Tag: The Country Gentlemen

MIXTAPE: AJ Lee & Blue Summit’s Songs That Stick With You

Posted on by Editor

Hi, we’re AJ Lee & Blue Summit! We’ve spent our ten years as a band playing for people all across the country (and occasionally the world) and these are some songs we’ve picked up along the way. We love a cover song, it’s the start to everyone’s musical journey. From day one picking up a guitar, every song you learn teaches you something in return. Many will stick with you throughout your life, songs that become a part of you. And for us, to perform them is to share that part of ourselves with you, and give you the songs back as we see them.

Some of these songs transport us back to childhood, listening to the radio from a carseat, some to our teen years wringing every second out of the too-short nighttime at a bluegrass festival, and some are recent additions, songs that grabbed us in one way or another and inspired us. These songs are probably familiar to you, listeners, from your own musical memories. They’re not all deep cuts. What they are, though, are songs that have shaped us, and songs that have been part of our live show, some for many years. They’ve become favorites of ours and I hope soon, of yours. — Cheers, AJLBS

“Meet Me in the Morning” – Bob Dylan

I’m a huge Dylan fan and this is my favorite album of his. His songwriting is a little more serious than it was on some of his ’60s stuff and his voice hit its all time peak in my opinion. I’ve covered most of the songs on Blood on the Tracks at various different times but after playing this one with the band for a few years it felt like we’d really found our own groove. – Sully

“Matterhorn” – The Country Gentlemen

This is a song I grew up listening to. My dad would put on bluegrass in the living room in the background and I usually didn’t know the names of the bands or songs but this one stuck out to me and I’d often request it. It’s always been one of my favorite bluegrass songs and brings back a lot of childhood memories. – Sully

“Who Walks In When I Walk Out” – Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys

I heard this song for the first time a few years ago while listening to a bunch of Bob Wills. His recording, played fast and energetic, made me want to do a version with the band sort of like his but with a bit of Django Reinhardt influence thrown in as well. – Sully

“Drivin’ Nails in My Coffin” – Rhonda Vincent

“Drivin’ Nails In My Coffin” was written by Jerry Irby, who originally recorded and released the song in 1945. I was inspired by Rhonda Vincent’s bluegrass version from her 2001 album, The Storm Still Rages. Rhonda was one of my first inspirations as a female singer. – AJ

“Red Dirt Girl” – Emmylou Harris

“Red Dirt Girl” was written by Emmylou Harris and released in 2000. I first came across a version on her 2001 album, Hickory Wind, and fell in love with it. The story of a girl named Lilian who’s dreams were never achieved tug at my heartstrings every time! The weight of the lyrics and emotion in Emmylou’s voice attest to her superior songwriting and musicianship. When we recorded our version I was a little under the weather, but I believed it worked out for the better. I had to execute a more gentle approach than planned and I was actually happy to have some airy notes. – AJ

“Glendale Train” – New Riders of the Purple Sage

“Glendale Train” was written by John Dawson, lead singer and songwriter of the band New Riders of the Purple Sage. A few years ago we were practicing and a bandmate had the funny idea to stretch out the middle section into a funky psychedelic jam (which isn’t typical in traditional bluegrass music). For fun, we’ve kept that section of the song open for improvisation. – AJ

“Wish I Could Say I Was Drinking” – Cadillac Sky

“Wish I Could Say I Was Drinking” was written by Ashley Gorley and Cadillac Sky’s Bryan Simpson. Their album, Blind Man Walking, was released in 2007 – a very influential year for 10-year-old AJ. This band has been the most inspirational to me throughout my musical career. They had so many unique arrangements. I was sad when the group disbanded in 2011. – AJ

“Fishin’ in the Dark” – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

“Fishin’ in the Dark” was written by Jim Photoglo and Wendy Waldman. The song was first recorded by Ed Bruce in 1986, but was made famous by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in 1987. We decided to “bluegrassify” this country-rock classic by replacing the halftime feel with a more driving feel. Wherever you are, this song will make you feel like you’re out in the country laying where the “cool grass grows”. – AJ

“Tear My Stillhouse Down” – Gillian Welch

“Tear My Stillhouse Down” was written by Gillian Welch and first released by The Nashville Bluegrass band in 1995. Gillian followed up with her own version in 1996. Gillian is another of my most inspirational female singers/songwriters. – AJ

“It Takes One to Know One” – Jimmy Martin

“It Takes One to Know One” is a classic country song written by Harlan Howard and Freddie Hart. It’s one that I’ve heard sung in bluegrass jam circles all my life. To me, the theme of this song is giving trauma bonding. – AJ

“Soak Up the Sun” – Sheryl Crow

“Soak Up the Sun” was written in 2002 by Sheryl Crow and Jeff Trott. This song has been a longtime favorite of mine. It’s almost impossible to not sing along when the chorus comes around. I’ve listened through many rotations of the album C’mon C’mon, which features Sheryl’s iconic rock sound. – AJ

Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

The Stanley Brothers Clinch Country’s Top Honor

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

They started playing music as farm-bred young boys growing up amid the Appalachian mountains of Southwestern Virginia, sometimes using sticks of firewood to mime picking banjo and guitar.

A few years later, Ralph and Carter Stanley embarked on a 20-year professional journey as the Stanley Brothers. The music they created starting in 1946 lives on, bringing them widespread fame. It survives in their hundreds of live and studio recordings, and as a deep influence heard in cover performances by artists from Bob Dylan to Billy Strings, Vince Gill to Patty Loveless, Emmylou Harris to Ricky Skaggs, Elvis Costello to Dierks Bentley.

Carter, the older brother, lead singer, and guitarist, was born in 1925 and died tragically young in 1966, ending the brothers’ career as a duo. Banjoist and tenor singer Ralph, born in 1927, lived until 2016, building a legendary career of his own.

In March 2026, the Stanley Brothers achieved the highest honor available in this field, membership in the Country Music Hall of Fame. Their formal induction in October recognizes not only their distinctive body of creative, deep-roots music, but also the strong impact they have had on performers within and outside of bluegrass.

For years, Carter Stanley’s daughter Jeanie had led legions of family and fans to press acceptance of the brothers by the Country Music Association voter pool that picks new Hall of Fame inductees. In regular social media posts, Jeanie described previous bypasses of the act as ridiculous and called upon followers to write and implore CMA insiders to honor her father and uncle.

From a bluegrass point of view, it didn’t make sense to overlook an act recognized as one of a few foundational artists of the style, along with Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs, who were inducted in 1970 and 1985, respectively. But voters in the Veterans category of membership choose among acts eligible 45 years after each emerged in country music. This formula meant that the Stanley Brothers had been eligible since 1991, but also allowed more recent “veteran” stars such as Tanya Tucker to be honored in increasing numbers, with each year that passed.

For all the Stanley Brothers’ authenticity and artistic merit, they only enjoyed one Billboard chart hit, a jokey number called “How Far to Little Rock.” It says something that the Music-City-based CMA honored the brothers even though they never moved to Nashville and never joined the Grand Ole Opry during their years together. (Ralph became a member of the historic show in 2000.)

All of that aside, the Stanley Brothers’ Hall of Fame induction illustrates their increasing recognition as a cornerstone act, each year growing new legions of followers, both in America and far beyond. String-band-music phenomenon Billy Strings, who regularly performs for houses of more than 10,000 fans, features songs at each show that were first composed or brought to wide attention by Ralph and Carter Stanley. There’s no way to measure how much that exposure means.

Overall, the richness of the Stanleys’ sound and legacy means it pops up over and over again, not just in bluegrass or country settings, but also among pop acts. A story circulates that the Rolling Stones’ Keith Richards once mouthed “Stanley Brothers!” to a bandmate to illustrate the mournful backup sound he wanted for a performance.

In more formal recognition, the Library of Congress added the brothers’ rendition of the Albert Brumley composition “Rank Stranger” in 2008 to the prestigious National Recording Registry, an annual listing that “highlights the richness of the nation’s audio legacy.”

Elsewhere, “The brothers rose to fame performing traditional religious songs in an Appalachian bluegrass style marked by tight, high-pitched harmonies and strongly influenced by Bill Monroe,” their Encyclopedia Britannica entry reads in part.

Why include this Britannica language, even though it overemphasizes their gospel orientation? The Stanley Brothers’ acknowledgement in a top-rank information source shows the distance the brothers covered during their million-mile journey from a tough childhood, through countless challenges, to creative triumphs that have kept creating new fans in recent years.

Down Home

Born in rural Dickenson County, Virginia, the boys were raised by banjo-picking mother Lucy and ballad-singing father Lee Stanley among mountainside farms and busy lumber camps, living in an atmosphere of homegrown food, spring-drawn water, and lamplit rooms through their early years. Church music, sung unaccompanied in the traditional style, became a mainstay of the brothers’ own music, along with Celtic-derived story songs, neighbors’ country-string music, and eventually the commercial country music heard on a battery-powered radio. The music they learned emerged as what’s now called “pre-bluegrass” until Ralph and Carter first heard the riveting sounds of Bill Monroe and Earl Scruggs on WSM’s Grand Ole Opry.

Starting out on country radio stations such as Bristol’s legendary WCYB, the Stanley Brothers recorded their early sounds for the busy regional label Rich-R-Tone, then graduated to major labels Columbia and Mercury before winding up on Starday and King, as well as a handful of smaller outlets.

