Tray Wellington: Black Banjo and Hip-hop/Folk Fusion

According to 20th century genius Louis Armstrong, “Man, all music is folk music. You ain’t never heard no horse sing a song, have you?”

Yet it is not universally accepted that hip-hop is folk music. The almost perfectly named folkhop derives from bhangra, not any rap/folk fusion – although DJs are involved. During the 1960s folk revival featured some cherished artists like Richie Havens addressed civil rights and the contemporary scene. As well as Bob Dylan presaging spoken word and folk with “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” while wise men in Black communities were signifyin’ on the streets. The 2000s saw acts Gangstagrass and Nappy Roots pioneer mixing bluegrass or other down-home sounds and themes with hip-hop.

This lineage notably continues in the current decade with Cleo Reed, whose music has been referred to as folk rap, and Greensboro, North Carolina artist/activist Justin “Demeanor” Harrington who combines 1990s hip-hop production and banjo samples, proclaiming, “I learned that it’s not that folk is separate from rap; folk music just means the music of the people. Rap is one of the illest folk music that’s ever existed.”

On his new album Heart On The Table, Tray Wellington – also from North Carolina – honors kinship to Harrington in pursuing hip-hop/folk fusion by featuring him on the fourth track “DEMEANOR // I’M WITH IT.” Wellington’s 2022 debut album Black Banjo infused traditional bluegrass with jazz styles while amplifying the Black Southeastern sources of roots music. He had already been lauded with the International Bluegrass Music Association Momentum Award in 2019 for Instrumentalist of the Year, before going on to earn the Steve Martin Banjo Prize in 2024 for innovation in bluegrass and on the five-string. In recent years, Wellington has also served in Black banjo supergroup and string band New Dangerfield (now on indefinite hiatus) alongside prominent roots artists Kaia Kater, Jake Blount, and Nelson Williams, taking the roots festival orbit by storm.

Wellington is a standout in the Black banjo movement of the past 20 years that seeks to reclaim the African-derived instrument and the lost world of Black American roots music created in the South at the crossroads of Scottish, Irish, and Indigenous styles. He has long been taking runs at bluegrass boundaries, covering songs like his reworking of Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness.” New songs “INTERLUDE,” which features Sierra Hull, and title track “<3 On The Table,” featuring A.G. Sully, are the greatest on the new album.

BGS spoke to Wellington about his challenging journey.

What is it about North Carolina? Why do so many legendary musicians – from George Clinton and Chuck Brown to Elizabeth Cotten and Roberta Flack – hail from there?

Tray Wellington: You know, I think North Carolina, as a state, it’s just really cool, because it has so many different cultural identities. I think there’s so many different regions of the state that have their own unique musical identity, as well as personal identity and cultural identity. I think, because of that, where you have such a wide array of people in this one state, it just creates a bunch of natural vibrancy, you know, for the arts. And I think a lot of people just grasp onto that, and it just produces a lot of really amazing artists, because like, John Coltrane’s from there.

I used to live in Charlotte; moved there right after the original Black Banjo Gathering in Boone and met and got to know the embryonic Carolina Chocolate Drops and the legendary Joe Thompson. Where are you from in NC?

I’m originally from Ashe County, North Carolina, which is really close to Boone – 15 minutes away.

How did your journey with the banjo begin?

I was originally playing electric guitar for about a year, and when I was going through my grandpa’s CD collection one day I found a CD of Doc Watson. I remember when I found this CD, I remember listening to it. Doc Watson is a musician from Deep Gap, North Carolina. I was listening to this CD and I just got super invested in the sound of it, and just the overall vibe of the music. There was at the time a club at my middle school called the Mountain Music Club. I joined the Mountain Music Club to learn guitar, so I started doing some flatpicking there and in that class was when I heard banjo in person for the first time. It drew me in and I was like, “Whoa! What is this?” I just kind of became enamored with it.

I always loved banjo because I grew up watching Hee Haw. I’m likely much older than you.

What was it like winning the Steve Martin Banjo Prize?

That was super cool, I was super honored. I remember when I was like 14, 15 years old, when I was looking at my life goals, you know, one of the things I remember hearing about is the Steve Martin Prize. So, it happening was like a childhood dream come true, and I just think it was one of those moments that it’s so cool to be recognized by all these heroes of mine for my work. At first, I did the classic Southern thing like, “I don’t deserve it.” But I think I bring a unique perspective to the instrument and I was honored to have been recognized in that way.

