we think, “Well, I sure did that the hard way.” Kept doing it and kept doing it. I hope it reaches a young generation. It seems to be, but I think there’s something in there hopefully for everybody.

How do you find the songs you want to record?

All the memories… I may not be able to recall what I had for lunch or breakfast, but a song will stay with me. Songs that have been poignant in my life have been so much so that I’m never going to forget them. I don’t cut cover tunes just to be different. I do it because it shows how talented these musicians are. … And I want to show that in music it doesn’t really matter what genre it is. If it really breaks your heart or makes you happy, it’s all good. Then there are songs that I want to do in the bluegrass style because I didn’t want to do them in the other style.

I’ve often thought that there might not be any song that’s off limits for you. Is that true?

Well, it was close this time. I’ve never been as scared as I was with “Wheel in the Sky.” I really belabored it. Everybody was saying, “Let’s cut it,” but what do you do after Steve Perry’s cut something? Or Journey’s played it, you know? Then I got to looking at it some more. That was probably the last song that I picked. And I got to listening to those lyrics, and I thought, Bill Monroe would have wrote that: “Winter’s here again, O Lord…”

And I’ve done that with other songs, like “Summer Breeze.” The lyrics are just about life and emotions, and it’s important to me. I love novelty, funny little songs but I just really like the ones that have a message, or maybe leave one.

How did the guitar come to be your instrument?

It was probably going to be the only one that I had any possibility of getting. I would have loved to have had a banjo and mandolin, but I finally got a little ol’ cardboard, classical-style guitar that somebody ordered from a catalog. I knew I might get that one if I pressed enough. If I pressed too hard, I wasn’t going to get nothing! But I had a love for it. And still do.

I never was around anybody that played, is the thing. I had a friend who was my age, and we wrote songs together. He was very talented and he didn’t play bluegrass-style. He was a Jim Croce fan, so he would play that and I was so mesmerized, but that was the only guitar influence I had until I came to Renfro Valley. They were all seasoned Central Kentucky musicians and I learned so much from them.

You were at Renfro Valley for years, and then you became a bandleader. What do you remember most about that time? What was that transition like for you?

It was a transition that had to take place, before I would have ever gotten out of the community I was from. I learned a lot about the history. I learned Bradley Kincaid songs and who Bradley Kincaid was, and how Renfro Valley is such a treasure. I loved it and I got to perform country and gospel. I started singing traditional country there, and then the entertainment director would let me do traditional bluegrass songs with the country band. And that worked out good.

When that position with the Coon Creek Girls came open, I was tickled to death to get that. … Renfro Valley is in “The Hard Way Every Time.” Major, maybe over 50 percent! [Laughs] But I learned, and I’m thankful now that I learned those hard life lessons with good people that had hearts. I was thrilled to work there. The talent there in the late ‘80s and ‘90s – I’m telling you, it was as good as you’d hear anywhere.

And then you decided you wanted to be in front, and go on tour?

Well, what happened was, the Coon Creek Girls had been together for years and everybody got married and had babies. I still didn’t want to step completely out, so we called it Dale Ann Bradley and Coon Creek. And then things changed from there, and I signed with Compass, and then it grew its way into me totally being responsible. [Laughs] Good, bad, and indifferent!

What is some of the best business advice you’ve ever gotten.

[Laughs] Don’t spend your money! Cut corners, but not so much where you make somebody uncomfortable. But when you can, cut corners. Don’t buy what you can’t pay for. And work hard. Respect your money. I had to learn that the hard way, too — that’s the other 50 percent of The Hard Way!

Who would you say are some of your heroes?

Oh, Dolly Parton of course. I loved John Duffey and John Starling. What got me really hooked on bluegrass was that I’d hear Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe on the radio — and Lester and Earl on The Beverly Hillbillies when I got to see that. Dolly was a hero, and the Seldom Scene, The Country Gentlemen, Charlie Waller, so many in the country field, too. Dolly could do anything. Bluegrass was naturally there, with her being 80 miles across the mountain from where I was from. And I loved Glen Campbell – he was another one that could do everything. So many that you can’t name.

So many of those artists you named have an incredible ear for a song.

They do, and it’s a gift that they can sing anything. And I adore Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, and Ray Charles. You can’t stay on this earth and get any better than that.

You’ve won some IBMA Awards, and Sister Sadie earned a Grammy nomination this year. I would imagine that aspiring musicians may look to you as a role model. Do you see yourself that way?

Well, I don’t feel that I’m even worthy enough to put myself up as a role model. But if they like this style of music, I want to be somebody that makes them unafraid to express themselves. And I’ve always tried to treat people as good as I can. In those two ways, I hope that I am. In other ways, everyone’s got to walk their own journey, you know?

The IBMA Awards now have women winning the instrumental categories. As a woman in bluegrass yourself, what does an accomplishment like that mean to you?

Well, obviously it’s good that the mindset has changed, in order to really study the female musicians because some of them are quite great. The thing that worries me a little bit is that I don’t want it to matter if it’s male or female, if you’re a good player. I know so many females who are wonderful players and I don’t think we should get it just because we’re women. Let’s get it on our playing and our accomplishments. I don’t get into that (mentality of) “you’ve got to let me play because I’m a girl!” [Laughs] I’ve never been thrown out of a jam session, but I ain’t been in too many either.