Many standards of bluegrass and country music, such as “I’m a Man of Constant Sorrow,” “The White Dove,” “Rank Stranger,” “How Mountain Girls Can Love,” “Pretty Polly,” “Harbor of Love,” “Angel Band,” and “Could You Love Me One More Time,” were written or adapted by Carter and Ralph Stanley.

Both brothers wrote songs, but it is Carter who has been recognized as perhaps the most gifted songwriter in the style. It wasn’t until the folk revival and the later country traditionalist movement that Stanley Brothers songs commonly reappeared in versions by other artists.

Covers by the Hundreds

Carter Stanley had co-written songs with bluegrass founder Monroe, and pitched his song “Going to the Races” in 1957 to the recently formed Washington, D.C.-based act the Country Gentlemen. The Gents’ recording of this song, released by the Stanleys in 1958 as “Gonna Paint the Town,” represented an early example of what would become hundreds of the brothers’ songs reflected in other artists’ recordings.

Bob Dylan’s 1962 release of “I’m a Man of Constant Sorrow” hasn’t been definitively linked to the Stanley Brothers, but decades of the folk legend’s work have reflected their influence. He’s performed a batch of Stanley-connected tunes – including “Hallelujah I’m Ready” and “Searching for a Soldier’s Grave” during his endless touring years. Dylan recorded “Rank Strangers” and “Driftin’ Too Far From the Shore” as solos, and “The Lonesome River” in a 1998 duet with Ralph.

Brotherly innovation, including the skyscraping “high-baritone” harmony, influenced members of the West Coast bluegrass scene going back to the 1960s, Byrds founding member Chris Hillman once said in an interview. The striking harmonies produced by Carter and Ralph likely played a role in the two-part sound the Byrds came up with when recording their first hit, Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man,” he said.

The influential Johnson Mountain Boys from the Washington, D.C., area helped move bluegrass back to its roots from a newgrassy direction in the early 1980s, serving up such Stanleys classics as “I Don’t Want Your Rambling Letters,” “Harbor of Love,” and “Our Last Goodbye.”

Elvis Costello, an artist who shook pop music in the 1970s, has been best known for hard-hitting, sometimes abrasive New Wave pop and rock. In a 2015 interview with New York Times writer A.O. Scott, Costello remembered early days embracing all sorts of country music: “From the ’70s through the mid-’80s, I absorbed all the American music, not just country music like Nashville country music or Bakersfield country music, but older, more traditional styles, even the Stanley Brothers and that stuff.”

Jammin’ Stanley-style

Before Billy Strings arose, a swath of bluegrass artists brought awareness of the Stanley Brothers to new generations of fans through cover renditions. The Grateful Dead, especially co-founder Jerry Garcia, cited the Stanleys as an inspirational source, adding fuel to the jam-band movement that in recent years has brought giant crowds to bluegrass.

Del McCoury, also a Stanleys believer, draws mighty crowds to his festival, DelFest, where mashups of straight bluegrass and Dead-driven improvisational bands are common. Bluesy Larry Sparks, a onetime member of the Stanleys’ Clinch Mountain Boys band, cooks up his own mix of gospel, country and ‘grass, also citing the brothers’ influence on any music he produces.

Fellow Country Music Hall of Fame members Emmylou Harris, Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley also served as key testifiers to the greatness of Ralph and Carter Stanley.

Disciples since their youth, Skaggs and Whitley were overheard by Ralph Stanley in 1970 singing note-for-note recreations of the duets of Ralph and Carter. Ralph was an hour late to his own gig, due to a flat tire; when he arrived, he initially thought the venue was playing a Stanley Brothers recording. Still in their teens, they would go on to tour, record and release music with Ralph Stanley as members of the Clinch Mountain Boys.

After a starry career as a bluegrass sideman, Skaggs had early hits as a solo country artist that included versions of the brothers’ “I’ll Take the Blame” and “Could You Love Me One More Time.” His 1997 roots-return CD, Bluegrass Rules, a Grammy winner, included a large helping of Stanleys numbers, including “Think of What You’ve Done” and “Midnight Train.” In concert appearances years before the Stanley Brothers’ Hall of Fame induction, Skaggs paid tribute to the act and talked about how richly they deserved the honor.

Emmylou Harris, Skaggs’s onetime employer in her Hot Band, also helped advance the Stanleys’ legend through her recording of their songs. Her dedication to country and bluegrass produced cuts of “The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn” and “Who Will Sing for Me.” Harris even took part in a gospel album and act called “Angel Band” along with Vince Gill, Emory Gordy Jr., and Carl Jackson. And Harris and Skaggs joined voices on the Stanleys’ “Could You Love Me (One More Time),” on Skaggs’s first solo album in 1979.

Why the Stanleys?

There’s more to the long reach of the Stanley Brothers even than the captivating sounds of the brothers’ voices, the hard-hitting stories of their songs, and the driving rhythm of their instrumentals. Fans sum it up as authenticity.

When country music veered into steel-driven honky-tonk and later the smoothness of the Nashville sound, the Stanley Brothers stuck mostly to the music they’d come up with in their early days. Oh, there was the steel guitar of “If That’s the Way You Feel,” the Elvis-esque sounds of “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” and the R&B side-trip of “Finger Poppin’ Time,” but Ralph and Carter stayed almost entirely acoustic, always leaning on their hardcore mountain sound, true to their rural roots.

This quality of authenticity touched countless musicians and fans on first hearing. Patty Loveless shared an IBMA Award with Ralph Stanley for their recording of “Pretty Polly” on the all-star Clinch Mountain Country album and even helped inducted him into the Grand Ole Opry at the Ryman Auditorium in January 2000. Released later that year, the inclusion of “I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow” (newly recorded by the Foggy Bottom Boys) and the a cappella rendition of “O Death” by Ralph Stanley were highlights on the multi-million-selling soundtrack to O Brother, Where Art Thou?, bringing new attention to their style of roots music.

For a California punk musician named Gillian Welch, one Stanley Brothers cassette was all it took for her to find “her music.” In 2018, Americana star Welch and partner David Rawlings were among the performers at an evening tribute to Ralph and the Stanley Brothers at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, with country star Dierks Bentley as host. The event was a celebration of a Ralph Stanley exhibition opening at the museum.

That night, Bentley brought on the Traveling McCourys, the act starring Del’s boys and other musicians, as well as the Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach. Others on the show included Ralph Stanley’s son, known as Ralph II, bluegrass duo the Gibson Brothers, and the hot-picking Justin Moses and Sierra Hull.

The evening of music from a diverse group of performers shone with songs such as “I’ll Just Go Away,” “Could You Love Me One More Time,” “How Mountain Girls Can Love,” and the first Stanleys hit, “Little Glass of Wine.” It reflected a theme universal to myriads of musicians and fans, that the Stanley Brothers’ music hits so hard and so deep that it has served as a foundation for followers going back generations.

“Some of the first songs I ever saw played on a guitar were Stanley Brothers songs,” Auerbach said, according to Rolling Stone.

Closer to the present and into the future, Compass Records this year announced an all-star tribute album marking the 80th anniversary of the Stanley Brothers’ debut as a performing act in 1946. Last year, the label gave a hint of the disc’s content with a single release of “Ralph’s Banjo Special” featuring Kristin Scott Benson, Gena Britt, and Alison Brown.

Through the years, fans have treasured the forthright values of the Stanley Brothers and admired the ways they combined the traditional music they loved with creative new ways of addressing those sounds. Sad to say, the Stanley Brothers endured some hard times just to play the music they had fashioned, instead of changing their sound to follow the whims of music-business fashion. Carter once addressed their steadfast point of view with a note in a publication written to be mailed to their fans.

“For the past few years, we have tried to bring to you country people the kind of entertainment you enjoy,” Carter wrote. “In doing this we have been criticized by some for not being more modern. Since we were raised with this old-time music as part of our background, we have never had and still do not feel any desire to change our way of playing.”

Sticking to their guns remained the Stanley Brothers’ trademark through their two decades of touring, performing, and recording together. Some 60 years after Carter’s death ended those years, the Stanley Brothers’ legacy has paid off for them with membership in the Country Music Hall of Fame among country music’s most highly esteemed acts.

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

The Man That Made All of Us Play the Banjo

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: For Earl Scruggs’s birthday, Thomas Goldsmith revisits a star-studded bluegrass festival tribute to the banjo legend from 1971 in Camp Springs, North Carolina. The 102nd anniversary of Scruggs’s 1924 birth in Flint Hill, North Carolina, is January 6, 2026.)

Like speakers at a testimonial dinner, each musician strode to the microphone in turn.

But instead of heaping on words of praise, a stage full of well-known pickers and up-and-comers used banjos to pay a lively tribute to Earl Scruggs.

The scene was the 1971 Labor Day weekend bluegrass festival in Camp Springs, North Carolina, at a performance where some of the best banjo players around joined Scruggs on stage. Led by the five-string king himself, banjoists including Sonny Osborne, J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, and Alan Munde jointly played Scruggs’s signature tune “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” some 22 years after its first recording.

The performance is a highlight of the 1972 documentary Bluegrass Country Soul, which enjoyed a 50-year deluxe re-release five years ago. Watch the clip here.

 

Sonny Osborne (left) gets emotional onstage after introducing Earl Scruggs (right). Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Promoter Carlton Haney invited more than a dozen banjo players on the festival schedule to play along with Scruggs, who was then 47. (A second group performance, of “Dear Old Dixie,” doesn’t appear in the film. And a couple of the “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performers didn’t make it to the screen.)

Millions of viewers have seen the clip as part of the movie or on YouTube, with Osborne bringing Scruggs on with an introduction that sounds starstruck.

