Never Be Lonesome: The Bluegrass Inclusion Movement Sweeps Raleigh

Well after midnight on Thursday at World of Bluegrass in Raleigh, North Carolina, Molly Tuttle and her quartet took the stage of the Lincoln Theater for a surprise show. The room quivered with anticipation because, a few hours before, Tuttle had been named the IBMA Guitar Player of the Year — the first woman to ever be nominated for the prize.

Women have won in the instrumental categories of banjo, bass, fiddle, and mandolin (Sierra Hull earned her second trophy on the same September night). But lead guitar felt like a bluegrass Rubicon. Weighing against Tuttle, and fellow feminine flatpickers like Courtney Hartman and Rebecca Frazier, are decades of societal coding of guitar in rock ‘n’ roll as a phallic proxy for masculine sexuality. But even beyond that, the bluegrass world, as good as it’s been cultivating its youth, has strongly suggested that girls coming of age should play rhythm and sing. Playing machine gun solos a la Tony Rice or daredevil cross-picking like David Grier seemed anathema for way too long. Where there reasons for this? Anything physical, emotional, or intellectual? Uh, no.

Tuttle’s win coincided with a few other signifiers of progress in the long slog toward full inclusion for women in the music. Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard were inducted last week (belatedly) into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame. A smart display in the foyer of the Raleigh Convention Center depicted the history of women in bluegrass, from Sally Ann Forrester to Alison Krauss and the abundant riches of today’s scene.

Feminism was bluegrass music’s first go at civil rights and inclusion, and it took a long, grinding time to arrive at something resembling parity in the modern world. As Murphy Hicks Henry points out in her 2013 book, Pretty Good for a Girl: Women In Bluegrass, one early scholarly work on the genre literally defined the bluegrass band as “four to seven male musicians (Henry’s emphasis) who play non-electrified stringed instruments.” And that was after Bessie Lee Mauldin played bass for Bill Monroe for eight years. Henry’s definitive history set out, she wrote, “to lay that tired myth of bluegrass being ‘man’s music’ to rest. Bluegrass was and is no more ‘man’s music’ than country music was ‘man’s music,’ than jazz was ‘man’s music,’ than this globe is a ‘man’s world.’”

Carry that to its logical and uproariously banal conclusion, and one might dare to propose that bluegrass is everybody’s music. And, in fact, that premise is being put to the test nationally, including in the hothouse environment of IBMA. The most pressing issue and exciting conversations at World of Bluegrass 2017 were about inclusion and diversity in a genre that has, for decades, presented an almost uniformly white, straight, Christian face to the world. Ain’t nothing wrong with any of those things. I’m two of them and love many who are all three. But that is clearly not everybody, and it would be cool if LGBTQ+ people and people of color could, you know, skip ahead to the good part without the decades of hand-wringing and foot dragging that women endured. Hazel & Alice didn’t go the distance for themselves alone or for women alone, after all. They bid the stranger, per the Carter Family, to “put your lovin’ hand in mine.” They sang for the marginalized, all of them.

Alice Gerrard, flanked by Cathy Fink and Marcy Marxer, at Shout & Shine

Over the past 12 months, the inclusion movement has been on a forward roll. The most talked about event at the 2016 IBMA convention was the semi-sanctioned, upstart Shout & Shine diversity showcase, with musicians who were Black, brown, and queer throwing down on banjos and fiddles. If any one thing put a new face on bluegrass music in modern times, it was this. Organizer Justin Hiltner (the BGS’s social media director) stepped up in a leadership role, not only by example as an openly gay banjo-playing dude from Nashville, but by challenging the IBMA institutionally and professionally to be explicitly and publicly inclusive, or risk leaving new generations of potential members uninterested.

Minor controversy broke out last spring when members of the California Bluegrass Association sponsored a float in the June San Francisco Pride Parade. A thread on the association’s forum is full of respectful conversation and overwhelming support for putting a float with a live bluegrass band in one of the Bay Area’s biggest public gatherings. While there seem to be no reports of outright hostile homophobia, a minority of the membership took the more oblique path of objecting to their music and association being tied to “religion and politics.” One fellow wrote, “I see the gay pride parade as a promotional event for the gay lifestyle and the in-your-face display of that lifestyle.”

The CBA contingent went ahead, of course, and besides having a triumphant day, the float went on to win the SF Pride Best of the Best Overall Award, the highest honor for Pride participants. In the end, a small handful of people resigned from the CBA, but even more appear to have joined. And Bluegrass Pride’s rainbow forward t-shirts and buttons became the hot thing to wear at Raleigh’s World of Bluegrass.

Likewise, this year’s second Shout & Shine concert was a hit, with performers that included the African-American string band the Ebony Hillbillies and openly gay Kentucky folk singer Sam Gleaves, plus his mentors, married folk duo Cathy Fink and Marcy Marxer. Gleaves told me he found the event “heartening and really fabulous,” but this most humble gentleman tends to emphasize the aspirations of others more than his own identity, be it a more prominent place for people of color or old-time folk music itself.

Melody Walker, whose band Front Country led the show-closing super jam, said that the “Shout and Shine showcase was the most diverse stage and audience I’ve ever seen at IBMA. It was really beautiful and it kind of feels like a window into the future of what IBMA could be, if we express love and openness to the world and let people know that it’s safe to fall in love with bluegrass and they have a place here.”