Do you see a difference from when you started until now?

Definitely. I see girls cutting their gig, is what I see. Learning. And playing and singing and writing. I do see a female presence strongly coming in there. There was a time of course, I know not so very long ago: “Well… girls can’t sing bluegrass.” Now that needed to go!

I’d like to see the festival scene open those doors more.

Yeah, they’ve moved up to about two girl acts. And I didn’t really realize that was the case, because in the ‘80s and ‘90s, the Coon Creek Girls were the girl act. [Laughs] And I thought, “We’re getting hired, what’s the problem?” “Well, you’re the only girls!” [Laughs]

Going back to the title of this record for a second, I know there’s a lot of hard work that goes into a career like yours. But what would you say is the reward in that?

Oh gosh. There’s been so many. The reward was that I was able to do it. I was able to sing from the very first venue until now. I got the opportunity to sing and to write and to express myself in a musical way. I’ve met the most precious angels — and a lot of musicians have. They’re angels themselves. So many good friends that have been so good and gracious and merciful to me. And along with that, it provided a way for me to support myself and my son. That’s the reward. That right there is everything.

Photo credit: Pinecastle Records

MIXTAPE: Gangstagrass’ Standard Setters

Posted on by Editor

As purveyors of genre crossing, we like to recognize standouts within a genre that innovated simply by epitomizing a sound with particular skill: tracks that demonstrated what virtuosity could do within a genre, that pushed the genre to new heights (or at least new places) for us, tracks that maybe we used to judge what came afterward. We could list a lot of classics, but this list is really about the tracks that were the standard setters for each of us personally, making a mark in how we thought about a genre or sound. For our Mixtape, we selected a few songs and described the impact the tracks made. — Gangstagrass

Flatt & Scruggs – “Foggy Mountain Special”

Earl’s fast, regular picking in songs like “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” made his three-finger rolls, like the Foggy Mountain roll, iconic. But this heavily-swung tune, while not a slow song by any standard, really explores the bluesy side of bluegrass banjo. The syncopated banjo kick, with the band entering on the second beat, throws off the listener’s perception of time. The main lick itself deserves to be as iconic as any fast-flowing Scruggs roll. And that solo! From the single-string bends to that chromatic octave line, Earl knows to keep playing it just a little bit longer. You couldn’t go back and redo any part of this any better, not in a hundred years. They nailed it.

Norman Blake and Tony Rice – “Little Beggarman/Gilderoy”

Tony Rice sounds his best on duo albums, whether it’s with country superstar Ricky Skaggs on a journey to reconnect with his bluegrass roots, or songster Norman Blake, whose clear-as-a-stream picking and earnest vocals are augmented by Tony’s unparalleled rhythm work and rich baritone. On this instrumental track, guitar and mandolin trade breaks and, unusually, trade tunes. Because they’re both in A, with similar chords and melodies, you almost don’t notice the transition, except that the tune Blake plays on mandolin is minor, while Tony’s guitar tune is major. It’s a beautiful, subtle effect that showcases both artists and enhances the sound of each instrument.

The Steeldrivers – “Ghosts of Mississippi”

Before Chris Stapleton was Chris Stapleton, he was in a band called the Steeldrivers. The mainstream music audience has rightly picked up on his powerful vocals and formidable songwriting, but arguably his best work has been with this band that gave him a perfect setting. From the smoldering growl of the banjo to the searing whine of the fiddle, the sound has not been surpassed by either Stapleton’s pop work or by any other bluesy bluegrass band. This track in particular sets the bar, serving up equal parts groove, emotion, and one hell of a catchy melody.

Béla Fleck and the Flecktones – “Hole in the Wall”

The Flecktones represent Béla’s furthest ventures outside traditional bluegrass, and this late track on their second album, Flight of the Cosmic Hippo, is a representative example of their early sound. Of note, Howard Levy’s keys get more room than on most other tracks which tended to feature more of his admittedly superlative harmonica work. Near the end, there’s enough sonic buildup to justify a fantastic extended banjo solo with fluidly shifting time signatures and tonalities. Banjo players who have tried to emulate this piece will have noticed that, like many Béla tunes, it centers around a particular lick, in a particular nonstandard key, played in open G tuning. But as with magic, sometimes understanding the trick doesn’t make it any less exciting to see it performed right in front of you. — Gangstagrass

Pharoahe Monch feat. Black Thought – “Rapid Eye Movement”

Every now and then there’s a collaboration that you just know is going to be dope just by the parties involved. “That’s what I figured when I saw these two MCs on a track from Pharoahe Monch’s 2014 album P.T.S.D. I wasn’t prepared for HOW DOPE, however,” says R-SON. Pharoahe Monch drops bars about being in a relationship with his ammunition and then filing for divorce and releasing his “ex-calibers.” Not to be outdone, Black Thought starts his verse with the last two lines of Pharoahe’s and goes on to “send shots to ancient Greece to pop Socrates.” Black Thought’s line “the ex-slave sado-masochist/who gave massa my ass to kiss” is, as R-SON puts it, “just another example of Black Thought’s conscious swagger that laces every verse that he blesses a track with.”