“(It’d) be only right to call out probably the man that has made all of us guys up here play the banjo, or either has been a great influence, as he has in my complete life,” Osborne said. “In my whole banjo-playing ability … I could probably credit to this one man.

“Let’s all give a tremendous welcome to probably the best in the world, Earl Scruggs!”

Scruggs seemed overwhelmed by the audience’s ovation. The cheering feels as though it lasts forever, but took only a minute and a few seconds.

“That really fills my heart with joy,” Scruggs said after Osborne introduced him. “I did want to say one thing: Thank you, and guys like this is what keeps me going, my boys who works with me and you people who keep preaching music.

“I just don’t know what to say, except I’m picking with some guys that plays a tremendous amount of banjo. Don’t underestimate anybody up here. Man, they’re great.”

Earl at a Crossroads

In 1971, Scruggs had only broken up with his longtime duet partner Lester Flatt less than two years earlier. Not even a month before Camp Springs he had recorded along with other greats for Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s country-roots-popularizing Will the Circle Be Unbroken set. He was venturing into a country-rock sound with his band the Earl Scruggs Revue, along with his sons Randy, Gary, and Steve.

However, Scruggs’s work as a musical innovator remained – and remains – fundamental to the way a large share of bluegrass banjo players address the instrument. That’s true despite the introduction of a single-note style most associated with Don Reno and a chromatic or melodic approach heard in the playing of Bill Keith and Bobby Thompson.

Most of the pickers in the 1971 “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performance used the three-finger picking style Scruggs introduced in a band with Bill Monroe and Flatt on the Grand Ole Opry in 1945. The exception among the Camp Springs pickers, Rick Riman of the New Deal String Band, caused something of a stir with his chromatic rendition of the tune, not to mention his long hair, full beard, and striped shirt and pants.

How did Riman, who had also studied Scruggs style closely, decide to use the flowing melodic style for “Foggy Mountain Breakdown”?

“I just thought, “OK, let’s see if I can make this work,’” Riman, 83, said on the phone from Denver, Colorado, speaking to BGS in January 2026. “Because I had not prepared anything, and I didn’t even know what was on the program. They just said they want all the banjo players up there to pay tribute to Earl. And I said, ‘OK, I’ll get up there and do it.’”

And what has the reaction been?

“Mostly negative,” he said, with a touch of humor.

“One person said they were really glad to see somebody step out of the standardized [method], and that felt very, very good. Somebody else said, ‘You won’t believe how many people thought that you shouldn’t have been on stage at all.’

“And I get that a lot. That’s mostly the reaction I get, that I shouldn’t have been on stage. I shouldn’t have even been in the parking lot, like the least talented person on the stage and probably the least talented person in the whole park.”

The chromatic style remains one effective tool in the hands of players such as Béla Fleck and Noam Pikelny, but Riman, 28 that day in 1971, has gotten a load of grief over his choice to add some variety to the line of Scruggs-style players. “I would say, over the years, it’s pretty much been like 50-plus years of derision,” he said.

Riman has had one regret. “I should have practiced more,” he said. “I should have been better, but I had no idea.”

Although at Camp Springs he performed in the more recently created melodic and chromatic styles, like everyone on the stage that day in North Carolina, Riman was schooled in the style of the man honored beside them.

“I was really fascinated by Earl and anybody else who played his style pretty well,” he said.

 

Earl Scruggs reacts to his introduction and audience ovation and applause onstage in 1971 in Camp Springs, NC. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

“Everybody Headed for the Stage”

We were fortunate to reach three of the banjo warriors who performed that day. Sadly, most of the players heard then have since died. Eddie Hoyle, then 14, the youngest of the Camp Springs lineup, is among the survivors and is still actively performing. He talked to BGS on the phone in December from his home in Georgia.

“I was up there playing with Curtis Blackwell and the Dixie Bluegrass Boys and I just remember them telling me that Carlton wanted all the banjo players to come down on the stage and play a tune with Earl,” said Hoyle, now 68. “So I got my banjo out, and everybody headed for the stage.

“I didn’t know if I’d get to take a break or not, but somebody got me in the line that was walking up to the mic. So it was pretty cool. And I remember I was not nervous; OK, probably didn’t know enough to be nervous.”

Most of the players that day stuck fairly close to Scruggs’s own licks on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” but Hoyle and others ventured a bit from the classic performance.

“I always tried to learn the right way, as Dad told us to do, but then I would try to put my own twist on it,” Hoyle said.

Nearly half the banjo players that day have been inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. They include Scruggs himself, of course, as well as J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, Alan Munde, Sonny Osborne, and Don Stover. Another banjo picker, Saburo Watanabe Inoue, founder of the pioneering Japanese band Bluegrass 45, won the IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement award along with his brother Toshio, in 1995.

 

Sab Watanabe (who passed away in 2019) of the legendary Japanese band, Bluegrass 45, takes his turn at the mic. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Alan Munde Remembers it Well

Munde, 79, still a player and teacher, also spoke to BGS about the experience from his home in Springfield, Missouri. He recalled that he was playing with Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys at the festival and took part in the group performance because Martin wanted him to.

“Thinking back on it and also remembering at the time, I didn’t really want to be a part of it, just because, then and now, I thought I would be so unworthy,” Munde said. “But I think Jimmy wanted me to do it, and you notice he’s there [in the film.] He thought I needed to be there, so I did it.”

Munde remembers the day as a landmark for him, the only time he heard Scruggs play live. Given all the great banjoists and backing musicians including Martin and Charlie Waller, it was an enchanting moment from the sound of Scruggs’s first lick.

“The thing that I remember so much about it is … we’re all standing there and Earl’s talking, and then he’s going to start to play,” he said. “And he, I always call this his ‘chang,’ where he just plays the first, third, and fifth string together and starts into the tune.

“As soon as he did that, I thought, ‘Oh my God, there’s that sound.’ It just was immediately apparent that he was the one.”

 

Alan Munde (right) is flanked by Earl Scruggs during the all-banjos jam of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Like the first players to tune into Scruggs’s playing in 1945 and like players from Béla Fleck on, Munde appreciates Scruggs’s sound in a way that seems almost mystical. Scruggs produced something that no other banjo player could.

Jimmy Martin, Munde’s boss at the time, used to tell a story involving the great banjo man Vic Jordan to illustrate the way Scruggs’s beautifully nuanced playing and full tone stood above the crowd of his followers.

“Jimmy was kind of down on Vic Jordan a little bit,” Munde said. “And he would tell this story to show that Vic didn’t know the right way. He said when Vic met Earl, he asked him what kind of microphone he used.

“And Earl said, ‘Sometimes I use those little bitty ones, and sometimes I use those real big ones.’

“And Jimmy’s point was that, in his mind, Vic was asking because he thought it was the microphone. But it didn’t matter. It all sounded like Earl every time.”

And hearing Scruggs’s sound that day at Camp Springs, not through a mic, not on a record, but right there next to him on stage, made Munde think the whole exercise was somehow wrong.

“When he did that pinch, I thought, ‘Oh, God, I don’t want to be a part of this.’ What we should have done is just stood back and listened to him, and then said, ‘Do it again.’”

Despite his misgivings at the time, Munde has wound up glad that he took part in the Earl-fest that day.

“Looking back on it, it’s been nothing but good for me, that I got to be there,” he said. “Here it is, 50 years later, people still bring it up. It’s helped get me a little legacy recognition, that I was there, so that’s been real good.”

A Star-Studded Lineup

The career of Sonny Osborne has been well documented, but Bluegrass Country Soul makes clear his admiration and friendship with Scruggs. During the tumult of applause following his introduction, Scruggs asked if he could say something, and Osborne appears to grin and say, “Not yet.” And Osborne cracks up when Scruggs uses his up-the-neck solo from “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the last time around for the tune.

Bill Emerson, whose long career included membership in the Country Gentlemen and much more, was interviewed at the time of the re-release of Bluegrass Country Soul. He talked about the pantheon of great banjo players.

“Don Reno, he had his style on the banjo; Earl Scruggs, he had his style on the banjo; Ralph Stanley, he had a style on the banjo,” Emerson said in the set’s booklet. “And on the radio, I could listen to any of them, just the first few notes of an intro, and tell you who was playing. Just by the style that they were playing, the tone that they had, and the timbre. Most people, when they started out playing the banjo back then, they got a bunch of Earl Scruggs’s records and sat down and tried to learn to play like Earl. But it’s mighty hard to sound like Earl, I can tell you. I was never able to do that, so I just tried to sound like Bill Emerson.”

 

Bill Emerson takes his turn playing a solo on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Also on the show was multi-instrumentalist Jimmy Arnold (1952-1992), whose career was one of a kind, including excursions into Southern rock and solo albums on guitar and banjo as well as stints with Cliff Waldron, Charlie Moore, and the New Tradition, according to a 1983 Bluegrass Unlimited story. The article, by Chris Wathen, quoted Arnold on Scruggs: “When you learn all of what you think is hard stuff and then go back and try to play one of his tunes, you find out what the hard stuff really is. It’s his stuff. To play with that much power and volume, you’ve really got to be on top of things.”

Another of the clip’s well-known pickers, Don Stover (1928-1996), had been an early convert to Scruggs style, learning it not long after Scruggs’s first performances with Monroe, according to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame.

Stover was known for his work with brothers Bea and Everett Lilly during many years of performances in Boston. He played and recorded as a member of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys in 1957, even contributing harmony vocals to “In Despair.”