Justin Hiltner and Sam Gleaves join Front Country for the Shout & Shine super jam

I kept looking for somebody to break out in hives. Because, seriously, people in bluegrass will do that over the wrong kind of banjo tone ring. But even amid the hustle and bustle of the convention center and town hall meeting, I heard not a discouraging word. Somehow, with a mixture of diplomacy, facts, humanity, and appropriate assertiveness, the Bluegrass Pride movement made its impression and the ecosystem took it in stride.

Likewise, for the Thursday afternoon keynote address by Rhiannon Giddens, founding former member of the Carolina Chocolate Drops and the 2016 winner of the Steve Martin Banjo Prize. IBMA officials who conceived of and worked on the invitation described some board members as wary, for reasons that are hard to discern. Nobody went public. Nobody’s come up to me and said, “What’s she doing here?” But was IBMA truly ready for an authoritative African-American figure with a major label deal, an acting role on CMT, and other high-profile platforms to come to their stage and talk candidly about bluegrass and race?

Apparently so. Reaction to the Tuesday afternoon speech was, spitballing here, 90 percent rapture and 8 percent relief. (I’ll assume 2 percent unspoken upset or non-attendance.) Sounding for all the world like Barack Obama, with her biracial family story and her sense of only-in-America (for good and otherwise), she spoke of bluegrass music as honestly and completely as I’ve heard it told. I expect that fans, musicians, and scholars will replay and review its layers for years to come because it was dense with truth and a powerful revision of our standard origin story. She offered her own account of growing up in and near Greensboro, North Carolina with a white uncle who played bluegrass and a Black grandmother who simply adored Hee Haw. Her carefully documented recounting of Black string bands and the appropriation of the banjo were full of similar counter-intuitive revelations.

“In order to understand the history of the banjo and the history of bluegrass,” she said, “we need to move beyond the narratives we’ve inherited, beyond generalizations that ‘bluegrass is mostly derived from a Scots-Irish tradition with influences from Africa.’ It is, actually, a complex Creole music that comes from multiple cultures, African and European and Native — the full truth that is so much more interesting and truly American.”

This was the wind-up to the line that’s been most widely quoted, the thesis sentence, if you will: “Are we going to acknowledge the question is not ‘How do we get diversity into bluegrass?’ but ‘How do we get diversity back into bluegrass?’” This line resulted in one of a half-dozen of rounds of mid-speech applause that led to the ultimate standing ovation.

Member of Bluegrass 45 lead the Japanese Jam

For years, my joke about bluegrass is that it’s very diverse. It attracts all kinds of white people. The serious sentiment behind that veil is is my early and ongoing impression that, besides being an exciting and powerful musical form with an American heartbeat, bluegrass attracts what pundit and podcaster Ana Marie Cox calls an “uneasy coalition.” Bluegrass festivals are one of the rare places I’ve seen rural Red Staters and urbane Blue Staters enjoying life and mingling together. The scene is somewhat like Willie Nelson’s ecumenical shows of the 1970s, with Christians and hippies and farmers and nerds. This variety show can also be found in sports, but frankly at NBA or NFL or MLB contests, you can easily arrive, cheer, and leave without engaging with anybody not of your tribe. In the musically charged environment of bluegrass, that’s far less likely. We go to church apart. We vote apart. But we all love Flatt & Scruggs and Sam Bush.

This is more than merely cool. It’s important. Immediately outside IBMA’s confines, as all this was going on, in real time, President Trump was fanning flames of anger over peaceful, protected protest of police brutality. Issues of LGBTQ+ inclusion regularly produce cascades of vitriol and culture war, where all that was hoped for was the same thing artists hope for on stage — listening — and maybe some empathy and vulnerability for good measure.

Shout & Shine takes its name from a Christian hymn written in the 1950s that’s been covered by gospel groups and bluegrass bands. The first verse is heavy-handed with its promise of being issued a robe and crown upon entry into paradise. But the second and final verse has a nicer prophesy for the musically minded:

I’ll never be lonesome in that city so fair

And all will be so divine.

Many of my loved ones and neighbors will be there.

In heaven, we’ll shout and shine.

We want people to sing about being lonesome in bluegrass. But actually being lonesome? Not so much.


Photo credit: Willa Stein. Lede image: The Ebony Hillbillies headline Shout & Shine.

Craig Havighurst is music news director and host of The String at WMOT Roots Radio in Nashville. Follow him on Twitter @chavighurst
 

The Urgency of History: A Conversation with Rhiannon Giddens

Every now and then, a voice comes along that is so thoroughly in tune with the times that it can’t — and shouldn’t — be ignored. This year, that voice belongs to Rhiannon Giddens. Her latest album, Freedom Highway , takes its cues from the warriors of justice who came before her … Joan Baez, Odetta, the Staples Singers, and others. And it takes its stories from the victims of injustice that suffer throughout history … slaves, children, Black men, and more.

Of course, Giddens couldn’t have known that, in the middle of her album cycle, Nazis would march and Confederate statues would fall. But march and fall they have, all while she uses her voice to speak truth to the powers that be and the masses that care. And, in case anyone dare challenge her assertions, the ever-curious student of history brings all the proverbial receipts to back up her truth.

The more this year rolls along, the more important and potent your record and voice become. How’s it feel, at this moment in time, to hold up a mirror of the racial injustices upon which this country is founded?

Somebody said, at the show yesterday, “Your album is more timely every day!” I was like, “Yeah. Isn’t that depressing?”

Isn’t it?