To talk about the new album, Heart On The Table, what made you pursue bridging the gap between hip-hop and bluegrass?

Yeah, I think for me my biggest thing was when I was talking about storytelling. I looked at what my favorite storytelling was, it was hip-hop music. When I was first kind of conceptualizing this album, I didn’t even know what it was gonna be at first. I made all these tracks at home, because I’ve been doing hip-hop production for a few years now, too, and then also playing banjo. I remember I was making all these tracks with hip-hop stuff and I wasn’t putting banjo on it. I was hanging out with one of my friends and he was like, “Why don’t you add banjo to that?” And I was like, “What do you mean?” I had never thought of that. I never thought about mixing it. And then when I started doing it, I slowly started coming up with this collection of songs. “False Idols” was the first song on the album and I remember that was one of the early songs I did in that style. I found a way to make the banjo fit perfectly in there.

You’ve obviously been working with Kaia Kater, but how did you select the other artists feature on the new album?

Yeah, there’s a couple different ways. Some of them were old friends of mine, like Elora Dash, who was on “False Idols,” for instance. She was my vocal teacher in Raleigh when I was there and I’ve known her for a long time. I really, really respect her music. And then Demeanor, who’s on track [4]. I’ve worked with him before, we’ve done tracks. We have a release event together, we’ve done a few tracks together at his studio in Greensboro, and I was like, “He has to be on it.” And Lizzie No was a first-time collaborator for me.

The most riveting song of the collection is the title track featuring A.G. Sully. With its jazzy blend it reminds me of my brotha Gil Scott-Heron. What is the source of the song?

That was another song that I had made before we even recorded the album. And we didn’t know it was going to be the title track, actually. Then, when we were thinking about the new band, we were like, “How do we put this together?” I actually rewrote my verses for it after we re-recorded it, because I was like, “I need something that fits this vibe better.”

I remember the first thing I heard:

Is your heart on the table?
Did it fall?
How could I let you know?
Who could have seen the call?
Nothing to do at all.

It just kind of came to me naturally, and I remember I wrote it all down. When A.G. got it, I sent her all the lyrics and I was like, “I think this is kind of the vibe.” And she knocked it out of the park on the hook.

Since the Library of Congress Black Banjo Renaissance event featuring Demeanor is happening in July in D.C., do you see your work and his as parallel?

Yeah, I mean, for me, I have a lot of respect for what the brother does and I think we have two different approaches to [fusing folk and rap]. It was one of those things where definitely he’s an inspiration to me and we’ve been friends for a while now. I wouldn’t say we, either one of us, necessarily did it first or maybe around the same time, [we] just kind of naturally did it. I know he really likes my stuff, too, so it’s cool.

I am in the Black Banjo Reclamation Project NYC chapter. What would you like those folks coming up to know?

I would just say, don’t limit yourself. I think it’s the main thing I always tell people, because I think sometimes we can get caught up in people trying to sway our narrative. And as a community, the most important thing we can do is cultivate individuality. Ultimately, that should be the main message on the flight.

How do you challenge the consistent limitations for Black roots artists? Since we’re coming out of Black Music Month [June] and I noted that the War & Treaty were on the BET Awards as this lone roots outlier…

You look at the country music artists, for instance. You look at Morgan Wallen. He says the N-word, gets canceled, and then ends up becoming one of the best-selling artists of all time, because he said the N-word. And because all of his fans rallied around him and were defending him. Then he immediately took it back and said, “Well actually, I can be this controversial, because my fans will still buy my music.” White artists are gonna get away with a lot more.

I feel like the judgment is so much higher, you know? I feel like if you’re a Black artist and you release one bad song, people are gonna be [upset]. But a white artist could release a whole album of bad songs and people would still listen and not be as critical. I think sometimes, too, there can be an expectation of Black artists to always have to discuss certain issues. When ultimately you can talk about anything, and you should be allowed to talk about anything, and if you’re not touching on this one thing right now, it doesn’t mean you don’t like it. You know what I’m trying to say? Does that make sense?

A big thing I try to challenge is we shouldn’t have to always talk about racial issues in the world on every single song to be able to get traction, but sometimes that’s how it feels like it is.

What do you think accounts for the attraction of new Black players to roots music now?

I think one of the cool things we’ve seen in the last couple years is there’s been a big resurgence of it, and I think the Beyoncé album, surprisingly, was a big thing. There’s a whole lot of debate around that, because ultimately people can argue if it was country or not – that’s not my place to say. I remember there was a really good article that said don’t forget all the other people who have been putting in work for 20-plus years to try to get people [interested in Black roots music].