Earl’s son Randy, who appears playing an archtop banjo just before the end of the clip, went on to a distinguished career as a musician, songwriter, and producer.

Doing Their Times

The 55th anniversary of this notable moment in bluegrass will arrive in September. Looking back, the picking ranges from respectable to spectacular, but doesn’t maintain the dead-even tempo that’s supposed to prevail in bluegrass music. Fans remember the story that Earl and brother Horace Scruggs, as boys, used to start playing a tune, then separate to walk around their Flint Hill house in opposite directions. The idea was to check if they were still in time with each other after being out of earshot.

The dozen players on the Camp Springs group number would not have passed this test, based on a stopwatch run-through. While Scruggs’s December 1949 original recording had consistent solos of right at 11 seconds, he started the round robin at about 12.69 seconds and tempos wavered from there.

By the start of Riman’s melodic solo, near the end, the time was more than half a second slower. Randy and Earl Scruggs wrapped things up at roughly the same tempo.

But that’s just a quibble.

 

A contemporary of Earl Scruggs, Don Stover also performed a rendition of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the jam. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Remembering Earl

Bluegrass Country Soul director Albert Ihde did bluegrass lovers a real service by capturing these moments and others at the Camp Springs festival. And promoter Haney had another brainstorm resembling the story, pronounced “stoah-ry,” that he recreated of Bill Monroe and former band members six years earlier at Fincastle, Virginia.

Viewers will keep calling up the video for its closeups of Earl, smiling and even bobbing up and down for his breaks, and for the scenes of several of his outstanding followers, appreciating their moments on stage as they rolled their way through “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

Many videos of Flatt & Scruggs can be found on the web that illustrate Earl Scruggs’s unmatched musicianship. In the Bluegrass Country Soul segment viewers can also see a strong memorial to Earl Eugene Scruggs the person, his warmth, humor, and unselfishness as well as his brilliance as a musician.

Thomas Goldsmith is an award-winning journalist based in Tennessee and North Carolina. In addition to producing many hundreds of articles for newspapers and magazines, he edited The Bluegrass Reader and authored Earl Scruggs and Foggy Mountain Breakdown: The Making of an American Classic, both books for the University of Illinois Press.

Learn more about Bluegrass Country Soul and purchase a Golden Anniversary Legacy Edition box set of the film here. Read more about the box set and the making of the film here.

All photos courtesy of Albert Ihde, Ellen Pasternack, and Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc. Lead image: Earl Scruggs (left) and son, Randy Scruggs (right), perform “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” flanked by bluegrass banjo stars of 1971.

The Seldom Scene: a New Release, a New Member, and a Farewell to a Revered Singer

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

After 53 years and 23 albums, the release of the newest Seldom Scene recording is still something to celebrate. Remains to Be Scene is their first recording since the death of founding banjo player Ben Eldridge in 2024 and the last before Dudley Connell announced his retirement. In addition to Connell, the album features Fred Travers on Dobro, bassist Ronnie Simpkins, mandolinist Lou Reid, and Ron Stewart on fiddle and banjo.

Since its earliest days, the Seldom Scene has been known for busting open once-limiting bluegrass boundaries. The latest album continues this tradition, with songs pulled from sources like The Kinks, Woody Guthrie, and Jim Croce. Another tradition is incorporating new talent.

In 1995, three of five band members left to form another group. Looking to replace them, founding member John Duffey invited Simpkins, Connell, and Travers to a picking session. To those who didn’t know him, Duffey, with his huge stage personality, was intimidating.

Remembering that day, Simpkins said, “I did not want to be late, but I did not want to be early. So, I got there way ahead of time, and I kept an eye on John’s house to see who else got there.

“And I noticed this other car down the street. That person was just sitting there and would ease the car up closer to John’s as the time drew near. And I came to find out it was Dudley. So, we timed it until Ben got there, and we all went in together.”

Simpkins takes Connell’s retirement as a continuation of the band’s legacy: “The band has always transitioned.” Today he welcomes Clay Hess, a band leader and a former lead guitar player with Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder, who stepped in quickly when Connell, injured in a fall, was unable to play the last few shows of 2024.

As always, the Seldom Scene is committed to the same scalp-tingling vocals, remarkable song selection, and quirky, sometimes outrageous, stage shows that fill festival seats after five decades. Simpkins said, “I just feel blessed to be in this group … and to try to keep the same spirit the original guys had when they started out back in 1971.”

On the release of his last recording as a Seldom Scene member, Dudley Connell spoke to BGS about Remains to Be Scene, his musical career – starting in the 1970s – and his memories of some of the greatest characters in bluegrass.

The Seldom Scene has a tradition of pulling songs from everywhere and the latest recording is the same way. How do you decide on songs?

Dudley Connell: If you look back at the Scene’s recording career, all the way back to the original guys, it was unique. John Duffey had very eclectic taste. He brought “Rider” into the band from the Grateful Dead. He brought “Sweet Baby James” in from James Taylor. And continuing that tradition, I brought in “Boots of Spanish Leather” by Bob Dylan and “Nadine” from Chuck Berry.

It’s interesting having a band of five people, all with slightly different tastes, but with commonality at the same time. So, that’s the way we’ve continued the work all the way through our 30 years together. Everybody would show up with a basketful of songs. Sometimes, Lou might bring a song in that he really liked and say to me, “I could hear you singing this more than me.” Likewise, I could say to Fred, “I really like this song, but I don’t think I could sing it as well as you could sing it.” And it worked that way really well.

How does a band stay together so long?

We, of course, spent a lot of time together, but we also spent a lot of time doing our own thing. Now, with [a band leader] like Bill Monroe or Ralph Stanley, they take the fee and then they give you whatever they want to pay you per show. But with the Scene, John [Duffey’s] feeling was that if you’re out there on the road and you’re doing the work, you deserve equal cut. So, everything we made was split equally. You could fly, you could drive, you could stay at the Waldorf Astoria, or you could stay at the Super Eight. It was your money to spend and to travel as you wanted.

I think it created a certain sense of camaraderie that continues to this day. Everybody’s getting paid the same, so everybody’s expected to do equal work, and it gives you a sense of belonging. There’s no boss, everybody has an equal say, and that was true from the very first rehearsal.

Every group you’ve been with has been known for exceptional harmonies. Can you talk about harmony a bit?

I think a musician’s greatest asset and greatest tool is his or her ears. If you’re singing a trio, you want the blend to be there. You don’t even have to actually know who’s singing what part. There’s a certain buzz you get when the harmony is just right, and you hit a chord just right, and everybody’s phrasing together, and their mouths are in the same sort of position. When that happens, this is just like magic.

Let’s go back to the Johnson Mountain Boy days, when I first met Richard Underwood. Richard learned to sing with me. When we sang together and I switched from lead to tenor on a chorus, you could hardly hear the switch. It came natural to him, because I’m the only person he ever sang with. You know, he later went on to become a great singer on his own right, but he was the first singer that I really worked with a lot on blending and making a pleasing sound.

Now, my experience with David McLaughlin was more organic, as it was with Don Rigsby. Don and David and I all grew up as disciples of the Stanley Brothers. They had such a tight blend.

Now a more challenging partner for me was Hazel Dickens. Hazel and I toured quite a bit together in the ’70s and ’80s. But Hazel had a completely different sort of approach. Hazel was full bore, wide open all the time, and sometimes she could get just a little bit pitchy. I looked at it as my job to try to keep her close to the melody. It was great for me, because it taught me how to blend and also how to pull her to the proper pitch when necessary.

When I came to work with The Scene, it was completely different. They were all about the harmony.

What are your memories of The Scene before you joined them?

The Scene were a huge influence on everybody in D.C. The Scene was almost like a gateway drug to bluegrass music. They were largely playing for urban audiences in the early days, and a lot of young people really responded to it. In fact, The Seldom Scene record Live at the Cellar Door almost has cult-like status. When I was a teenager, we’d go to each other’s houses to listen to music. Right next to Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan would be The Seldom Scene Live at the Cellar Door.

I think what made that record so absolutely deserving of cult status is that it’s really freewheeling, it’s really the band live. It’s not just the music and the wonderful singing, the wonderful song selection. It’s also the playfulness with the audience.

As far as I was concerned, John Duffey was The Scene. It wasn’t just that he was a great singer and instrumentalist, but also he had this gift – presenting the music to all kinds of different audiences. You couldn’t not respond to John Duffey or his emcee work – or his pants, for that matter. An interesting thing about John that a lot of people don’t realize is that he was actually kind of shy, kind of insecure. This bigger-than-life character that emerged on stage – I’m not saying that it was phony. It really was John. But when he walked on stage, it was like a switch kicked on, and he became a great entertainer and a great communicator.

I think people who weren’t familiar with bluegrass, it put them at ease a little bit. It drew a lot of people in who maybe wouldn’t have paid attention to a banjo or a Dobro. All entertainers feed off audiences. If you’ve got a really lively, energetic audience, you pour a lot of that back. If the audience feels more relaxed, you slow down a little bit with your delivery and your introductions. And John was an absolute master of that. I learned a lot about presenting a show from my year with John.

And how did you come to play with The Scene?

The Johnson Mountain Boys were on their way out. I’d done a little bit of work with Longview by this time. Then I got this notice in the mail that T. Michael Coleman, Mike Auldridge, and Moondi Kline were leaving the Scene and forming a band called Chesapeake. And it was sort of assumed that the Scene were going to dissolve. I knew John well enough and I called him on the phone and said, “John, I’m really sorry to hear about this. It sounds like the end of an era.”

