WATCH: Gangstagrass, “The Only Way Out Is Through” (feat. Jerry Douglas)

Artist: Gangstagrass
Hometown: All over the USA! Rench: Brooklyn with Oklahoma roots; Dolio the Sleuth: Pensacola, Florida; R-SON the Voice of Reason: Philly; Danjo: Washington, D.C.; Farrow: Omaha; Sleevs: Baltimore.
Song: “The Only Way Out Is Through”
Release Date: February 7, 2024 (video); February 2, 2024 (single)
Label: Rench Audio

In Their Words: “I’m really into how much we played with tension and energy to craft this track, the dynamics came out so powerfully. Especially with the horns! (Provided by Lowdown Brass Band.) We were stunned by the quick ‘yes’ from the one and only Jerry Douglas, who put in a blisteringly intense Dobro solo. I dare you to tell me you’ve heard anything like this before. I feel like this will be a great song for psyching yourself up to kick ass at whatever you are about to do.” – Rench

“When you ask Jerry Douglas to collaborate with you and he says yes, it says something about him and it says something about you. Jerry is the quintessential progressive bluegrass musician, with one foot permanently rooted in a genuine love of musical tradition and the other foot continually stretching forward and in every direction, looking for ways to bring traditional music into new places. ‘The Only Way Out Is Through’ makes the case, fearlessly, that what we do is in the true spirit of bluegrass: innovative, collaborative, awesome.” – Danjo 

“‘The Only Way Out Is Through’ was a lotta fun to make: a bumping, triumphant track where we get to spit fire bars, a mantra of a hook, plus Jerry Douglas going BANANAS on the Dobro!” – Dolio the Sleuth

“Making Gangstagrass music is always dope. Adding some Lowdown Brass Band to the mix and a LEGEND like Jerry Douglas is even mo’ dope!” – R-SON the Voice of Reason

Track Credits:

Rench – beats, vocals
Dolio the Sleuth – MC, vocals
R-SON the Voice of Reason – MC
Jerry Douglas – Dobro
Dan “Danjo” Whitener – banjo, guitar, mandolin, vocals
B.E. Farrow – fiddle, vocals
Lowdown Brass Band – horns
Sleevs – management / behind-the-scenes


Photo Credit: Melodie Yvonne
Video Credit: Directed by TOUGH DUMPLIN & MZ.ICAR; Post-Production by Someplace Called Brooklyn.

You Have to Hear Tray Wellington Band Cover Kid Cudi

It’s that time, when music writers everywhere are thinking and writing about the best of the year’s music, blurbing away for year-end round ups. (Speaking of, our BGS year-end picks will be unveiled next week.) While it’s right to view ranking, commodifying, and objectifying music with a degree of skepticism, there is certainly something constructive and generative about reflecting on the songs, albums, and performances that have stuck with us throughout a year. It’s especially illuminating when certain music immediately jumps out from the rest, requiring no particular organization or intention to be a constant presence throughout a year or to be remembered among the cream of the crop.

Tray Wellington Band’s cover of Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness” is one such song. When the group performed it earlier this year at FWAAMFest in Texas, it wasn’t the first time I had heard their rendition, but it was the first time I noticed an audience hearing it themselves for the first time. I was struck by the reactions, in a non-bluegrass audience they varied from utter shock to outright glee – even other bands and artists on the lineup were beside themselves, as Tray Wellington Band laid out their one-of-a-kind cover of such a recognizable melody. Later this year, I saw TWB perform again at Earl Scruggs Music Festival in Tryon, North Carolina, and yet again, down the road a handful of weeks later at IBMA’s Bluegrass Live! festival and conference in Raleigh. Each time, regardless of the audience’s starting point or their baseline understanding of bluegrass, of the banjo, of cover songs such as this, “Pursuit of Happiness” would generate electricity in the crowd.

There’s a reason why hearing a North Carolina-born, Raleigh-based (via east Tennessee) Scruggs-style banjo player’s take on “Pursuit of Happiness” reminds of Reno & Smiley performing Johnny Cash and Elvis hits and Flatt & Scruggs recording buckets of Bob Dylan songs. This is a tradition in bluegrass as old as the genre itself. Executed as artfully as this, it has the potential to bring countless new fans of string band music into the fold. That “Pursuit of Happiness” retains its impact, no matter the audience – thanks, in large part, to this band’s remarkable musicality as an ensemble – at bluegrass festivals, African American music festivals, or even in Earl Scruggs’ home county, speaks to that ineffable quality of this music that we all hold so dear. Sometimes, a bluegrass song just grabs you and it won’t let go. “Pursuit of Happiness” is destined to grab more than its own share of ears, and Tray Wellington and band deserve it and then some, for bringing this track to the world.