Isn’t that freaking depressing? I wrote and recorded this record last year, and I remember thinking, before the election, “I don’t even know how urgent this is going to feel to people.” [Laughs] Little did I know. Holy moly! I mean, it’s always urgent to me, because I see it there. It’s always there, but for it to be so on the surface …

The thing is, the record’s always going to be timely because we’re talking about things that are part of the fabric of America — completely systemic issues here. It’s just, now, it’s really on the surface. Now it’s really exposed whereas, if the election had gone differently, these issues would still be here; they would just be covered up, underground a little bit more.

So, on the one hand, I’m like, “Oh, God. I can’t believe this is going on.” On the other, it’s, “Yeah.” But it’s great that people can see it. There’s a population of us that have known this stuff was there, and now everybody else can see it. I have to stay positive. We’re in the middle of what people are going to look back on, like in the ’60s. That’s what we’re in, right now. It’s a little freaky.

It is weird to be discussing the cause of the Civil War in 2017. And having to argue about what the cause was …

Oh my God. I know! The book I’m in right now is Negroes in Colonial South Carolina from 16whatever through the Stono Rebellion and, when you get into the beginning of the country — like the very beginning, the settlements in South Carolina and Virginia and New England — African-Americans are completely intertwined with how the country came into being. Culture-wise, music-wise, economics … for the numbers, the impact was enormous. And when you also look at the primary sources and how the European-Americans, soon to be called “white,” talk about African-Americans, it’s a pretty negative, horrible thing.

To have that be the basis of a country … to have the genocide of natives be the basis of a country … to have racial discrimination be how the country has operated for however long … I mean, sure, of course it’s still an issue, of course this is deep-seated stuff. We’ve had a lot of surface progress and we have had some deep progress. I witness the number of white folks that are like, “Whoa! What?! This is wrong!” And that’s progress to me because, when you look at the numbers for how long it took Abolitionists to get a stronghold, how long it took the religious movement to get a stronghold … when you look at the overall thing, that’s a really positive development to me. And that’s what gives me hope, that there has been a lot of change in people. It’s just the system and the people in power are operating from this old thing. Of course! Why wouldn’t they? They benefit from it!

And they were taught — and continue to teach — a false narrative about how the country was founded.

Yes. Exactly! That’s a problem. When people with an open mind learn the actual history, they are horrified. But, if that’s not what you’re taught … My empathy only goes so far, though, because there’s an Internet and there are lots of books. There are just people who don’t want to dig. I get it: There’s a lot of stuff to watch on TV or whatever.

But there are books out there. There’s all this amazing, scrupulously researched documentation that’s coming out. I just got a book a couple weeks ago. It’s called The Other Slavery and it’s all about the slavery of Native Americans. It just came out last year and it’s thick and it’s footnoted to within an inch of its life. It’s all primary-sourced material that he’s gathered and is writing about. You start reading and it’s like, “Oh my God!” But it’s out there in the book store. Pick it up.

I don’t know. I’m in between, sometimes. I understand if you think the narrative is this, but that only goes so far because you hit human decency. Even if your knowledge of American history is flawed, there’s still, “Don’t be a Nazi.” You know what I mean? I can go only so far with sympathy. It’s like, “Cool. Yeah. You have a swastika? I’m done.” It’s a weird place to be.

As an artist of color and a woman, do you feel any internal or external pressure to meet certain expectations with this stuff … because you don’t have the luxury of mediocrity, like so many white guys with guitars have?

[Laughs] Oh, boy! You don’t hear that very often! Right?

[Laughs] But it’s true. It’s not fair, but it’s true.

It is true. But it can swing the other way a little bit. I’ll be honest: Chocolate Drops, when we started, we weren’t very good. I mean, we were very enthusiastic. [Laughs] There was a novelty aspect that brought some people to the show, but what we had was a connection to tradition. And that is what got us over the beginning of not being that great.

But what you’re saying is … there are two different ways to look at it: There are systemic issues that affect everybody, and then there are issues that anybody has. Right? Everybody has a particular set of obstacles to overcome in their life and then there are these systemic things. So I try to approach my professional life by trying to look at it as this specific set of obstacles that I’ve been given as a human being and not looking at it from the systemic point of view because I think, especially when it comes to me, I have a lot of advantages: I’m light-skinned and all of that kind of stuff.

I remember having a conversation with Sharon Jones, when we were on the set of The Great Debaters. We were part of a music scene in the movie for a split-second. I had never met her before and listening to her talk about how hard her life had been primarily because of her skin color and going, “Wow. I had no idea how bad it could be.” I just shut up and listened to her talk because this was a woman a generation older than me and she had a lot of shit she needed to say, and I needed to hear it. Having that experience, I took that into myself and felt like, “I’m going to use my advantages and I’m going to not really think about what may not be happening for me because of who I am.” I have to stay focused on that because I do have advantages and I do have privileges. And I’m going to use that to try to tell these stories.

I’ve been very, very blessed. The Chocolate Drops were blessed. We stayed focused on Joe [Thompson] and the mission. I think that overcame lots of things. Yeah, we had our share of stupid remarks and what not. But, come on: I read the autobiographies of Black musicians who were out in the ’20s and ’30s and it was nothing, nothing, NOTHING, not even a fraction of what they went through. So I considered us blessed and I used that to try to tell these stories of people who are less fortunate.

You’re in a unique position to bridge a few different gaps, particularly doing the keynote at the IBMA Awards this year. How do you address a crowd that is, notably, not diverse? Some of them may well be allies, some may not. So how do you frame your message to a crowd like that for the biggest impact?