And he said in the off-the-cuff, John Duffey style of talk, “Well, we’re really not dissolving the band. We’re just looking for a lead singer, guitar player, tenor singer, bass player, baritone singer, Dobro player.” You know, basically replacing three-fifths of the band. I don’t know where it came from, because I really had not called John looking for a job, but after he told me what he was looking for, I said, “Well, John, let’s get together and sing sometime.” Complete silence.

After the initial silence, he said, “Well, do you know of any of our stuff?”

So, I went over to John’s, and Ronnie was there, and Fred. John had given me about half a dozen songs to learn and when I look back at it now, he was testing me. He wanted to see if I could sing harmony parts over and under him. By that time, I’d had the experience with Hazel and had sung with a lot of different people. I was ready.

So, we started these Wednesday rehearsals and we’d done this for about two or three months in preparation for our debut – New Year’s Eve at The Birchmere, 1995. By the time it actually came to play our first show. I was really, really into it. And it was one of the toughest shows I think I ever played, because all the original guys were there – John Starling, Mike Auldridge, Tom Gray. Lou Reid was there, too. And I’m thinking, “I don’t know, man. I don’t know if I belong in this – with these people that I’ve listened to for years.”

One of the things I remember was our opening song, “Our Last Goodbye,” which is this old Stanley Brothers song. I had worn these baggy chino kind of pants and I was so grateful that I didn’t wear tight pants because my legs were literally shaking, and I didn’t want anybody to see that.

So, it was a very exciting night, and after that we had a year with John.

You were quite young when you formed the Johnson Mountain Boys. Can you tell us about those years?

I came along at a very fortunate time in the Washington, D.C. area in the ’70s, and actually on through the ’80s as well. You could see bluegrass every night of the week between Washington and Baltimore.

Now, I’m not going to tell you that the places were swank and nice. They were kind of seedy bars. But when I look back on it now I think that was actually a very beneficial thing for us. We were young, we were very enthusiastic about the music, and we could go into these bars and play four or five sets ’til, you know, one or two in the morning … and then go play another one the next night. So, by the time that the ’80s rolled around and we started actually playing festivals for larger crowds, we were pretty well rehearsed.

I found that the musicians that we met, like Del McCoury and Bill Harrell and a lot of the acts around Washington, embraced us because we were doing something different – actually doing something [traditional bluegrass] that had been done before, but we were kids doing it.

Ben Eldridge– the first time I ever met him, we were playing this indoor bluegrass event. Ben came over and said, “I wish I was doing what you guys are doing.” I know that he was kidding me, but the point being that he really respected the traditional stuff. He said it because he was very sweet man and very kind man. But I think there was some truth in that, too.

How much time was there between you playing in the two bands?

We actually intertwined for just a little bit. When we got off the road full-time in 1988, we were kind of burned out. I went back to college. David [McLaughlin] started selling real estate. Eddie [Stubbs] went to work with his father and we just sort of drifted apart, personally and musically.

Now, we did get together and play some in the ’90s and we produced a record that was nominated for a GRAMMY, Blue Diamond. But that was not like the previous Johnson Mountain Boy records. So, The Seldom Scene coming along at that time in my life, when I was curious about experimenting with different kinds of music, was perfect.

They played a lot locally and I was working full-time for the Smithsonian and didn’t want to travel very much. And the Scene, to this day, has followed that model. We don’t get on the tour bus and go out for weeks at a time. It reminds me of the reason John Duffey left the Country Gentleman. He said he got tired of saving up to go on tour. I understand what he meant. They were just going out trying to get their name out there. The Johnson Mountain Boys did the same thing. I remember once we drove to Florida to play for 900 bucks for three days.

That’s another thing that John did, he just set the price to where it made it worth his while to go. Here’s a kind of famous John Duffey story: A promoter in California called John and said, “I really, really like what you’re doing, and I’d like to get you out here to California.” John said, “Great! Make me an offer.” The promoter said, “Will 500 bucks do it?”

John thought for a minute and said, “Which one of us do you want?”

I’d like to talk a bit about your career as an archivist. Did you go to school to learn that?

Actually, I didn’t. After the Johnson Mountain Boys got off the road, I went back to college. One of my classes was Career Development. There were a lot of people around my age who were looking for a change in their work and their livelihoods.

One of my assignments was to interview someone that I thought had a really interesting job. So, I chose to interview the curator and the director of Smithsonian Folkways records. His name was Tony Seeger, and yes, he is a part of the Mike and Pete Seeger world. The Smithsonian had just acquired Folkways Records. I went into the interview asking Tony how he got his job, what his educational background was, how he ended up at Smithsonian Folkways, what his life was like. About halfway through the interview, he started asking me about my background and what I’ve been doing.

Before I left his office, he basically hired me to come in and try to figure out how to how to keep Folkways alive.

And then you did archive work for another organization?

It’s called the National Council for the Traditional Arts. Since 1933 they have put on folk festivals with all kinds of ethnic and roots music. They started recording all the festivals in 1972. When I got there, they were just quite a thing of beauty – 5,000 hours of one-of-a-kind recordings in a non-climate-controlled room. So, I went to work there, preserving the recordings. And oddly enough, the very first that I put up to digitize was Alison Krauss. I thought, “I think I found the right place.” I worked there for 19 years.

Why retire now, and what’s next?

My wife, Sally, had retired from 40 years at the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum. I had retired from the National Council for Traditional Arts. This would have been the end of 2023, so I was still traveling on the weekends.

During the pandemic, we got a dog named Woody. It’s almost like having a child in the house. He was adopted and he was afraid of everything, so we spent a lot of time with him. Before that, Sally used to travel with me everywhere and it got to be that she had to stay home and take care of the dog when I was out on the road. I wanted to have time to travel, to Europe and to different places that I’d not really been able to explore. I think it’s a misconception some people have about a traveling musician: “Wow, you got to go to all these great, cool places. You must have seen a lot.”

Well, I saw a lot of hotel rooms. I saw a lot of backstages, but I didn’t see some of the things these towns are known for. What Sally and I want to do now is, while we’re in reasonably good health and while we can still get around well on our feet, we want to do some traveling and not be restricted by a schedule.

Favorite memories?

Marrying Sally, definitely a favorite memory. In the ’80s, an organization called the United States Information Agency USA had a subgroup called Arts America. They created cultural exchanges with third world countries. I got to travel to Southern Africa and later Southeast Asia. You can’t buy that kind of education. It’s quite an eye opening event. I remember coming back from those trips and having a different way of looking at my lifestyle and where I live and how fortunate we are.

Another highlight was getting to meet my heroes and finding out that they were really nice people who didn’t want anything more than to see me and our bands, whether it be the Seldom Scene or the Johnson Mountain Boys, succeed. I never felt any jealousy or any animosity, you know, toward us, these young upstarts. In the ’70s and ’80s, everybody knew everybody, and everybody wanted everybody else to succeed.

But probably the biggest thing was having a year with John Duffey and many years with Ben Eldridge; hearing their stories, the hardships, and the fun stuff and the silliness that happens on the road. All those things are highlights for me.

Closing thoughts?

The music of the Scene is completely unique to anything else in the bluegrass world. I think the Scene could follow just about anybody. We followed Alison Krauss and we followed Ricky Skaggs, and I never really felt uptight about our performance following these major acts, because nobody else does what the Scene does. That’s true with Clay Hess taking my place, too. I’ve heard some of their performances on Facebook – sounds like the Seldom Scene to me.

I feel like I’ve lived a very full life. It’s like when Tony Trischka was asked, “Tony, have you been playing banjo all your life?” He answered, “Not yet.”

That’s the way I feel about music – I’m not done yet.

Photo Credit: Jeromie Stephens

Basic Folk: Jerry Douglas

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Jerry Douglas is widely regarded as the best Dobro player in the world. Alison Krauss, Emmylou Harris, and James Taylor are counted among his many collaborators and his four-decade career has earned him 16 GRAMMY Awards and numerous other accolades. In our Basic Folk conversation, he shares stories about his upbringing in Warren, Ohio, where his father’s steel mill job and love for music instilled in him a strong work ethic and a passion for playing. He also talks about getting scouted as a teenager by The Country Gentlemen, one of the greatest bluegrass bands ever, who eventually took young Jerry on tour.

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In addition, we discuss Douglas’ latest album, The Set, which showcases his mastery of the resophonic guitar and features a unique blend of bluegrass, country, and Americana sounds. He also opens up about his experiences working with Molly Tuttle, John Hiatt, and other notable musicians, highlighting the importance of collaboration and creative freedom. Our chat offers a glimpse into Jerry Douglas’ life, influences, and artistic approach through his humility, humor, and dedication to his craft.

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

Appalachian Bluegrasser Missy Raines Explains The West Virginia Thing

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Acclaimed bluegrass musician Missy Raines is also a very cool and funny lady, originally from West Virginia – not far from the Maryland border and the city of Cumberland. First of all, I had questions for her about why people from West Virginia are so into their state. She gets into that and also explores the influence of the vast and varied bluegrass music scene she found there, as well as the scene in nearby Washington, D.C..

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Raines has made a significant impact on the genre, earning 14 International Bluegrass Music Association awards, including 10 for Bass Player of the Year. Her latest album, Highlander, showcases Raines’ mastery of the bass alongside an ensemble of top-tier musicians from Nashville – her home base for the last 34 years – and plenty of special guests, too, blending traditional bluegrass with innovative twists.