And all these artists who have been doing the work for the past 20 years should get that same recognition, Black people in roots music. That one of the biggest artists in the world that can highlight this thing that for so long made a lot of people feel like, “I don’t belong in this.” If they can help people jump over that barrier and see that all people do belong in this; it’s done a lot for the movement, that I’ve seen.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

This content brought to you in partnership with Preston Thompson Guitars.

Meet This Year’s Steve Martin Banjo Prize Winners

On Tuesday, December 17, actor, comedian, and banjoist Steve Martin and the board of his Steve Martin Banjo Prize – now in its fourteenth year – announced this year’s winners of the $25,000 prize. Founded in 2010, the Steve Martin Banjo Prize for Excellence in Banjo has since awarded more than $500,000 in unrestricted prize funds to banjo players across the genre and style spectrum. The inaugural awardee in 2010 was modern banjo luminary Noam Pikelny; in successive years the list of recipients has grown rapidly, including such players, leaders, and composers as Rhiannon Giddens, Terry Baucom, Don Vappie, Jake Blount, Victor Furtado, Eddie Adcock, and many more.

This year, the prize’s two recipients are banjo pickers on the cutting edge of the instrument’s bright future in two distinct styles, Allison de Groot (one of the foremost old-time, clawhammer/frailing banjo players of her generation) and Tray Wellington (a Scruggs-style picker with a striking postmodern, newgrass approach.)

“Exploring had always been part of my personality since I was a kid,” Wellington explained via press release. “Music is the same way for me. Since I started playing banjo at 14, I had ideas for how I could constantly expand my musical vision and make my personality shine through banjo. Every day I am still on that journey and cannot wait to continue this pursuit.”

And exploration is certainly a hallmark of Wellington’s approach to the instrument. His right-hand approach is decidedly traditional, it’s powerful and assertive with limitless drive. While his left hand is mind-bending in its virtuosity, combining influences and textures from envelope pushers like Pikelny and Béla Fleck, he pulls an equal measure of inspiration from outside of bluegrass and roots music, as well.

Take for instance his rendition of Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness.” A layperson or bluegrass passerby might not ever expect a Kid Cudi cover performed at a roots music festival, let alone a straight-ahead bluegrass festival, but in almost every instance and context this writer has heard Wellington and band perform the number, the reaction from his audiences is electric. A buzzing excitement ripples through the crowd, murmuring recognition spreading like the most virulent contagion known to man (banjo) always does.

His live performances and through-composed instrumental pieces are out of this world, like his original “Moon in Motion 1” and “Spiral Staircase” from his most recent EP, Detour to the Moon. His 2022 full-length debut, Black Banjo, was critically acclaimed and well-received in bluegrass and beyond, combining new acoustic, jazz, Americana, and ‘grass together in his own particular blend. The project was something of a statement of perspective for Wellington, but that point of view has been anything but static since Black Banjo.

A nominee for multiple IBMA Awards – and 2019 winner of their Momentum Instrumentalist Award – Wellington is certainly right at home on bluegrass festival stages, but his music is expansive, broad, and fully-realized no matter the context. It’s clear he makes his musical and repertoire choices for himself first and foremost and following that, for a forward-thinking, equally broad audience to whom he’s directly bringing his songs and story.

This is the power of a picker like Wellington, to energize and electrify an audience – whether diehard banjo fans or new initiates – with a sound totally his own. It’s exactly how Earl Scruggs became the legendary figure of American music that he is today, by causing thousands of “What the hell is this magic?!” reactions from his listeners and bringing countless scores into the music with that inimitable sound alone.

For her part, de Groot is also a committed borderless musical explorer: “It still feels just as exciting as it did the first day I picked it up,” she relays in a press release. “I feel like I could live 100 lifetimes and explore the banjo.”

Meanwhile, her voice on the instrument would already seem to indicate multiple lifetimes lived on the banjo. A veteran of groups such as Bruce Molsky’s Mountain Drifters, the Goodbye Girls (with Lena Jonsson, Molly Tuttle, and Brittany Karlson), and duo outfits with folks like Nic Gareiss and Tatiana Hargreaves, de Groot has an absolutely idiosyncratic approach to old-time, clawhammer, and frailing styles.