This is where growing up mixed comes in handy. You just walk the line and be unapologetic about it: “Look, man, this is where I’m coming from.” We’ve been shunned by white family members. We’ve been treated not great, so I know that experience. But you can’t hate people. Because I’ve also seen the progress that the white side of my family has made. My grandmother became a bastion of love. She treated us the same as all her other grandchildren. She led that charge so the immediate family could see, over the years, how that love warmed things. So I’ve seen how people can change.

That’s why I get frustrated when people on the Left talk about “those rednecks” and are really dismissive of people I’m related to. You have to give people an opportunity to change. My grandmother’s a great example: She was poor, white, Southern, always looking out for survival, just very simple, straight-ahead, North Carolina, out in the country … her husband built their house, that kind of thing. Her first-born son goes to the big city metropolis of Greensboro and finds a Black woman and becomes a hippie. She had two choices. She was not like, “Oh, that’s great! Bring the Black woman home!” because that wasn’t her experience. In her life, they were the “other.” When my sister was born, she was like, “That’s my grandchild.” She was worried and wasn’t sure what they were going to do, but, then my sister was born, and she was like, “I don’t really care. I’m going to love this child.” She was always really nice to my mom. There were others who weren’t, but she stood fast. That, to me, is so inspiring. That’s where true change happens — when people fall in love and they bring people in. I come from that place.

It takes the “other” out of the equation because the “other” is now part of your family and are no longer an “other.” Like you said, you have to get on board or step all the way off, I guess.

That’s it. That’s absolutely it. It’s interesting. I come prepared knowing the history, so there’s a calmness. I know what happened.

You have truth on your side.

Yeah. You can say whatever you want, but …

Is it tiring or rejuvenating to sing these songs night after night? Is your next project going to be light-hearted kids’ songs or are you going to keep tugging this thread?

[Laughs] Good question!

I hope you keep tugging the thread until the whole thing unravels, but if you need a break, you do your self-care, Gids.

I go back and forth. I’m figuring out ways of not depleting myself. I emailed Joan Baez and asked, “How do you do this? You’ve been doing this for 50 years!” She had some really smart things to say. You have to figure out a way to tap into it without going all the way. You can’t go all the way every night. You’re supposed to be a channel, not provide all of it. So I’m getting better at it.

Every time I think, “Oh, yeah, I’m going to do a love album next,” I keep reading and I’m like, “No way!” [Laughs] There are too many things to say, too many things to write about.

Tug, tug.

Yeah.

Is there anything you feel that’s gotten lost in the conversation around this record that you want to make sure to point out? Or are people really getting it in the right way?

I gotta say, people are getting it. They’re getting the record and they’re getting the show. I’m just kind of stunned, sometimes, when I read the responses and what people have to say. It’s really great. I feel really good about it. It’s been pretty amazing.


Photo credit: John Peets

Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn to Host the 2017 IBMA Awards

Banjoists Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn are set to the host the International Bluegrass Music Association awards in September. Their presence on stage signals the genre’s expansive growth in recent years, reaching toward the edges in order to better understand the center. It also preempts their second full-length album, Echo in the Valley, due out October 6 on Rounder Records. The follow-up to their 2014 self-titled debut finds the husband-and-wife duo exploring new territory by restricting their creative path: They only used banjos on their latest set of songs, and ensured all recordings could be reproduced live. The resulting conversations they have — a mix of original songs (all co-written for the first time in their career as a duo) and covers of Clarence Ashley and Sarah Ogan Gunning — reveal a quiet muscularity. The limitations, rather than stripping away their imaginative prowess, instead lay fecund ground. If 2017 really is the “Year of the Banjo,” then Béla and Abby are its exciting exemplars, showcasing just how much fun can be had on the edge.

The IBMAs are part of the International Bluegrass Music Association, and will take place in Raleigh, North Carolina, on September 28. Tickets can be purchased through the IBMA website.

As a superstar banjo couple, do you have a conjoined nickname like Brangelina?

Béla Fleck: Abba.

I think that one’s already taken.

Abigail Washburn: I don’t think we create those ourselves. You’re going to have to create them.

Leave it to the people — that’s fair. What does it mean to you both that you’re hosting the IBMAs together?

Béla: I’m quite proud. I’ve had a long association with the IBMAs — from the first year when I won the banjo award, then a couple of years ago I did the keynote. For me, as a long-time bluegrass player and a person in that world, I’ve been a little disassociated, and this means I’m not anymore. I’m right in the center of it.

Abby: And for me, it’s an extreme honor. I’ve played music that’s certainly got a lot of bluegrass elements to it — the old-time Appalachian music that I’ve been playing with Uncle Earl for a long time, and the work that Béla and I do — so just to be so deeply included in the community, but also to be on stage in front of those wonderful people who are preserving and passing along this really bright and beautiful piece of American culture and tradition. I’m excited, too, because Béla and I and the folks that are heading up the awards presentation, are brainstorming lots of ideas to be playful and have fun. We’re excited to get to share the playfulness of our couplehood on stage.

Béla: I think we both look for ways to be creative with any situation that we’re involved in. We’re trying to figure out, “Okay, what could we do that would really be fun and really feel good to everybody?” We’ll see what we come with.

It seems like a crowd that appreciates laughter.

Béla: I think part of that is they’re all together. It’s very safe for bluegrass people. Out in life, we can sometimes feel we’re very unusual and odd, but at IBMA, everyone’s together and so everyone understands these subtle jokes about old-time bluegrass people we all love … or Sam Bush’s hair. I think that’s really special.