Throughout our conversation, Raines reflects on her deep connection to Appalachian culture and the Appalachian Mountains, which have profoundly influenced her music. We explore her experiences performing live at music festivals and the evolution of bluegrass music as a genre and community. We recount the passion her family felt for music, touching on the story of her mom and aunt crying their eyes out over John Duffey leaving their favorite bluegrass band, The Country Gentlemen.

Raines also talks about taking care of her late brother Rick, who died of HIV-AIDS in 1994 at the age of 39. Through that experience, she was empowered to help others whose loved ones were also dying and suffering from HIV and AIDS. With her unique blend of banjo and fiddle music, and her activism in a normally conservative genre, Raines continues to push the boundaries of the genre while staying true to its roots, making her a trailblazer in the world of Americana and folk music. Our conversation was in depth, fun and enlightening – I had high hopes for this one and I was not disappointed!

Photo Credit: Stacie Huckeba

Bluegrass & Roots Songs to Strike To

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Hot. Strike. Summer!!

It was just announced that hundreds of thousands of Teamsters driving for shipping and logistics company UPS will avert a strike after their negotiations came through, but even so, dozens of strike authorization votes are happening all across the U.S. as workers the world over watch WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, Amazon and Starbucks unionization drives, and smaller pickets like that at dinner theater Medieval Times. Union membership and public opinions toward unions are at highs not seen since the ’60s, and millennial and Gen-Z workers are joining unions, striking, and picketing at astronomical rates.

It’s important to remember that, although bluegrass in its modern iteration can often feel staunchly conservative, militantly patriotic, and delusionally nostalgic for “old-fashioned values,” it’s a genre that was born from the creativity of working class and impoverished Southerners, Appalachians, and immigrants – and it has always had a pro-worker, leftward bent. Singers, pickers, songwriters, and performers like Hazel Dickens, Ola Belle Reed, the Country Gentlemen, the Johnson Mountain Boys, Mac Wiseman, Earl Scruggs, and so many more were ardent supporters of the working class and hostile towards corporations, mines, and management. There are truly countless, never ending pro-worker, pro-labor songs to choose from in the bluegrass, old-time, and roots-music canon.

Bluegrass and old-time music, though entangled in a dense constellation of roots music and occupying space adjacent to folk music and the folk revival, were anti-corporate greed since before they had names, before Pete Seeger, before the folk revival itself. That legacy is important to place at the very center of bluegrass, a genre of music that was born out of industrialization (see also: Industrial Strength Bluegrass) as mountain folk, Appalachians, and Southerners migrated out of their rural homeplaces to urban industrial centers. Bluegrass was born from radio stations, railroads, from company towns and workers’ barracks. Whether rubber or auto plants in Ohio and Michigan, factories in Chicago, cotton mills and tobacco warehouses in North Carolina, or anywhere else in the region, as poor folks bled out of their ancestral homes to find work and upward mobility, they brought their music and their community mindsets. As bell hooks puts it in Belonging: A Culture of Place, the mountains and rural spaces are where mutual aid and anarchy are concrete, everyday practices, not just philosophies or concepts.

With those people and their music came a penchant for workers’ and labor rights, suspicion of management and company stores and towns, and a vehement, righteous anger at the injustices suffered by working class Southerners no matter where they migrated. It’s easy to find pro-Union songs, songs in support of workers’ health and agency, lyrics that espouse conservation and environmentalism in old-time, bluegrass, and string-band traditions. So easy, in fact, we quickly amassed a 4+ hour playlist featuring some of our favorite songs (bluegrass and beyond) for marching the picket line, raising a fist, and redistributing the power – and wealth – back to the world’s 99%.

Scroll to find the full playlist of Bluegrass & Roots Songs to Strike To. Below, enjoy a few selections from the list.

“In Tall Buildings” – John Hartford

John Hartford describes the doldrums of daily work as almost no one else can. (John Prine gets close with, “How the hell can a person/ Go to work in the mornin’/ And come home in the evenin’/ And have nothing to say?”) At the end of our 30-some years working, what will we have to show for ourselves besides a suit, haircut, and no more life left to give to our “retirement?” Plus, as any career musician can tell you, planning a life around retirement isn’t exactly a good option to begin with.

“Ain’t Gonna Work Tomorrow” – Wilma Lee Cooper

Ain’t gonna work tomorrow, cause it’s STRIKING day! Wilma Lee Cooper will, at long last, join the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame this September. A bluegrass forebear who saw broad commercial success before the genre had a name or an understood identity, she regularly landed tracks with decidedly bluegrass aesthetics on Billboard‘s early country charts.

“Lazy John” – Bruce Molsky

Under capitalism, laziness is a radical act! Be like Lazy John! If you’re working all week in the noon-day sun just for 16 cents, yes, it’s strike time.

“Cotton Mill Man” – Jim & Jesse

As we remember the life and legacy of Jesse McReynolds, who recently passed, it’s striking that although he and his brother Jim performed largely cover songs and tracks written by others, they were still able to express with great subtlety their own points of view through the material they chose. Like “Cotton Mill Man” and Prine’s “Paradise,” which was a hit for the duo, their catalog of recorded and performed material is dense with class awareness.

“Black Waters” – Jean Ritchie

A truly timeless classic that remains as relevant today as in the time of its writing, as clean water protections across the U.S. have been repeatedly gutted since 2016 – and before. Our country continues to show where its priorities are, beating down protests and demonstrations even as popular and supported as Standing Rock, in order to force us to acquiesce and give up protection of our waters. The lyrical hook is even more poignant to someone, like myself, living in Tennessee Valley Authority territory in the Tennessee River Valley – where coal ash and pollutants are still regularly dumped into our waterways. These tales, these experiences, are best told directly from their sources, as in Ritchie singing this song.

“Carpal Tunnel” – Tristan Scroggins

One can find many a recording of “Carpal Tunnel” from across the years, but mandolinist Tristan Scroggins, in his mid-twenties, pointedly places this track in the present, delivering the lament in stark a capella accompanied only by body percussion. He deftly ties the lyric to embodiment and agency and reminds all of us – especially in an age governed by devices causing carpal tunnel writ large – we’re all merely one injury away from bankruptcy. Musicians know this fear intimately, as many a livelihood has been threatened by tendonitis and carpal tunnel.

“Tear Down the Fences” – Ola Belle Reed

A perfect encapsulation of solidarity across our differences – differences constructed by the ruling class to keep us quibbling amongst ourselves while they amass their wealth. This sort of community awareness often feels like a pure byproduct of the internet’s version of globalization, but even a woman banjo player from a tiny town in rural Western North Carolina understood that “all we have is each other,” way back before the worldwide web. It feels obvious to state. It shouldn’t seem remarkable, except that we’ve accepted the narrative that such compassion and ideas couldn’t possibly be born from rural spaces or the South.

“Blue Collar Blues” – Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers

From the shop steward of Industrial Strength Bluegrass himself, Joe Mullins, a classic working-man-blues-style bluegrass number about that paycheck to paycheck life. An all-too-common reality for so many pickers! Though that might be more accurately described as blueGRASS collar blues.

“Dark as a Dungeon” – The Country Gentlemen

Bluegrass mining songs are just as iconic in the bluegrass songbook as train songs, cheatin’ songs, murder ballads, and singing about moonshine. This version of “Dark as a Dungeon” by the Country Gentlemen is one of the best examples of the form – many of which made it onto our full playlist.

There are so many more bluegrass, old-time, string band, folk, and Americana songs for striking. Check out our full playlist below and let us know: What is your favorite pro-worker roots song?

Playlist selections by Justin Hiltner, Shelby Williamson, Jon Weisberger, and Amy Reitnouer Jacobs.

Photo Credit: By John Vachon in 1938. “Untitled photo, possibly related to picket line at the King Farm strike. Near Morrisville, Pennsylvania.” Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Robbie Fulks Reflects on a Funny, Smart and Heartfelt ‘Bluegrass Vacation’

Posted on by Editor

In the liner notes to his new album Bluegrass Vacation, released at the beginning of April, Robbie Fulks talks about his formative experiences in the genre. He also mentions how, as a young musician in the early ’80s, he drifted away from it in search of the coolness of trendier sounds. “But what made me think there was anything cooler than bluegrass?” he asks, playfully reprimanding his younger self.

Bluegrass Vacation makes the case that there is indeed nothing hipper than some of the world’s most decorated musicians tearing into a tried-and-true format. And it doesn’t hurt when they do so in service of smart, funny, heartfelt material, which is what Fulks delivers here and is emblematic of his output for the past three decades. While he proves that he can write rollicking back-porch jams like “One Glass of Whiskey” and “Let the Old Dog In,” he also slows the tempo for tender acoustic beauties like “Molly and the Old Man” and “Momma’s Eyes.” And in the stunning “Angels Carry Me,” he pushes bluegrass boundaries with a multi-movement piece of fearless lyrical and musical complexity.

Considering it took 2 ½ years from first session to album release due to pandemic holdups, Fulks is thrilled to finally have Bluegrass Vacation out in the world. He talked to BGS about early influences, his impressive cohorts on the record, and whether he’d consider dipping back into the genre again.

BGS: What are your earliest memories of bluegrass and what drew you to it?

Robbie Fulks: Early memories are a reel-to-reel tape of Doc Watson’s first Vanguard record. There were a couple of other records on the tape as well, but Doc was the first thing up, “Nashville Blues” going to “Sitting on Top of the World,” that warm, beautiful, versatile sound. Doc did all these different things that kind of put him one foot in bluegrass and one foot out. That was probably the earliest thing that hooked me. And then after that it was like The Country Gentleman and Will The Circle Be Unbroken. A couple of other records that my folks had, and then the festivals.