Black Star – “Thieves in the Night”

Mos Def and Talib Kweli came together on the Black Star album and created gems but this was the standard for R-SON. Their distinct flows built two very different parts — Kweli’s recounting what his man Louis said and thought and how those thoughts affected Kweli. Mos Def’s verse, on the other hand, had a breakdown of the hook where he responded to the things said in it. The song ends with one of the great lines in the genre’s history: “I give a damn if any fan recall my legacy, I’m tryina live life in the sight of God’s memory.” R-SON notes that “in my younger days the song brought tears to my eyes and I’m happy to say that it still does.”

Mos Def – “Mathematics”

We cannot think of another time when someone counting from 1 to 10 (Dolio the Sleuth on “Ain’t No Stopping” aside) has had more meaning. Mos raps, “5 dimensions, 6 senses, 7 firmaments of heaven and hell, 8 million stories to tell, 9 planets keep orbit around the probable 10th, the universe expands length….” He continues his “…numbers game, but shit don’t add up somehow,” speaking of the number of bars he has to do what he does, and the minimal amount of money he gets from it all. “6 million ways to die for the 7 deadly thrills / 8-year-olds getting found with 9 mils / it’s 10 p.m., where your seed, he’s on the hill/….pumping crills to keep they bellies filled.” His word (and number) play is immaculate.

UGK – “Int’l Players Anthem (I Choose You)”

A seminal “posse cut” that unites two legendary duos of Southern hip-hop, UGK and Outkast, exhibiting four distinct flows and approaches to the subject of being a “player.” Each emcee delivers a memorable verse complete with the stunning street poetry they’re known for, with cadences that ride the beat (or the lack of beat, in the case of Andre 3000’s intro verse) that samples heavily from Willie Hutch’s “I Choose You” from the soundtrack of 1970s Blaxploitation flick, The Mack.

Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys – “Nobody’s Love Is Like Mine”

Rench was listening to 1970s-era Clinch Mountain Boys when he started putting Gangstagrass together as a sound. There’s been a good deal of attention to the Stanley Brothers, but the sound was developed and refined to a new level with the addition of Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley. The vocal harmonies are tight and the full string section is on point in a way that epitomizes the best of classic bluegrass sound.

Stuff Smith – “Serenade for a Wealthy Widow”

Stuff Smith is one of the few truly iconic jazz fiddlers. His style is on Charlie Parker’s level. “In an alternate reality, where we weren’t so hung up on jazz’s horn players, I feel Stuff would have been one of the fathers of bebop,” says Brian. Stuff’s style pulls from such a diverse array of influences, from Stéphane Grappelli to the Western swing fiddlers like Bob Wills. The gruffness of his tone and clarity of his lines point to the meld between the character of string band/blues fiddlers players before him like Clifford Hayes and Robert Roberson, and the progressive harmonies that took over jazz after bebop. Stuff is the perfect example of harmonic personality over the harmonic intellectualism that followed. “This track is one of the more off-beat compositions that I love to surprise folks with,” Brian adds.

Slam Stewart – “Oh Me, Oh My, Oh Gosh”

“I feel much the same way about Slam as I feel of Stuff; his musical voice is synergistic of the eras before and after him,” Brian says. The way he rides the rhythm comes from an era of bassists mimicking the sound of tubas in marching bands, indicative of players like Bill Johnson, Wellman Braud, and Pops Foster. His style foreshadows others like Jimmy Blanton, Oscar Pettiford, and Ray Brown with their strong solo personalities. This tune is a favorite; it’s a slick lyric and showcases what Slam can do on all fronts.

Outkast – “Rosa Parks”

This one came out of left field in 1998 — when Southern rap was growing into national attention — and planted a flag with the trademark quirkiness of Outkast style, including a harmonica breakdown in the middle of the song. Their fast-flow style is undeniable and surgical here, while their unabashed Southern drawls in this radio hit opened the floodgates for Southern hip-hop to start dominating the charts.

Wilson Pickett – “Hey Jude”

This has a lot to do with the way the Swampers in Muscle Shoals epitomized the soul sound of the ‘60s in the best way, but this track in particular pushed boundaries by including what would later become familiar Southern rock sounds, courtesy of a young Duane Allman. Of course, the wicked Mr. Pickett kills it with a prime example of soul vocals just owning the track.

Photo credit: Sean Aikins

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

15 Bluegrass Covers of Bob Dylan

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Bluegrassers have been covering Bob Dylan for decades. First generation stalwarts Flatt & Scruggs covered more than a handful of songs penned by the future Nobel Laureate, Ralph Stanley sang with him, and at this very moment there are almost certainly jam circles out there around the globe laying down “Girl From/Of the North Country” with mash’s reckless, head-bobbing abandon without even realizing Dylan wrote the dang thing. Bluegrass covers of Dylan are so prolific, we had to cap our list at 15 — with an additional three not-quite covers tacked on for good measure.

Explore Dylan’s broad-reaching impact on bluegrass:

“Blowin’ in the Wind” — The Country Gentlemen

It just makes sense. The Country Gentlemen epitomized the impact of the folk revival on bluegrass and string bands of that era.

“Girl Of the North Country” — Sam Bush

Perhaps the most common and least jambuster-y of Dylan’s bluegrass incarnations, this one has been covered by everyone from Flatt & Scruggs and the Country Gentlemen to Tony Rice and his newgrass compatriot, Sam Bush.