Perhaps her most jaw-dropping achievement – to this banjo player, at least – is how melodic, intricate, and grounded her playing is. De Groot plays with the precision of a three-finger player and with a very similar rhythmic foundation, making it particularly compelling when she leans into melodic intricacies usually left to bluegrass strains of banjo playing. Her execution of Irish tunes on old-time banjo, too, are fantastic and baffling. How does she do it??

There may not be a more lyrical clawhammer banjo player around today, though de Groot has excellent company (Cathy Fink, Brad Kolodner, Victor Furtado, Nick Hornbuckle) in this rarest of niches she inhabits. Don’t get it twisted, though, this is a picker with grit; this frailing has teeth. At the same time, her playing never strays toward iconoclastic banjo pitfalls like showing off or territorialism or horse-measuring contests.

Her style is incisive, deliberate, and bold, and at the same time liberated by her commitment to listening and making music in partnership with her collaborators, whoever they may be and whatever styles they may dabble in. While the prize and the visibility it lends are beyond well-deserved, it’s clear that de Groot’s reputation as a superlative banjo technician is already well known across musical communities – take, for example, her and Hargreaves’ recent collaboration with guitarist and composer Yasmin Williams on “Hummingbird.”

As evidenced by this short primer on each of these fine banjo pickers, Wellington and de Groot are excellent choices to receive the Steve Martin Banjo Prize as selected by the award’s board – which currently includes Steve Martin, Alison Brown, Béla Fleck, Noam Pikelny, Anne Stringfield, Tony Trischka, Pete Wernick, Johnny Baier, Kristin Scott Benson, Roger Brown, Jaime Deering, Dom Flemons, Paul Schiminger, Chris Wadsworth, and Garry West.

Both Wellington and de Groot are young players poised to open minds and open up the instrument in exciting, engaging, and innovative ways – because that’s what the banjo has always been about.

Today, December 17, at 5:30pm ET / 2:30pm PT, viewers can tune into Deering Live to enjoy a livestream celebrating the two winners featuring Alison Brown as co-host and including interviews and performances. Tune in here.


Photo Credit: Allison de Groot by Phil Cook; Tray Wellington courtesy of the Steve Martin Banjo Prize.

From Banjo to Opera, Rhiannon Giddens Brings History to the Stage

An interview with Rhiannon Giddens these days feels like a game show lightning round. Since winning the Steve Martin Banjo Prize in 2016 and a stunning $625,000 MacArthur Fellowship in 2017, the songwriter, singer, and instrumentalist has widened her scope and let a range of fine and folk arts projects flood into her idea-driven world. When we caught up with her in Nashville, for example, she was in rehearsals for Lucy Negro Redux, a multi-layered original ballet about Shakespeare, his purported black mistress and issues of identity and otherness. Working with poetry by Caroline Randall Williams, she composed the music with one of her latest collaborators, jazz pianist and world percussionist Francesco Turrisi. They’ve made a duo album set for release this year.

Here, Giddens speaks about her broader artistic scope and her attention on how women of color negotiate the past and present.

How different is your creative life now versus five years ago?

Oh my god. It’s like: “Who was that person?” I don’t even know. I am so grateful for that time. I was transitioning from the Carolina Chocolate Drops to my solo career. But it’s definitely become more of a creative life. I still am very much an interpreter. I’m very interested in giving old songs new life and putting them through a lens of today and I think there are a lot of things that are left on the shelf that need to be aired. But I definitely have found over the years that I’m finding more and more of my creative life to be in writing and collaborating. I’m very rarely going to sit in a room and write stuff. It’s like I write things and then I want to work with somebody and develop them or have a reason to do it.

So my collaborative opportunities have really grown since I left the band because it’s a lot easier to do things as your own person. There are all these things you have to think about when you’re in a band that I don’t have to think about any more. And it’s really allowed me to focus on the woman side of things, which is hard to do when you’re in a band full of boys, you know? Now I feel I can focus a bit more on what I’m finding is very important and front and center for me, which are women’s issues and women of color, in particular. Dealing with the history of what we’ve had to go through in this country and in other places, and what does that mean? And creating platforms for other women of color to have their voices heard, in my limited capacity.

You have background in opera, which may be the most collaborative of all the fine arts, with all its component parts. And you’ve started doing Aria Code, an opera podcast. What’s that about?

I was approached by Metropolitan Opera to be guest on this podcast and it just turned into becoming the host. And that’s been really fun. The wonderful producer Marrin Lazyan, she’s put it all together and I’m there to provide context and if there’s stuff that jibes particularly well with what I know like Otello, the Verdi opera, I can bring in my expertise on blackface and things like that. It’s been great.