What made you decide that now was the time to do an all-bluegrass record?

Generally, over the last 10 years, I’ve been making more inroads. My bluegrass hot-shot Rolodex has expanded to where it’s like, holy shit, I have Jerry Douglas’ email and can call Sam Bush (laughs). It just seemed like it had reached a tipping point the last couple of years where it was like I gotta do this. The older guys are going to be dead soon including myself, and that’s part of the reason (laughs). But I’ve been leaning that way more and more for the last five to 10 years.

Did your songwriting process change at all?

I varied my angles on the songwriting as I went along. On a couple of them, I had a genre thing in mind. Like “Lonely Ain’t Hardly Alive,” I was thinking about Jimmy Martin in the late ’50s and early ’60s and wrote to that. With “Angels Carry Me,” that came about because I had inked (mandolinist) Sierra (Hull) on a session. I started thinking about what kind of a groove I would like to hear her on and wrote from the groove forward thinking about the way she plays.

And did writing for bluegrass steer you in the direction of any particular subject matter?

I’ve noticed that I gravitate repeatedly toward four or five rough subjects over and over again. One of them is alcohol, and that shows up in a couple songs. One of them is memories of when I was a kid, and that shows up. Or music itself. When these subjects show up, I always think “Should I go ahead, or not go ahead?” Because it’s well-trodden ground for me. Like “Old Time Music Is Hear to Stay,” I thought “Well, I’m writing another song about music. I’ve done of lot of that. Should I go forward?” And as I went forward with the song, I just found that I really liked it and that compensated for any qualms about having done something similar before. I guess it’s a long-winded way of saying no, it really wasn’t any different. Just going into a room with an instrument and seeing what happened.

Considering the incredible instrumentalists on this record, did you give them a lot of direction? Or was it more like, “Here’s the song. Let it rip?”

Generally, I’ve noticed in the studio that the less I say, the better. Because it’s surprising how you can say four words that seem well-chosen and exactly what you want and then things go haywire because it’s overinterpreted or misinterpreted. My approach is that I definitely have things in mind and I chart and have rough end points in mind. But when you hear the first go at it, I go with the idea that that’s what it’s going to be, like 90 percent, and then I direct the other 10 percent of it as delicately as I can.

Tell me about recording “Angels Carry Me,” which is fearless with how it expands the notion of what a bluegrass song can be.

The people that were on the session, it skewed a little younger, because Sierra was there and (guitarist) Chris (Eldridge) was there. And (fiddler) Stuart (Duncan) is just kind of ageless and genre-less, just pure music. Todd (Phillips) is the same way on the bass. He’s a really wide-brained guy. I think if it had been different players, it might have been more of a challenge. But those players can go anywhere and just have adventurous spirits, as do I. It was never a question that it would be too weird for somebody to get their mind around.

That song also has one of my favorite lines I’ve heard in a long while: “And only a fool thinks he can leave just by driving away.”

That was a line that took me by surprise. I worked on the song for three or four weeks in an attitude of mystery and concern (laughs). Because I didn’t know where it was going or what I was doing. It was kind of amorphous. But the appearance of that line at the end, it seemed like, “Ah, that could have been in my sights the whole time and I just didn’t know it.” It appeared as a gift.

Did you have to embellish any of “Longhair Bluegrass,” which talks about you going to see a festival as a kid with your parents?

I think the only untrue part is that in the fourth verse, I put an example of somebody at the festival, an old-timer that was not into the younger generation and their attitude. And I put in Wilma Lee Cooper because I looked at a poster of that Culpepper festival. Her name fit and I thought the age bracket kind of fit. In the session, Sam Bush said, “No, she was real easy-going about it.” I said, “Who wasn’t?” And he said, “Probably Ralph Stanley.” So I put that in. That was a little untruth, because I didn’t see Wilma or Ralph at that festival looking around angry. And maybe my parents weren’t stoned out of their heads like I implied in the song (laughs).

You talk in “Old Time Music Is Here to Stay” about picking up the electric guitar and then losing interest in it as you returned to more traditional sounds. How accurate is that?

100 percent. I think it was just a natural thing for me to want to swim with the current when I was 17 years old. But even at the time, I think it was at the back of my mind that this music by, I don’t know, Aztec Camera and Big Country or U2, it was OK, but it just didn’t grab me in the way that I was grabbed by a Doc Watson record. It was a little bit more work coming to the popular music of the late ’70s, early ’80s. But what can you do? The stuff that gets in you when you’re five or ten years old, that’s the stuff that doesn’t go away.

Did you feel extra pressure on this record because you wanted to do the genre proud?

There was pressure there, but it was more from being in an isolation booth and looking out the glass door and seeing Sam Bush over there or Ronnie McCoury over there. No matter how welcoming these people are, it’s a mind fuck to pick up your instrument and be playing with them (laughs). It freaked me out a little bit.

I know you just finished this one, but is it possible you could return to the genre again somewhere down the road?

I’m starting to think about what to do next. I’m open-minded. If people like this enough, I loved doing it. I would do another one.

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

From “Ghost in This House” to “O Death,” Our 13 Favorite Boo-Grass Classics

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Ah! There’s a chill in the air, color in the leaves, and a craving for the spookiest songs in bluegrass — it must be fall. Bluegrass, old-time, and country do unsettling music remarkably well, from ancient folk lyrics of love gone wrong to ghost stories to truly “WTF??” moments. If you’re a fan of pumpkins, hot cider, and murder ballads we’ve crafted this list of 13 spooky-season bluegrass songs just for you:

The Country Gentlemen – “Bringing Mary Home”

THE bluegrass ghost story song. THE archetypical example of “What’s that story, stranger? Well, wait ‘til you hear this wild twist…” in country songwriting. (Yes, that’s a country songwriting archetype.) The Country Gentlemen did quiet, ambling — and spooky — bangers better than anybody else in bluegrass.

Cherryholmes – “Red Satin Dress”

Fans of now-retired family band Cherryholmes will know how rare it was for father and bassist Jere to step up to the microphone to sing lead. His grumbling, coarse voice and deadpan delivery do this modern murder ballad justice and then some. 

One has to wonder, though, with so many songs about murderous, deceitful women in bluegrass — the overwhelmingly male songwriters across the genre’s history couldn’t be bitter and misogynist, could they? Could they?

Zach & Maggie – “Double Grave”

A more recent example of unsettling songwriting in bluegrass and Americana, husband-and-wife duo Zach & Maggie White give a whimsical, joyful bent to their decidedly creepy song “Double Grave” in the 2019 music video for the track. Just enough of the story is left up to the imagination of the listener. Feel free to color inside — or outside — of the lines as you decide just how the song’s couple landed in their double grave. 

Alison Krauss – “Ghost in This House”

Come for the iconic AKUS track, stay for the impeccable introduction by Alison. Equal parts cheesy and stunning, if you haven’t belted along to this song at hundreds of decibels while no one is watching, you’re lying. Not technically a ghost story, we’re sliding in this hit purely because a Nashville hook as good as this deserves mention in a spooky-themed playlist.

The Stanley Brothers – “Little Glass of Wine”

Ah, American folk music, a tradition that *checks notes* celebrates the infinity-spanning, universe-halting power of love by valorizing murdering objects of that love. Kinda makes you think, doesn’t it? Here’s a tried and true old lyric, offered by the Stanley Brothers in that brother-duet-story-song style that’s unique to bluegrass. What’s more scary than an accidental (on purpose) double poisoning? The Stanley Brothers might accomplish spooky ‘grass better than any other bluegrass act across the decades.

Missy Raines – “Blackest Crow”


A less traditional rendering of a folk canon lyric, Missy Raines’ “Blackest Crow” might not feel particularly terrifying in and of itself, but the dark imagery of crows, ravens, and their relatives will always be a spectre in folk music, if not especially in bluegrass. 

Bill Monroe – “Body and Soul”

The lonesome longing dirge of a flat-seven chord might be the spookiest sound in bluegrass, from “Wheel Hoss” to “Old Joe Clark” to “Body and Soul.” A love song written through a morbid and mortal lens, you can almost feel the distance between the object’s body and soul widening as the singer — in the Big Mon’s unflappable tenor — objectifies his love, perhaps not realizing the cold, unfeeling quality of his actions. It’s a paradox distilled impossibly perfectly into song.

Rhiannon Giddens – “O Death”

Most fans of roots music know “O Death” from the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack and the version popularized by Ralph Stanley and the Stanley Brothers. On a recent album, Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi reprise the popular song based on a different source — Bessie Jones of the Georgia Sea Island Singers.

The striking aural image of Stanley singing the song, a capella, in the film and on the Down from the Mountain tour will remain forever indelible, but Giddens’ version calls back to the lyrics’ timelessness outside of the Coen Brothers’ or bluegrass universes and reminds us of just how much of American music and culture are entirely thanks to the contributions of Black folks.

Johnson Mountain Boys – “Dream of a Miner’s Child”

Mining songs are some of the creepiest and most heartbreaking — and back-breaking — songs in bluegrass, but this classic performance from the Johnson Mountain Boys featuring soaring, heart-stopping vocals by Dudley Connell, casts the format in an even more blood-chilling light: Through the eyes of a prophetic, tragic dream of a miner’s child. The entire schoolhouse performance by the Johnson Mountain Boys won’t ever be forgotten, and rightly so, but this specific song might be the best of the long-acclaimed At the Old Schoolhouse album. 