“Señor (Tales Of Yankee Power)” — Tim O’Brien

It takes a special kind of songwriter (I mean, Dylan. Duh.) to craft a song that can allow another artist to inhabit it, wholly. It takes a special kind of artist to be able to do that song and songwriter justice. Tim O’Brien singing “Señor” is the perfect example of both.

“Tomorrow Is A Long Time” — Nickel Creek

An entire generation’s most mainstream exposure to bluegrass — Nickel Creek — might have simultaneously tipped off their young audience to the voice of a generation.

“It Ain’t Me Babe” — Flatt & Scruggs

Did you ever stop to think about the similarities between Lester Flatt and Bob Dylan’s singing styles? Now you have.

“When I Paint My Masterpiece” — Greensky Bluegrass

Truegrass, newgrass, jamgrass — any kind of [fill-in-the-blank]grass works for a Dylan cover.

“Boots of Spanish Leather” — Seldom Scene

Hearing a bluegrass band relax into a slower, loping groove is always a breath of fresh air. Seldom Scene know how to own a decidedly non-bluegrass beat. And yet, it’s quintessentially bluegrass.

“Long Ago, Far Away” — Front Country

The current bluegrass generation isn’t immune to Dylan’s influence either. Front Country burns this one down with a more straight ahead, hammer down arrangement.

“One More Night” — Tony Rice

Tony is arguably at his absolute best, his most extraordinarily superlative when he renders the songs of singer/songwriters and troubadours like Gordon Lightfoot and of course, The Bard.

“Rambling, Gambling Willie” — The Lonely Heartstring Band

There’s ramblin’, there’s gamblin’, philanderin’, and lots more gamblin’. It’s a dyed in the wool bluegrass banger — showcased in that decadently clean Boston style by the Lonely Heartstring Band — straight from a Dylan bootleg.

“Subterranean Homesick Blues” — Tim O’Brien

Spit. Out. Those. Lyrics. Tim. Oh and that hambone!! Lawd. Just listen to this and try not to feel visceral joy.

“Just Like a Woman” — Old Crow Medicine Show

This is here because we didn’t want to add that one Dylan song Old Crow is pretty famous for. They did an entire-album cover of Dylan! Let’s hear those songs for a change! It’s got more of a country and Western flavor, but we know Old Crow’s bluegrass roots run deep.

“Simple Twist of Fate” — Sarah Jarosz

Another take outside of the bluegrass box, but inherently informed by bluegrass. You can feel Jarosz emulate the lilt of Dylan’s voice in her phrasing. Unencumbered, yet supported in full by the strings.

“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” — Flatt & Scruggs

Everybody join in and sing! There’s something especially pleasing about hearing Scruggs comp over these iconic chord changes.

“Walkin’ Down the Line” — the Dillards

At their height, the Dillards’ sound was blended so purely with that iconic folk revival sound, but without giving up one shred of their traditional bluegrass sensibilities. This is a perfect example.

“East Virginia Blues” — Bob Dylan & Earl Scruggs

Now here’s your bonus. Bob Dylan and Earl Scruggs, with the Scruggs boys gathered around pick through “East Virginia Blues” for a TV documentary.

“Lonesome River” — Bob Dylan & Ralph Stanley

And of course, how could we have a list about Bob Dylan and bluegrass without a nod to the special relationship Dylan had with Ralph Stanley? Dylan consistently cites Stanley as an influence and they even collaborated on this recording of an iconic Stanley Brothers classic.

“Man of Constant Sorrow” — Bob Dylan

Remember that Ralph Stanley influence we mentioned? Here it is again. It’s a reverse Bob Dylan bluegrass cover to round out the set.

 

Che Apalache: Connection Through Context

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

As a column, Shout & Shine tends to hinge on unpacking, refuting, and/or subverting expectations about who does and doesn’t  “own” American roots music and its constituent genres. So it’s interesting that, in a conversation with Joe Troop, frontman of Argentina-based, bluegrass-flavored, Latin-infused string band Che Apalache, not only would we come up against those sorts of expectations — and how the band refuses to fit any molds set forth by them — but also in certain cases, we realize they fit quite tidily into the norm, the tradition, and the heritage of the music. Despite however far or wide a band may stray from what we may automatically suppose these genres ought to look like, feel like, and sound, roots music will almost always demonstrate that we are more connected and more similar than we’ve been led to believe.

We connected with Troop on the phone ahead of Che Apalache’s performance headlining our Third Annual Shout & Shine: A Celebration of Diversity in Bluegrass — the namesake of this column — at the International Bluegrass Music Association’s World of Bluegrass conference and Wide Open Bluegrass festival in Raleigh, North Carolina, next week.

This whole slew of unspoken, subtle expectations about who has a claim to roots music is already being subverted by just the existence of Che Apalache, so I wonder, as you tour — especially right now, as you tour the U.S. — how have you felt yourselves coming up against those expectations with your audiences, or perhaps anyone who wouldn’t ever suppose someone from a different hemisphere would even want to play bluegrass?