And I’m going to be in my first production next year as a mature artist. I’m doing Porgy & Bess with the Greensboro Opera. It’s to open up the new arts center in Greensboro. So it’s kind of part of my involvement in my hometown. And also an opportunity to sing Bess, which I’ve never been able to do. So opera’s come back into my world in kind of unexpected ways. I’m writing an opera. I sing with orchestras on a regular basis. So it’s been really wonderful to see that come back into my life because it is something that I love so much and that I have spent a lot of my years doing. So we’ll see where it goes. I don’t know!

You produced the album Songs of Our Native Daughters, which brings you together with Amythyst Kiah, Allison Russell, and Leyla McCalla. What motivated this and how do you put these women into context?

It was an amazing opportunity. I was already working on this idea of early American musical history and speaking to it through the music of the banjo and the music of minstrelsy for Smithsonian Folkways. So it took this little turn and became a record with these really strong women of color. With my co-producer Dirk Powell, we were talking about who we wanted to be on this project, and that’s where we ended up. I was like, “Oh, this is where it needs to go.” From then on it took this slightly different path down to really talking about the woman of color’s experience in America and having a platform to respond to that in an artistic way.

And to each of the women who came in, I said, look, bring your banjo. And let’s talk about what it means to be a woman of color here and what it means to have ancestors who’ve gone through what they’ve gone through. It was an amazing experience to watch them feel like they had this space to write about these things that maybe they’ve touched on, but to have days to focus on these themes and these ideas. It was a beautiful collaborative thing. I’ve worked with each of them in various ways so I just knew it was going to work. And it worked better than I could have ever really dreamed. It went places I’d never have considered. That’s why you pick people and then you let the project do what it does instead of going, “It’s not exactly what I envisioned.” Well, usually because it’s better! So leave it alone and let it do what it’s going to do.

In this respect, do you see yourself as a mentor, or as a leader in this widening and overdue effort to infuse folk and roots music with more voices?

I’m always looking for ways to facilitate. People in these positions, like the folks putting on the Cambridge Folk Festival or at Smithsonian Folkways, they’re looking to me, and I’m like, “Hey these people, because they’re awesome.” And if that’s how I can use whatever little power I have in the world, that’s what I want to use it for. I’ve got my own career and it’s very important to me, but that’s also very important to me–creating the community of people that are doing this.

Because that was the strength of the Carolina Chocolate Drops. We were a band and we had each other. In a time where, even less than now, people were like, “Black people on banjos? What?”, we had each other and I know what that community can mean as an artist. It really gives you strength. And that was my idea with Our Native Daughters and with anything I’m (doing). Amythyst has opened for me. Leyla was part of the Chocolate Drops. JT and Ally (Birds of Chicago) — I’ve definitely championed them. I think that’s what we need to do for each other. If I’m in a position where somebody who has power asks me, I’m going to spread that around. Because I think that’s what you’re supposed to do.

They tell writers that it’s better to show than to tell. And it strikes me that roots music is moving from a phase of ‘telling’ about inclusion to a phase of showing. Is that fair to say?

I think so. I’m definitely moving that way in my own life. There was a lot of talking with the Chocolate Drops because you had to educate people. But there was also a lot of just doing. We found the balance; we’re going to contextualize this, but then we’re just going to play it. Because the facts are the facts and we’re not in a position to shame you about not knowing this. We didn’t know this. But I definitely found that over time, I’m tired. I just want to play and sing.

And the next record of mine is not a project. It’s not a mission. It’s coming out in May (I think) and Francesco and I did that together. It’s really all the worlds that I’ve been talking about and being in all together. I just want somebody to put it on and listen to it, and they don’t know anything about me, and they come away – I want them to love the record but I also want them to feel this aspect of nobody owns any sounds. Nobody owns any experiences in humanity. We’re taking all the sounds you heard in the ballet and the notion that humans have been moving since the beginning, and we’ve been affecting each other since the beginning.

So a religious trance drum from Iran works perfectly well with an Appalachian a cappella ballad. Because they’re representing universal human truths. It would be really nice for people to just experience that through sound and through the experience of the songs. And of course we’ll talk about it. But I’m kind of moving toward showing and inhabiting all the work that’s come up until now and living in that and taking that to where it needs to go.


Craig Havighurst covers music for WMOT Roots Radio. Hear the interview.