I know, like any genre, there are some players who get mired down in tradition and don’t want to see things change, but you’ve both pushed those boundaries in really exciting ways.

Béla: I would just say the very fact that we’ve been invited to do it … because I’ve spent a lot of my life outside of the bluegrass world playing other kinds of music, but I always take bluegrass with me. And Abby, you wouldn’t call her a bluegrass artist at her core, but she’s very associated with it. It’s showing that we’re all part of that family. We’re very respectful of the tradition; we just happen to live on the edge of it. But bluegrass is a very wide musical genre these days. We only lose by chopping off the edges. Even Earl Scruggs was excited about swing. I’m hopeful that this is just part of appreciating the fact that you need some outside blood every once in a while. Where would we be without “Polka on the Banjo”?

That’s what makes for such exciting growth. Well, BGS has dubbed 2017 “The Year of the Banjo” because there are so many projects that are either banjo-focused or banjo-inspired. What would you pin to that explosion?

Béla: I’m a little skeptical of those kinds of things. I think people are doing great work every year and, a lot of times, the great strides come gradually along the whole scope of the curve, but then, every once in a while, there’s a moment when everybody shows up at the same time with new stuff and we do make a big jump. In the past, some pretty wonderful things were happening in the dark that might not even be covered, and might be ignored by the world at large, but now there’s enough interest in the banjo that we can really talk about it and build some energy around it.

Going back to your keynote address from 2014, you mentioned how the banjo was almost a hindrance to your early career because of the way people viewed it. It’s gone through its own sea change in terms of popularity.

Béla: I think part of it is we aged away from Deliverance. It’s an old movie and you have to go find it now. When it came out, it was everywhere and the song “Dueling Banjos” was such a huge hit. It sort of cemented that image of what happened in the movie with how people thought about the banjo, which was an unfortunate piece of that whole phenomenon. I saw very gradually a shift from “Squeal like a pig” to “The banjo? That’s cool.”

Abby: I think there have been a lot of people working really hard for a long time, including yourself. I will compliment my husband, at this point. He’s been working for decades trying to show another side of the banjo to people. Now there are a lot of younger groups who have really taken to it because of Béla.

Béla: Well, a lot of other people, too.

Abby: The list goes on. It’s having an impact. The things that younger people see isn’t Deliverance, but the Bill Keiths and the Rhiannon Giddens, and, gosh, Mumford and Sons. Different kinds of people playing the banjo. There’s the most wonderful representation of banjo that’s come from the edges. It’s very cool.

Very much so. Turning to your forthcoming album, you set out limitations about what instruments you could use and recorded songs that could be recreated exactly on stage. Why set such staunch parameters around creating?

Abby: Limitations are actually extremely freeing, when you set the right ones. We really like being able to create a record that can be experienced live by people. And it’s created these new kinds of challenges for us, because we want to learn and grow and spread our wings as a duo, and working on the eccentricities and complexities to develop the nuance of duo performance means that we incorporated some new ideas into what we’re doing.

Béla: My only addition to what Abby said is that it’s awkward when you make a record that you can’t perform live. We wanted the honesty of the music to be very clear. It’s really very sparse duet music, but we’re finding a way to make it sound as big and powerful as we can with just our two instruments. It’s an art of recording that we aspire to do well at, because I love that part of the process myself. I’m a nerd recording-type guy.

I would say that this latest LP is quieter than your debut and yet it’s no less powerful. I kept thinking of musical conversations that ebb and flow so naturally. Has your playing bolstered other forms of communication between you two?

Béla: I would say we have suffered times on this record because we have a lot of stuff to figure out.

Abby: Suffered times, in terms of the fact that we had an infant. This time, we had higher expectations for ourselves, musically, so we took on new challenges that made for a lot of conflict at times.

Béla: Someone would have an idea, and rather than the other person going, “Yes, that’s perfect,” they’d say, “That’s cool, what if we tried this?” You might get your feelings hurt a little bit, but a little time would go by and we’d come back and go, “Okay, how can this be both of us contributing equally to the song?” I think we’re really good in our relationship at taking each other into account, but in the creative process, things are never exactly equal. You gotta fight for your ideas and then you have to find a way to change them to fit what the other person wants.

Abby: We decided we wanted to write the lyrics together, and that was different from the last record.

Béla: So that was hard for both of us, but we got to a place where we’re both very pleased, and that made our relationship stronger.


Photo credit: Jim McGuire 

Best of: Austin City Limits

As the longest-running music program in television history, PBS’s Austin City Limits holds a very special place in music history. While the show was originally developed by Bill Arhos, Paul Bosner, and Bruce Scafe to feature the thriving music scene in Austin, Texas, it is now famous for bringing a wide variety of musical genres into American living rooms each week. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Library and Archive is busy preserving 40-plus years of ACL footage, but here are five of our favorite performances you don’t want to miss:

Willie Nelson — “Bloody Mary Morning”

Let’s start where it all began! Willie Nelson made quite an impression on viewers and PBS, when he starred in the first episode of ACL recorded back in October 1974. We have him to thank for helping the show become the staple of music television it is today.

Shovels & Rope — “Bad Luck”

Husband-and-wife duo Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst give their all in this high-energy performance of “Bad Luck.” We think you’ll agree that the sped-up tempo of this live version makes it even better than the original studio recording. We can’t help but move along to the driving beat!