I fell in love with bluegrass because it’s amazing music, really. It’s such a beautiful thing to have happened in the world. This instrumentation, this ensemble, I tend to think of it also outside of bluegrass, but bluegrass is what gave it technique, there’s a lot of evolution that came from bluegrass. Don’t get me wrong, I love bluegrass, but there are some social issues in the bluegrass world — but there are also things that are understandable, because it’s an extension of American society. As American society continues to evolve and change, bluegrass is naturally going to do the exact same thing. It’s kind of a self-evident history. Being historically accurate is something that bluegrass musicians were never good at. They took something that wasn’t an Anglo-Saxon “pow-wow” and they made it into that.

Americans are not good at historical accuracy; our culture is predicated upon the exact opposite.

America’s perhaps the most hyper-nationalized country in the world right now. That’s something that you get to reflect upon a lot when you spend years — I, personally, have been out of the country for thirteen years of my life, so I’ve thought about that a lot, how nationalism seeps into every nook and cranny of your construct of identity. It’s pretty frightening. I would say bluegrass never escaped from that. Because of advertising and marketing and corporate dominance, Americans basically just want sunshine shoved up their asses 24/7. They just want to be told how great they are.

Not only because you come from South America, but the array of backgrounds and starting points for all of you in the band, I wonder how you feel you are working to deconstruct that paradigm? Is that an active thing?

Yes. Absolutely. It’s 100 percent intentional. I’m also cognizant of the fact that I’m privileged, regardless of the fact that I’m gay. I’m a middle-class American, that puts me way ahead of almost anyone anywhere else in the world, as far as having economic ability and being able to go to college without breaking a sweat, all that. My parents were not privileged growing up. They’re baby boomers, they had this idea of what they wanted for their children, that’s what they procured for us, but that gave me a different view than most of my family, who were blue collar. I grew up between two worlds and my parents were the segue between those worlds. Back then, identity was constructed very differently and there wasn’t much wiggle room.

So why be intentional through art? Personally, I developed an empathetic point of view because I had multigenerational friendships, and bluegrass is a brilliant genre because it does — unlike almost any genre in the United States — allow you to intermingle with people of different social statuses. Bluegrass is more of a launching pad than almost anything else, contrary to the very conservative ties it may have. If not the best, it’s one of the best musical forms with which to cultivate a greater sense of empathy. Then, when you want to make a greater artistic statement, you know how to untangle that mess a little bit more. Che Apalache tries to put out things that are very intentional, to help people reflect who may not have had any exposure to certain belief systems before — and I’m referring to my own belief systems as well. I have an agenda, clearly. Mainly that’s to help this process [of breaking down these paradigms] along in some sort of way where people are obligated to think.

I want people who hate these things — immigrants’ rights and gay people — to first fall in love with us almost like someone would as a child, because art has that innocence and beauty that’s primordial. If we can hook them in with artistic prowess and then challenge them to grow, that’s social art. That’s what we’re going for.

Musically then, what are the similarities and differences in your approach to string band music coming from the perspective of Argentina and South America, rather than North Carolina or Appalachia?

So we’re in Latin America, and in the 1970s, the United States backed Operation Condor, which was an intentional ousting of and/or assassination of democratically-elected governments in the southern cone of South America. They were replaced by very violent dictatorships. American intermingling in Latin America has led to the basic destruction of young intellectuals in the ‘70s, their baby boomers, who were pressing very important social issues. All of this led to some serious bullshit down in South America. Our histories are very intertwined. Talk about Americans needing sunshine shoved up their asses — to deny the fact that America and the CIA were directly responsible for what happened in South America would be equivalent to saying that Hitler and the Third Reich weren’t responsible for the Holocaust. It’s an important thing to understand when presenting a string band in South America, because most people are going to simply reject it. A lot of people would not look favorably on anything iconically American. That’s just part of what you have to understand before you even start to understand what an Argentinian string band means. You have to have context to know what you’re doing in the world. That’s what Americans are so pitiful at, having context. The inherent symbolism of a string band in South America is something that we’re conscious of both there and here.

What I hear you saying is that you’re patently, obviously American in Argentina and Latin America, but at the same time, you’re existing in this odd middle ground where, in the U.S., folks will view you as patently foreign. How do you bridge that divide?

Through queerness! [Chuckles] That’s my guiding light. It all started because of queerness. I fell in love with bluegrass simultaneously with the recognition of my own sexuality. That was the major defining factor in the construct of my identity. Being different, while at the same time being 100 percent Anglo-Saxon, North Carolinian, banjo and fiddle player, was like trying to tame two wild, bucking mules with a rope around each, trying to pull them back together.

Something that I continually go back to is that if we, as othered folks, are able to stand in the center of disparate halves like this–

Yeah! Who else is going to do it? I think being “other” means that you’ve already had societal defeat, you’re nothing. Back when I was coming to terms with my sexuality, gay meant death. I went to Spain when I was 19 and no one gave a shit. I have to give Spain a hand, I love that place. In a personal way, queerness plus Latin culture gave me the liberty to deconstruct my own idea of my identity.

I want to be very clear in connecting all of these thoughts, for our readers, to Che Apalache’s music. Let’s talk about “The Wall.” I love how it subverts that style of song with what it talks about. I feel like it’s the perfect synergy of all of these things you’re talking about.