 

Banjo Player Jake Blount Brings Hip-Hop, Rap, and Afrofuturism to ‘The New Faith’

As a musician, scholar (the holder of a B.A. in ethnomusicology), and songwriter, Jake Blount enjoys shredding stereotypes and defying conventional wisdom. His latest LP, The New Faith, is a conceptually ambitious, musically diverse, lyrically explosive work, one of the year’s most intriguing and exciting in any idiom. But it also represents quite a stylistic change from his prior releases that were powered by old-time banjo accompaniment and fiddle support. Instead, hip-hop and rap are a prominent feature, as well as flowing strings, drums and percussion.

That it is the work of a Black man whose approach has always been to ignore labels and refuse to accept notions about what kinds of songs and music are appropriate should be no surprise. Blount, the 2020 winner of the Steve Martin Banjo Prize and two-time winner of the Appalachian String Band Music Festival, better known as Clifftop, is also an outspoken exponent of Afrofuturism, a still-evolving concept that both celebrates Black cultural tradition and seeks to expand and refute outdated notions about it. He’s also an engaging performer comfortable performing anything from Delta blues to traditional country and bluegrass.

With a background that includes being tutored by such acoustic music masters as Rhiannon Giddens, Judy Hyman, and Bruce Molsky, Blount has been a sensation since 2017, when his then-band The Moose Whisperers were Clifftop winners. He also received widespread critical acclaim for his sound and style, both in Tui, a duo with fiddler Libby Weitnauer, and his solo releases, the powerhouse EP Reparations in 2017, and full-length album Spider Tales in 2020.

Still, nothing he’s done to date matches the power and authority of The New Faith, which is part of the Smithsonian Folkways Recordings’ African American Legacy Series, in collaboration with the National Museum of African American History and Culture. The project also includes wonderful contributions from Demeanor, D’orjay The Singing Shaman, Samuel James, Kaia Kater, Lizzie No, Mali Obomsawin, Brandi Pace, Rissi Palmer and Lillian Werbin.

Its 10 songs present a sprawling, often fascinating story set in a far-future world that’s been devastated by climate change. The focus is on a group of Black climate refugees as they perform a religious service, invoking vintage spirituals that are familiar in structure, but amazingly powerful in their presentation. Such songs as “Didn’t It Rain” and “Once There Was No Sun” are superbly and intensely performed.

Blount is unafraid, either in his music or interviews, to discuss such topics as George Floyd’s murder, or the hostility of organized religion and in particular the Black church towards LGBTQ individuals. Most importantly, the Rhode Island-based artist offers a consistently imaginative and intriguing — if often realistic and pessimistic — notion of the future.

BGS: How challenging was making The New Faith as compared to your previous releases?

Blount: This was by far the most challenging record I’ve ever done, in large part because it was mostly done during the pandemic. Working in isolation, people cutting their parts and sending them, then putting everything together, was an enormous challenge, and doing everything remote also presented some creative challenges. Brian (co-producer Brian Slattery) and I were working really hard in making sure that we got exactly what we wanted and the best from the different things that were coming in. Then we’re doing most of it in the bedroom. That’s really different as well. But I’m happy with how things turned out, and the contributions from so many wonderful people really added to it.

You’ve tackled some tough issues here, and subjects like climate change or police misconduct are controversial subjects. What’s been the reaction?

For the most part the album has been well received. Perhaps the most backlash has come from the inclusion of rap on the record. But if you’re going to reflect the music and society of the 21st century, you’ve got to include rap. It’s as much the instrument of communication today for young people as the fiddle and banjo were for a prior generation. I love both of those instruments, play them and incorporate them in my music, but I’m also looking to the future and trying to make sure that what I’m doing and saying is relevant to what’s going on today and to what audiences are hearing.

What were some of the sounds that influenced you in developing your sound and your style?