Rhiannon Giddens — “Julie”

In this web exclusive performance of her song “Julie,” Rhiannon Giddens breathes to life a conversation between a slave and her mistress during the Civil War, demonstrating her investment in the rich and complicated history of the South, as well as her enchanting storytelling abilities.

Shakey Graves — “Roll the Bones”

Austin native Alejandro Rose-Garcia, known professionally as Shakey Graves, exemplifies the wealth of hard-working musicians coming out of the Live Music Capital of the World today. For his ACL debut, Graves took to the stage with his electric guitar, suitcase kick-drum, and gritty voice for this crowd pleasing performance of “Roll the Bones.”

Sturgill Simpson — “I’d Have to Be Crazy”

It is only fitting to end with Sturgill Simpson’s cover of Willie Nelson’s “I’d Have to Be Crazy.” Simpson’s endearing demeanor and country twang do wonders in this tribute to the ACL Hall of Famer.

9 Times Clawhammer Banjo Was ALMOST as Good as Scruggs-Style

Scruggs-style banjo is cooler than clawhammer, like, nearly all of the time … except, perhaps, these nine times when clawhammer came as close to surpassing three-finger’s coolness as it ever has.

Rhiannon Giddens — “Following the North Star”

Like the time Rhiannon pulled clawhammer banjo’s African roots out of the instrument with every string pluck. And those bones! I mean, c’mon.

Bruce Molsky — “Cumberland Gap”

Or the time Bruce Molsky sat on a folding chair, stageside, in the middle of a muddy field, and proceeded to be a badass. As far as solo acts go, he is one of the most entertaining; he entrances audiences with just his voice and an instrument.

Allison de Groot with Jack Devereux and Nic Gareiss — “Black-Eyed Suzie”

Or the time when the core of every string band (fiddle + banjo) was augmented by a percussive dancer and, for a split second, we all forgot that bluegrass is a thing and Scruggs-style is the pinnacle.

Uncle Earl — “The Last Goodbye”

Or any time Abigail Washburn picks up an open-back. Seriously, if your banjo playing stacks up against Béla Fleck’s, you’re working on higher plane. Higher than most three-finger stylists? Maybe

Adam Hurt — “John Riley the Shepherd”

Then there was the time when we all learned that banjos could be this haunting. Something about a natural-hide, fretless, gourd banjo almost wipes resonator, tone-ringed, flanged banjos clear out of the mind … almost.

Giri & Uma Peters — “The Cuckoo”

Okay, this is actually objectively better than Scruggs-style banjo. Not only because our friend and hero Uma Peters is incredibly young, but she’s also massively talented. Look at that right hand form! This video went viral on Facebook — it has more than 160,000 views currently — and it’s surely because her sweeps are staggering.

Della Mae — “This World Oft Can Be”

There’s also the time Della Mae showed the world (which oft can be a down and lonesome place to be) that clawhammer banjo is, in fact, bluegrass — not just a lesser form of real (aka three-finger) banjo. Yeah. We said it.

Mark Johnson, Emory Lester, Steve Martin — “Forked Deer”

Finally, there was that time Mark Johnson (winner of the Steve Martin Prize for Excellence in Banjo & Bluegrass in 2012) traded solos with Steve Martin on Letterman. We’ll take banjo on national television in any form, three-finger or clawhammer.

ANNOUNCING: Two New Ways to Hang & Sang

Last summer, Team BGS noticed that Facebook was really pushing their Live videos. We also saw that our friends Ann Powers and Jewly Hight were doing some casual sessions on Ann’s porch here in Nashville for NPR Music using that medium. So we decided we should give it a whirl. Ani DiFranco was coming to town, and we asked if she’d be our first. We didn’t have a name for it or much of a plan at all, but Ani said yes and City Winery said we could use their lounge. On June 30, 2016, what would become Hangin’ & Sangin’ was born.

Since then, we’ve had Sam Bush, Lori McKenna, Uncle Earl, Indigo Girls, Chely Wright, Colin Hay, Natalie Hemby, Ruby Amanfu, Special Consensus, the Revivalists, Marc Broussard, the McCrary Sisters, Whiskey Myers, Glen Phillips, Mary Gauthier, and a slew of other fantastic artists on the show.

And we’re just getting started.

In the weeks ahead, we’ll be hangin’ with Johnnyswim, Angaleena Presley, Drew Holcomb, John Paul White, Rodney Crowell, Sunny Sweeney, Keb’ Mo’, Gaby Moreno, and so many more of your favorite artists at Hillbilly Central, right off Music Row, in the heart of Nashville. Join us every Friday at 2:30 pm CT on Facebook Live, catch us every Sunday at 6:30 am and Tuesday at 9 pm on WMOT Roots Radio, or listen to the podcast via iTunes any time you like. We’d love to have you hang with us.

 

Special thanks to Alison Brown, Garry West, Gordon Hammond, and everyone at Compass Records for lending us their historic studio. Additional thanks to Jessie Scott, Val Hoeppner, John Walker, Craig Havighurst, and the whole team at WMOT Roots Radio for giving us some air time. And an extra shout out to Josephine Wood for helping get this thing off the ground to begin with. We couldn’t be happier to partner with all of you.

ANNOUNCING: 2017 Americana Music Awards Nominations

Today, the nominees for the 16th annual Americana Music Association‘s Honors & Awards show were announced during an event at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum hosted by the Milk Carton Kids and featuring performances by Jason Isbell, Jerry Douglas, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley of the Drive-By Truckers, and Caitlin Canty. The winners will be announced during the Americana Honors & Awards show on September 13, 2017 at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, Tennessee.