That song was again, very intentional. I knew it had to be about the wall. It took getting piss drunk on a bottle of whiskey and writing it all out, in my friend’s bathroom crying — it had to be exactly that. The whole mission there was to create a song inspired by Ralph Stanley and what he represented. He’s one of those luminous voices that comes once in a century, he sounded like he was a hundred years old even in his 20s. He was an amazing but also very humble guy. He campaigned for workers’ rights, unions, and workers’ syndicates. He may have fallen into the clenches of Obama, in a way — because Obama didn’t deliver on a lot of the key issues he campaigned for — but the symbolism of Ralph Stanley campaigning for Obama, that speaks for itself, regardless of what happened afterwards. The idea was to put democracy back into the hands of the people. Ralph Stanley has that legacy.

Sure, there are degrees of radicalism — it all tends to be relative.

In southwest Virginia, what he did was extremely radical. You have to contextualize it.

There’s such a history and legacy in that region of folks who would have been relegated to the forgotten pages of history being on the front lines of progressive issues.

Totally. So that song, [“The Wall,”] on a musical and ethnomusicological level, comes from that! Four-part vocal harmonies and Southern gospel unify our band. In April we even did a residency in southwest Virginia through the Crooked Road. We got to play at the Ralph Stanley Museum and his birthplace. In those regions, a lot of those folks are conservative, they identify as Trump voters. We couldn’t think of a better way besides taking that style of music and try to somehow rope them in, then when the fourth verse comes through, they’ve already fallen in love with us, but then we’re tearing their wall down.

And that act isn’t something that you’ve set out to do just because Trump is president; you’re building on what all of these artists and people have done before you, using this specific style of music to make these changes in the world.

Totally. Exactly. We performed this song at [the Old Time Fiddler’s Convention in] Galax, Virginia, and you can see a lot of people listening politely, and only a couple of folks getting angry, but most sat listening respectfully. But hopefully, when they got up the next morning, it made them think.

Once again, queer people, othered people, are the perfect example of this hot button issue of “come togetherness.” We, the othered folks, are leading the way, showing how to come together despite our differences in a way that honors ourselves and our identities, without being complicit in our own oppression. That’s the power we have, to show people what it looks like to truly come together, to start these dialogues, and conversations. Whether it’s at IBMA and Shout & Shine, or at Galax, or around the country, or in Latin America.

That’s it exactly. I made a promise to myself to fly the gay flag, the rainbow flag at Galax next year over our campsite, because it’s usually just stars and bars there. I think that it would be nice to have other folks there to be a part of that! There’s strength in numbers. I would be reticent to go in there with an overt political agenda, though. Because that’s not strategic enough. I think what people like about Che Apalache is that it’s fresh, it’s breathing new energy into something, that for a lot of people has grown stale. That’s the majority of the comments we get. There are a lot of traditional bluegrass fans that follow us because they feel that the genre is doing what it always has — a resurgence of a new kind of thing. That new kind of thing isn’t going to be tipping the hat to the past in a cheeseball, more mash sort of way. People aren’t stupid. People want symbolism. People want string band music.

Photo courtesy of the artist.  

Ralph Stanley Exhibit Opens at Country Music Hall of Fame

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum is shining a light on a bluegrass legend in the new exhibit, Ralph Stanley: Voice from on High. Presented with the participation of the Stanley family, the exhibit will remain open through January 9, 2019.

For generations, Ralph Stanley found a home in bluegrass music, starting with the influential recordings made with his brother Carter as The Stanley Brothers. Following Carter’s death in 1966, Ralph’s own journey led him to the Grand Ole Opry and the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, with national recognition ranging from the Library of Congress to the Grammy Awards.

“I just want to say that I’m so glad to see this happen for Dad,” said Ralph Stanley II at the exhibit’s opening party. In his remarks, he remembered receiving a banjo from his father as a boy, although ultimately Ralph II ended up gravitating toward the guitar. Ralph II reminisced about falling asleep to the Clinch Mountain Gospel album while growing up – a ritual that led to dreams of sharing the stage with his father.

“Thanks to the good Lord, I got to do that,” he stated. “There’s been a lot of great banjo players and a lot of great singers. But nobody could play it with the emotion and feel that Dad had. That’s for sure.”

Photos by Jason Davis/Getty Images

MIXTAPE: Bobby Britt’s Songs of Hard-Won Joy

Posted on by Editor

The songs and artists on this playlist evoke a sense of hard-fought, hard-won, deep and rich joy. It is not a simple, one-dimensional joy. It has the sound of being churned about, tried and tested again. And now, just maybe, the joy being properly vetted, can be enjoyed. I look up to these artists, as they convey a message of calm and confident optimism.

We are all faced with the dualities of a temporal world…birth and death, gain and loss, pleasure and pain.

These songs speak to the strength of the human spirit amidst that world, and give me courage to carry on regardless of what’s happening, good or bad. They also provide a glimpse at an eternal reality of peace and balance (that has nothing to do with time, space or duality) that is hard to see or believe in when I am churning in the opposites…fear of loss, a craving for more and more solidity, and the dread that I will never have or be enough.

We need artists for this very reason; to go beyond our normal, conditioned ways of thinking about life, and to give us a new perspective with which to test our old and sometimes outdated paradigms.

My area of expertise is bluegrass and old-time fiddle. Though I am not a vocalist or pop artist, I gain inspiration from all styles. The feeling and sound of the above mentioned “hard-won joy” is what transcends specific genres for me. A goal of mine is to take this base emotional element, and with it, transfuse my fiddle playing and songwriting.