I grew up loving the music of Parliament/Funkadelic and Earth, Wind & Fire, and still do. But I also heard traditional folk music, the blues, country, bluegrass. My concept of folk music includes all these things. It includes both acoustic and electric influences. There have always been folks who’ve tried to restrict or limit music, who want to say if you’re a folk musician you can’t play this or you can’t sing that. I have never accepted those limitations and never will.

You also talk about Afrofuturism and its importance to your music. Do you feel that audiences have any problems or difficulties understanding what that means?

Afrofuturism is simply the broad spectrum of African American culture and music, being free to imagine and utilize pretty much anything within the canon. While I’m not doing the literary element of it as much, I’m influenced by the great authors as well. But when you talk about Afrofuturism within the music you’re encompassing and embracing everything that’s come within the culture, finding ways of expanding and continuing within that tradition.

You don’t hesitate, either in song or interviews to talk about the Black church and its not-so-positive relationship with LGBTQ people. Has that caused any problems?

One thing that I’ve always said and continue to say is that there needs to be a welcoming attitude in all churches towards all people, including LGBTQ. I know that there are those in the Black church who are uncomfortable with LGBTQ people for religious reasons. My concept of Black spirituality embraces everyone, and I want to create songs that support creating a safe and comfortable environment for all people.

Do you view yourself as a folk or country musician?

One of the things that I’m very much about is creating a new discussion, a new understanding of what exactly is folk music. There’s always been a tendency towards making what is considered folk music as small and narrow as possible, seeing it in a way that excluded more people, be they musicians or just fans, than it included.

For me, when you talk about Black folk music, that’s as broad a spectrum of musicians and sounds as you could ever envision in a lifetime. It’s not just about a finite time period or a certain era that ended when a handful of people died. It’s ongoing, it’s contemporary, it embraces tradition, but continues to expand it. That’s what I’m trying to do at all times with my music.

Are you glad to be back out on tour?

Yes, there is nothing that matches live performance in front of an audience. I think a lot of the songs on The New Faith work even better in live performance, and I’m really anxious to get out on the road and perform them. Also just the excitement of being out on a live stage again, and going to different cities and seeing live audiences again, it’s such a pleasure and a joy.


Photo Credit: Tadin Brown

BGS 5+5: Gangstagrass

Artist: Gangstagrass
Homebase: Brooklyn, New York
Latest album: No Time for Enemies
Personal nicknames: Rench the Mastermind, Dolio the Sleuth, R-SON the Voice of Reason, Danjo, B.E. Farrow

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

Back in the Before Time when we were on tour, before getting on stage we huddle up and put our fists in the center, and one of us will start giving a pump-up speech — equal parts church revival preaching and championship game coach pep talk, with some swearing thrown in, and then shout “Gangstagrass!” while we lift our fists up, very much like a little league team huddling before a game. Before that, Dolio the Sleuth does 300 push ups to get the adrenaline going, R-SON creates an R2-D2 replica out of toothpicks and glue, and I set up a poison capsule triggered by a Geiger counter next to a radioactive atom so that we play the entire set in a quantum state. But our huddle is always a good little energy focuser to bring us together for a moment before we step on stage. — Rench

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

Earth. I’m a country boy, born and raised in a tradition of pulling nourishment from and communing with the outdoors, so I spend a lot of time in my garden. It helps to keep me grounded and centered, and serves as a sacred space, a place where I can take the gifts of sunlight, soil, and water to raise and enjoy my private Eden. That spiritual centering allows me to focus my pen into channeling the energy I want to deliver unto others … and whenever I can: water. Because I’m from a place on the Gulf, I feel my most comfortable when near a body of water. I tune in to the rhythm of the waves or the trickle of the currents and it turns to music in my mind. — Dolio the Sleuth

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

Comic books. All day. It’s rare to find a verse of mine that doesn’t have at least one comics reference. The comics universe is full of interesting characters and references that allow for it to fit and be used a hundred different ways for a hundred different meanings. The best part is when someone in an audience catches one of those references. It makes me know that they’re paying attention and digging what I’m saying. — R-SON the Voice of Reason

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

I grew up listening to my dad play in a bluegrass band, so music was always in the house. I think I wanted to be a musician as early as I could want anything. — Danjo

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Special butterflies fly to special places so always follow the oddest path. — Farrow


Photo credit: Melodie Yvonne

MIXTAPE: Gangstagrass’ Standard Setters

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