Album of the Year:
American Band, Drive-By Truckers, Produced by David Barbe
Close Ties, Rodney Crowell, Produced by Kim Buie and Jordan Lehning
Freedom Highway, Rhiannon Giddens, Produced David Bither, Rhiannon Giddens and Dirk Powell
The Navigator, Hurray for the Riff Raff, Produced by Paul Butler
A Sailor’s Guide to Earth, Sturgill Simpson, Produced by Sturgill Simpson

Artist of the Year:
Jason Isbell
John Prine
Lori McKenna
Margo Price
Sturgill Simpson

Duo/Group of the Year:
Billy Bragg & Joe Henry
Drive-By Truckers
Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives
The Lumineers

Emerging Artist of the Year:
Aaron Lee Tasjan
Amanda Shires
Brent Cobb
Sam Outlaw

Song of the Year:
“All Around You,” Sturgill Simpson, Written by Sturgill Simpson
“It Ain’t Over Yet,” Rodney Crowell (featuring Rosanne Cash & John Paul White), Written by Rodney Crowell
“To Be Without You,” Ryan Adams, Written by Ryan Adams
“Wreck You,” Lori McKenna, Written by Lori McKenna and Felix McTeigue

Instrumentalist of the Year:
Spencer Cullum, Jr.
Jen Gunderman
Courtney Hartman
Charlie Sexton

Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble: Tearing Down the Wall

Election years are rife with divisive rhetoric, with 2016 perhaps taking the cake — thanks to deeply split parties and a man named Donald Drumpf blathering about building a literal wall between Mexico and the United States — for the most inflammatory, insufferable year yet. It’s during times like these that people often turn to art for comfort, whether through searching for answers in protest music or simply turning up the volume to drown out all of the noise. 

It’s appropriate, then, that Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble just released their latest album, Sing Me Home. It is an eclectic collection of genre-defying songs put together by Ma and his virtuosic group of performers and composers, whose backgrounds span 20 countries. The Ensemble is built on collaboration and cross-cultural conversation, an approach that sees players taking turns leading the group, choosing and arranging songs that either represent their cultural heritage or contain personal significance. The resulting music would best be described as what Ma calls “humanist” more than it could easily fit any genre label or regional attribution.

“What I love about the Ensemble is that there are so many people who can both be part of a group but also can lead a group,” he explains. “The idea is that obviously everyone has such individual personality and identity and voice that you want to celebrate it. Cristina [Pato], for example, is from Galicia in the northern part of Spain. She was a rock musician bagpipe player and played in sort of a girl band as a teenager and then came to the States. She’s learned so much about the cross-cultural references that went back and forth between Spain, Portugal, North and South America, and Africa. She found a way to bring all of her experiences in both Galicia and the United States together. So that’s another wonderful way of her leading us, taking us to a place that is familiar to her and that we were guests and then became participants in.”

Accordingly, listening to Sing Me Home takes you on a sonic trip across the globe, hopping from India to Portugal within the span of a couple minutes. In addition to representing their traditions through song selection, Ensemble members also had the opportunity to choose the album’s impressive roster of guest musicians, which includes Abigail Washburn, Sarah Jarosz, Bill Frisell, Shujaat Khan, and many others.

“[The guest roster] is all chosen by different Ensemble members,” Ma says. “Colin [Jacobsen] loved Martin Hayes, the fiddler, so he initiated that and that was fantastic. In each case it was, I think, friendships. Kayhan [Kalhor] brought the great Indian sitarist Shujaat Khan. They’d been playing together for 45 years and they are like family to one another. So I think friendships, that’s key. Friendships where the trust and the admiration for what somebody does are probably the key ingredients that made all of those relationships work.”

Rhiannon Giddens also guests on the album, adding vocals to a remarkable version of the classic folksong “St. James Infirmary Blues” that the Ensemble arranged after accordion player Michael Ward-Bergeman heard the tune in a London pub, worked through it with a group of Romanian musicians, and ultimately brought it to Silk Road. Giddens, known for both her solo work and as part of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, adds an Appalachian touch, seamlessly bridging the gaps between her own North Carolina upbringing, Ward-Bergeman’s Romanian flourishes, and the cover’s fortuitous origin in a British pub.

“She is so fantastic,” Ma says of Giddens. “I’m so moved by what she does. I don’t know what it is. It’s so strong and so powerful and it’s like she’s giving 100 percent. It’s so authentic. It’s just amazing.”

Even with such a talented group of performers and composers, bringing those seemingly disparate elements together was no easy task. Ensemble member Johnny Gandelsman, who produced the album in addition to playing violin, was able to do exactly that. “Johnny is our heart and soul,” Ma says. “And he actually did put his heart and soul into it. He is so immensely talented. Sometimes, when people have so much talent, you can actually not know how to go about doing it all. But he has such a gift for organizing, for getting everybody lined up, making everything go on time, making guests feel comfortable. It was amazing because we never knew that side existed in him.”

For Ma, making great music is important, but uniting players across cultural lines and providing listeners with global reference points they may not have otherwise are the utmost goals of the Ensemble. In an election year, especially, Ma sees music and culture as invaluable components of civilized society, and as a chief method through which damaging walls between social and cultural groups get torn down.