My hope is that you can find some joy and something to relate to in these songs as I did. Thank you for listening.

Photo Credit Louise Bichan

The Golden Age of Bluegrass… The ’90s?!

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With the following eleven songs, we will convince you, the bluegrass jury, that neither the ‘40s, the ‘50s, the ‘60s, nor the ‘70s were the golden age of ‘grass. Before the bluegrass gods and all these gathered here today we unabashedly assert: the ‘90s were the absolute best years for bluegrass!! Consider the following evidence:

Lonesome River Band – “Long Gone”

Remember the days when LRB was a quartet and there was a critical mass of mullets among their members? Such a small lineup and still somehow a supergroup: Dan Tyminski and Ronnie Bowman dueting the life out of it, Sammy Shelor pulling for his life, and Tim Austin demolishing the flat-top. Woof.

J.D. Crowe – “Blackjack”

The ‘90s were the golden age of bluegrass and the bluegrass supergroup. The TV show American Music Shop, which ran for three years starting in 1990, often amassed the best star-studded lineups of the time period – like this one: J.D. Crowe, Mark O’Connor, David Grisman, Tony Rice, Jerry Douglas, and Glen Worf.

Laurie Lewis & Friends – “Texas Bluebonnets”

Laurie Lewis won Female Vocalist of the Year from the International Bluegrass Music Association only twice — once in 1992 and again in 1994. We could rest our ‘90s-bluegrass-is-best case on that fact alone, but we’ll let Laurie (and Tom Rozum, Sally Van Meter, Peter Rowan, Alan Munde, et. al.) convince you with this Texas swing-flavored masterpiece.

Alison Krauss & Union Station – “Two Highways”

I mean… do we even need to contextualize this one with a blurb? Alison Krauss — before she became the winningest woman in GRAMMY history — with Adam Steffey, Barry Bales, Tim Stafford, and Alison Brown (no, they aren’t sisters, even if they do have the same name) is exactly why ‘90s bluegrass never fails us. If you happened to forget that AK is a ruthless fiddler, too, just listen to any of her stuff from this decade for a reminder.

Strength in Numbers – “Slopes”

We continue with supergroups, for a moment, this time regaling in the new acoustic, esoteric instrumental, 1990s beauty of “Slopes” played by a group of folks you may know: Béla Fleck, Mark O’Connor, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, and Edgar Meyer. Makes you wanna time travel, doesn’t it?

Dolly Parton – “Train Train”

Everyone’s favorite songwriter, actor, country star, business mogul, theme park owner, and literacy advocate made one of the best bluegrass records in the history of the genre in 1999 — and of course the world went crazy for it. She took bluegrass places it too-rarely appears with a band that could’ve sold out a nationwide tour themselves. Iconic.

Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder with the Del McCoury Band – “Rawhide”

Del and the boys cleaned up on the IBMA Entertainer of the Year awards between 1990 and 2000, winning the organization’s top honor a total of five times during that span. Ricky never truly left, but he visibly returned to dominating bluegrass in the 1990s, touring with Kentucky Thunder. Talk about a golden age!

Emmylou Harris, Ralph Stanley, Dwight Yoakam – “The Darkest Hour”

Once again, we thank American Music Shop for bringing together a seemingly disparate yet totally seamless power collab. One of the best things about bluegrass is the shared vocabulary, the commonality of the songs. Just throw a bunch of folks up on stage and have ‘em sing one together!

Nashville Bluegrass Band – “On Again Off Again”

Best decade for bluegrass = best decade for bluegrass music videos, too. (Sure, all music videos, but especially bluegrass ones!) This one is just deliciously retro and it doesn’t hurt that the Nashville Bluegrass Band is not only freakin’ stacked with talent, but they knock out these mid-tempo, sultry, vocal-centered songs better than anybody else.

Lynn Morris Band – “Love Grown Cold”

Lynn Morris has been unconscionably underrated for her entire career. Just listen to this. She had her heyday as an artist and band leader in the ‘90s, winning multiple Female Vocalist of the Year awards and even a Song of the Year, too. That banjo pickin’ definitely deserved better recognition, though. Hell, the whole kit-and-caboodle deserved more recognition. If you take away anything from our journey back through this bygone era of great hair choices and clothes that go zip-zop it should be a never ending love and appreciation for Lynn Morris.

Vince Gill, Alison Krauss – “High Lonesome Sound”

Two roots music icons of the decade, collaborating on a song that tributes the father of bluegrass himself, it’s just too perfect. We rest our case. May 1990s bluegrass live on forever in our hearts, our ears, and our mullets.

Give Me the Wintertime: 10 Bluegrass Songs for the Cold

Posted on by Editor

If we really have no choice but to endure winter (other than high-tailin’ it toward the equator), we might as well give in, cozy up, and spin some wintry bluegrass songs. Cold rain, cold snow, cold wind, cold hearts … some folks like the summertime when they can walk about, but wintertime … well, it’s a season that happens, too.

Tony Rice — “Girl From the North Country”

The north country = where the wind blows cold on the borderline. It feels like Tony sings about winter and its themes quite a lot. It just fits.