“It’s not about, ‘We must build a wall.’ It becomes a much more nuanced approach to looking at people, traditions, and, in that context, you can look at socio-political and economic situations,” Ma says. “Without the culture, we get into having a war and not planning for what happens afterward. With the culture, you know what you’re getting into. You think carefully about what to do afterward. When you think about how your friends will react to some information you might bring, you’re careful about the way you say it, the tone. And this is true of everything. I think that’s where cultural knowledge can really help. We may not be able to solve the situation, but at least we can help add nuance to the way certain communications are made.” 

Sing Me Home is nothing if not nuanced, both in its musical performances and its meticulous homage to the home countries of the Ensemble members. That it still manages to balance that attention to detail with a scope that — sonically and socially — encompasses such a diverse range of perspectives is a testament to the talent, vision, and kindness of those involved with the group. Ma’s own assessment of the music is spot on: This is human music (or, let’s be honest, superhuman — we’re talking about Yo-Yo Ma, after all), made for and by people who care deeply for others, regardless of borders or party affiliations. 

“We want to be a society that is actually open, not only to one another, but open humanistically,” Ma says. “We just want to make sure that we’re dealing with humans as three-dimensional people and not just as statistics. So, even though we may not be able to solve the situation, the least we can do is make sure that the dignity of humans is always in everybody’s mind, no matter which sector they’re coming from, in trying to solve a problem. And I think the music does that.”


Lede photo: Kayhan Kalhor and Yo-Yo Ma. Photo by Aykut Usletekin, courtesy of International Izmir Festival

Rhiannon Giddens, ‘Better Get It Right the First Time’

Evolution is a strange and perplexing thing. It’s created bees that keep the flowers blooming, trees that keep the air clean, creatures that shift their colors to hide from their predators and blend in among the beauty. So much of nature has grown and changed to work more harmoniously than ever, constantly adapting to circumstances greater than itself. This is why it’s sometimes difficult to understand why one of the world’s most brilliant beings — humans — so often seem to move perilously along a path that’s in the opposite direction of progress.

Rhiannon Giddens’ sophomore LP, Freedom Highway, is about that very road: the road on which we’ve traipsed time and time again with holes in our shoes and weariness in our hearts, but never seem to take those final steps away from our eternal patterns. For every triumph, every leap, there are 10 Philando Castiles to remind us how long the highway to true freedom really is. Giddens tackles this on “Better Get It Right the First Time,” a tale of police brutality laced with punishing harmonies, urgent horns, and a rap that fills in all the blanks. “Better Get It Right the First Time” is a loaded phrase — a word of warning to a Black man who has no room for error when it comes to the police, a mournful recognition of how there are no second chances once bullets fly, and a shameful call to humanity which has had so many damn chances to just get it right. But Giddens didn’t call this album Freedom Highway — after the legendary Staple Singers’ civil rights anthem of the same name — because she’s ready to give up hope. We evolve, highways go on, and, eventually, that first time will finally be our last.

BGS Celebrates Black History Month

February is Black History Month and, in celebration, we’ve been going through our archives and re-reading some of our favorite pieces about Black artists working in the roots community. Here are 10 of those stories:

Counsel of Elders: Taj Mahal on Understanding the World — The legendary bluesman shares his knowledge of African music and emotional intelligence in this 2016 interview. Read on to find out why, “If you don’t like my peaches, dont bother me,” are words to live by.

Music Maker Relief Foundation: Keeping the Blues Alive — North Carolina organization Music Maker is one of the most important resources for regional blues musicians hoping to get their music recognized. This interview with founder Timothy Duffy gives an overview of just how they do it. BONUS: Check out Music Maker’s new Black History Month podcast here.

Counsel of Elders: Bobby Rush on Staying Sexy — The title says it all: funky bluesman Bobby Rush offers a crash course in staying sexy, and discusses his newest album, Porcupine Meat.

Squared Roots: Rhiannon Giddens Studies the Songs of Dolly Parton — We learn a bit about how Giddens developed her phenomenal musical craft in this interview. Giddens discusses Parton’s songwriting, feminism and razor-sharp brain.

A Conversation with Jamaal B. Sheats, Director of Fisk University’s Art Galleries — Nashville HBCU Fisk University is home to one of the South’s most impressive collections of visual arts, drawing largely from the personal collection of Georgia O’Keeffe herself. The gallery’s curator speaks about working with the collection, as well as the role of visual art in protest.

Sitch Sessions: Dom Flemons, “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad” — This session with Dom Flemons will forever be one of our favorites, with the former Carolina Chocolate Drop member reimagining one of our most beloved folk songs on a beautiful Portland day.

Lightning Bolt Writing: A Conversation with Yola Carter — Yola Carter is one of the most exciting young acts in roots music. In this interview, she discusses her quick rise to notoriety, a forthcoming debut album and institutional racism.

Son Little and the Truth of Absolutes — The Philadelphia blues artist discusses his musical breakthrough, working with Mavis Staples and the evolution of contemporary R&B in this 2015 interview. 

Aaron Neville: Sharing Edifying Messages in a Dark Time — If musical styles were counted as lifetimes, then Aaron Neville has lived several. Known for his almost instantly recognizable falsetto, Neville has sung in all sorts of flavors throughout his 50-year career: doo wop, pop, gospel, country, soul, funk. You name it, he’s likely sung it.

On Histories, Stories, and Identities: A Conversation with Leyla McCalla — Both literally and figuratively, Leyla McCalla’s music exhibits a web of spatial exchange, particular histories bumping up against one another in ways that reveal their convergences.