Emmylou Harris — “Roses in the Snow”

Not to throw around the term “iconic,” but this one is iconic. We’re familiar with the idea that love is like the seasons, but this time, love is like a greenhouse. It can grow roses in the snow! It’s a refreshing twist on a concept that usually ends up with the flower of love frozen over and wilted in the cold.

Larry Sparks — “Snow Covered Mound”

The only conscionable reason to highlight any recording of this song besides Ralph Stanley’s is … Larry Sparks. His voice captures winter and its grief perfectly. It will send a shiver up your spine.

The Osborne Brothers — “Listening to the Rain”

Some places aren’t lucky enough to enjoy the austere beauty of snow in the winter months, getting rain, and gray, and mud, and gloom instead. Of course, cold rain with a heapin’ helpin’ of lost love sounds about right.

Ronnie Bowman — “Cold Virginia Night”

IBMA’s 1995 Song of the Year leans into the cold heart metaphor. It is beautiful. And catchy. And still reverberating off the walls and in the halls of every former IBMA convention host hotel.

Jim Mills — “Sledd Ridin’”

If you gloss over the strange spelling of “sledd,” you’ll find this rollicking banjo tune feels like a day spent on the snowy neighborhood hill. Time for hot cocoa.

Reno & Smiley — “Love Oh Love Oh Please Come Home”

In a dynamic twist, the woman has left the man alone, at home, with their baby, while the snow has covered up the ground.

Del McCoury — “Rain And Snow”

It’s a murder ballad. It’s a lover’s lament. It’s sung in an astronomically high register. And it’s pretty sexist. It’s bluegrass to a T. It also happens to be a goddamn classic. Del McCoury does it right.

J.D. Crowe & the New South — “Ten Degrees and Getting Colder”

Somehow the saddest part of this song isn’t that he’s traded off his Martin. This song is a masterpiece and distillate of the troubles of a working musician: The coldest months are always the hardest months.

Bill Monroe — “Footprints in the Snow”

Once again, we are reminded that the father of bluegrass not only originated the genre, he’s responsible for a good many of its themes, too. In this case, winter isn’t an analog for heartbreak; it’s a silver lining, guiding the song’s speaker to his love via her footprints. You can’t trace footprints in the summer!

Photo by The Knowles Gallery on Foter.com / CC BY

Bluegrass Underground Takes the Genre to New Depths

Posted on by Editor

If you’re a fan of bluegrass, PBS, or both, there’s a good chance you’ve seen the Emmy-winning show Bluegrass Underground. The series, which features the biggest voices in roots music performing in an actual cave, has been on the air since 2011, with shows first taking place 333 feet below the earth in McMinville, Tennessee’s Cumberland Caverns in 2008. Since the show’s inception, it’s featured a who’s-who of bluegrass and Americana’s finest artists, including Old Crow Medicine Show, Del McCoury, and Lucinda Williams. 

New episodes for the 2017 season taped over the weekend with three days of shows that featured Conor Oberst, Parker Millsap, Rhonda Vincent, and Marty Stuart, among others. This new season — the series’ seventh on television — is its biggest yet, a lineup that had Larry Nager, who serves as the show’s resident journalist and blogger, as excited as ever to get down to the cave. 

Prior to getting involved with Bluegrass Underground, Nager worked as a journalist, musician, and bluegrass historian. His first brush with the series came in 2008, when he attended one of the very first shows — featuring the likes of Tim O’Brien, Bryan Sutton, and Stuart Duncan — at the behest of Bluegrass Underground founder Todd Mayo. He cites that lineup as inspiring him to join the show’s team, but also is quick to explain that the venue itself played a large role in getting him on board.

And it is quite a sight. After trekking down a dimly lit, winding path flanked by rock formations and crystalline pooled water, visitors descend upon a grand “room” made of rock, at once cozy and breathtaking, lit by a large chandelier that can only be described as prehistoric chic. 

“There are artists who won’t go because they don’t like the idea of being in a cave,” he says. “That, in itself, is interesting. But there’s kind of a magic that happens underground. It takes everybody out of their usual zone. For bluegrass bands or any working band, it’s gig after gig after gig and they all kind of run together, but when they come down there they say, ‘This is one we’re gonna remember.’”

Though Nager has seen countless shows over the years, there are a handful of moments from his time in the cave that rank among his favorite musical memories. One of the most treasured of those memories is his experience seeing the late Dr. Ralph Stanley perform in 2011.

“Ralph did two shows down in the cave,” he says. “To get him in the cave is just a cool thing. He did ‘O Death’ with a pin-spot on his face in the dark cave. That was one of those moments … It was transcendent. That’s definitely one of the moments I’ll remember.”

Nager noted that moments like those are made available to viewers beyond the lucky few hundred in the venue by PBS, an entity threatened by budget proposals by the Trump administration. Without the support of PBS, there likely won’t be a home on television for Bluegrass Underground or similar roots-centric shows like Music City Roots. 

“There really is a message there, in that PBS, for people who love roots music and love bluegrass … you’re not going to see it anywhere else, not on broadcast television. There’s also an underserved rural population that, the influence of PBS there, is not often stated, but for a lot of places that’s the alternative TV they get. Otherwise, it’s Dancing with the Stars.

“If you’re open to it, the beauty of it, the strangeness of it, the uniqueness of the experience is inspiring. It’s just old-fashioned magic.”