Oh daddy, don’t go to the mine today / for dreams have so often come true…

Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch – “Didn’t Leave Nobody But the Baby”

A lullaby meets a field holler song on another oft-remembered track from O Brother, Where Art Thou? The disaffected tone of the speaker, in regards to the baby, the devil, all of the above, isn’t horrifying per se, but the sing-songy melody coupled with the dark-tinged lyric are just unsettling enough, with the rote-like repetition further impressing the slightly spooky tone. It’s objectively beautiful and aesthetic, but not… quite… right… Perhaps because any trio involving the devil would have to be not quite right? 

AJ Lee & Blue Summit – “Monongah Mine” 

Another mining tale, this one based on a true — and terrifying — story of the Monongah Mine disaster in 1907, which is often regarded as the most dangerous and devastating mine accident in this country’s history. AJ Lee & Blue Summit bring a conviction to the song that might bely their originating in California, because they make this West Virginia tale their own.

Jake Blount – “Where Did You Sleep Last Night”

“In the Pines” is one of the most haunting lyrics in the bluegrass lexicon, but ethnomusicologist, researcher, and musician Jake Blount didn’t source his version from bluegrass at all — but from Nirvana. That’s just one facet of Blount’s rendition, which effortlessly queers the original stanzas and adds a degree of disquieting patina that’s often absent from more tired or well-traveled covers of the song. A reworking of a traditional track that leans into the moroseness underpinning it.

The Stanley Brothers – “Rank Stranger”

To close, we’ll return to the Stanley Brothers for an often-covered, much-requested stalwart of the bluegrass canon that is deceptively terrifying on closer inspection. Just who are these rank strangers that the singer finds in their hometown? Where did they come from? Why do none of them know who this person or their people are? Why are none of these questions seemingly important to anyone? Even the singer himself seems less than surprised by finding an entire village of strangers where familiar faces used to be. 

For a song so commonly sung, and typically in religious or gospel contexts or with overarchingly positive connotations, it’s a literal nightmare scenario. Like a bluegrass Black Mirror episode without any sort of satisfying conclusion. What did they find? “I found they were all rank strangers to me.” Great, so we’re right back where we started. Spooky.

16 Bluegrass Songs for Summer Vacation

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s summer, our second in the “after times,” where road trips, national parks, and scenic byways are king. As you head off on your COVID-aware vacations this summer, don’t leave all the driving music to indie, easy listening, country & western, or rock ‘n’ roll. The chop of the mandolin, thump of the doghouse bass, and rapid-fire roll of the five-string banjo are just as suited to soundtrack your sunny forays. To prove that point, here are 16 bluegrass songs perfect for inclusion on your summer vacation playlists. (Listen to the full playlist on Spotify below.)

“Highway” – Claire Lynch

Bluegrass being an itinerant livelihood and a nomadic community, traveling songs are just as expected a feature as murder ballads, train tunes (a form of travel song unto themselves!), and moonshine running tales. This modern classic via Claire Lynch — written by Lynch and Irene Kelley — is a perfect example of the form, more ‘90s country offered by a string band than a traditional, four-on-the-F-style grassy track. It’s delightful — and perfectly winsome and longing when you find yourself listening while traveling down the highway.

“Handsome Molly” – Tim O’Brien

Our July 2021 Artist of the Month Tim O’Brien’s rendition of this bluegrass classic is a far cry from, say, a Flatt & Scruggs’ cut. O’Brien’s has a slight transatlantic bent — with a distinct island detour, perhaps through the sunny Caribbean. If you’ve found a craving to set your foot on a steamboat and sail the ocean ‘round deep inside your soul, this one’s for you.

“1952 Vincent Black Lightning” – Del McCoury Band

Another track with a transatlantic story, this ever-popular, most-requested number covered by the Del McCoury Band is a road trip staple — whether you get in or on your vehicle to hit the highway. It would be a sin to make a bluegrass summer vacation playlist and not include “1952 Vincent Black Lightning!”

“Val’s Cabin” – Laurie Lewis

A rare example of a bluegrass song actually about summer vacations, this Laurie Lewis original, “Val’s Cabin,” begins as a simple retelling of childhood memories — nostalgia being a common rhetorical device (and when attempted by many other writers, a well-worn trope) in bluegrass. But Lewis, a veteran through-hiker, wilderness excursioner, and backpacker as well as a Grammy-nominated bluegrass singer and songwriter, tinges the story with melancholy and the existential questions raised by the ever-worsening climate crisis. The song is as evocative as it is gorgeous; though the singer can’t find the way to “Val’s Cabin” any longer, every listener can.

“Paddy on the Turnpike” – Vassar Clements

If you ever happen to find yourself Crossing the Catskills on a summery jaunt, “Paddy on the Turnpike” must be in your listening rotation. Avoid the tolls, but still go for a ride on the turnpike with Vassar Clements’ wild, unpredictable, jaw-dropping, wonky fiddling. “Paddy” is a blank canvas for Clements and a study in bluegrass’ unending affinity for flat seven chords.

“Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” – Tony Rice

A hit in nearly every jam circle that ever circled, “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” is almost as if “Gentle on My Mind” had been written by a much less kind or compassionate protagonist. Tony’s solo vocal stylings are as iconic as his six-string licks, nearly obliterating any memory of this song ever having been sung by anyone else. What’s more, the titular advice of the track still stands. Just don’t.

“Highway 40 Blues” – Larry Cordle & Lonesome Standard Time

Because “Interstate 70 Blues” just doesn’t roll off the tongue. And that melodic hook should go down in history as one of the best country licks to ever lick! Cordle wrote one built for the long haul with “Highway 40 Blues.” It’ll keep you good company as you go wherever and back.

“Banjo Pickin’ Girl” – Annie Staninec

Is there any better reason to go around this world than being a banjo picker? There are never enough banjo pickin’ girls and this anthem, no matter how many times it’s picked up, studied, and retooled by another banjo pickin’ girl, always SLAPS. (Clawhammer pun intended.) Fiddler and multi-instrumentalist Annie Staninec, who’s traveled around the world making music quite a bit herself, gives an excellent old-time rendition of this favorite.

“A Crooked Road” – Darrell Scott

Darrell Scott turns a literary device pretty common in songwriting on its ear, with a tender eye for detail and emotion that he brings into all of his musicmaking. Life is, after all, about the journey — not the destination. Why not take the crooked, and thereby, the road less traveled? 

Plus, take this song as suggestion: The Crooked Road, Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail, is well worth a visit. Put this song on and take the Crooked Road.

“Up and Down the Mountain” – David Parmley & Continental Divide

Work life doesn’t suit you? Does “paradise” mean a fiddle and the open road? If so, “Up and Down the Mountain” is for you and your road trip playlist. Especially if you’re planning on trekking through the Rockies, Sierras, Ozarks, Applachians, or what-have-you. Turn off cruise control, watch for the runaway truck ramps, and go up and down those mountains! David Parmley & Continental Divide know something about geography and topography, after all…

“Roving Gambler” – The Country Gentlemen


Not sure why you’d be headed to Las Vegas during one of the hottest summers on record, but if you’ve got your sights set on a casino — wherever it may be — crank up “Roving Gambler” and hope your 2 a.m. slot machine binge or your evening “re-learning” blackjack ends more amiably than with gunfire. Speaking of which, perhaps “Blackjack” deserves a slot on this playlist…

“Travelin’ Prayer” – Dolly Parton

The kick-off of one of Dolly Parton’s masterpieces, her 1999 bluegrass album The Grass Is Blue, “Travelin’ Prayer” was actually written by Billy Joel. Yes, that Billy Joel. The original, from 1973’s Piano Man, featured banjo playing by Eric Weissberg and Fred Heilbrun. So of course the tune stands up to the bluegrass treatment and then some, between Stuart Duncan’s haunting fiddle cadenza to begin the track, the rip roarin’ tempo and train whistle harmonies, and the lonesome feeling of being away from your baby while he travels the world. We’re gonna assume Dolly’s blessed pen and ink added the lyric: “And keep him away from planes / cause my baby hates to fly!”

“Road to Columbus” – Kenny Baker

Growing up this writer frequented a bluegrass jam in Granville, Ohio, about 25 miles east of the state’s capital, Columbus. Like clockwork, every week as the jam wound down around noon on Wednesdays, Troy Herdman — a local bluegrass community stalwart, Doc Watson-style flatpicker, and mentor of many who lived in or around Columbus — would call this tune. Everyone would chuckle, and we’d play “Road to Columbus” as everyone, but especially Troy, hit the road to Columbus. 

Herdman passed away last week at the age of 91. I certainly wouldn’t be the musician I was today if it wasn’t for Troy, and I know quite a few others who would say the same. So no matter where I travel, I always keep “Road to Columbus” nearby. Especially when I’m headed home to Ohio.

Many pickers speculate over whether Kenny Baker and Bill Monroe were referencing Columbus, Ohio, or Columbus, Indiana. But, according to Roland White — who introduces the song with an anecdote from his time on the road with Monroe — it’s about Ohio. For this Ohioan, that’s confirmation enough!

“That’s How I Got to Memphis” – Tom T. Hall

His own recording of one of his most popular hits may sound more like straight up and down country than ‘grass, but even the most casual fan of Tom T. Hall knows that this Bluegrass Hall of Famer is bluegrass to his core. If you’re headed down I-40 from Nashville — or, really, towards Memphis from any direction, no matter how direct or circuitous, this song is a must-add for your road trip playlist.

“Where Rainbows Never Die” – The SteelDrivers

This song is about a decidedly different kind of journey, not often referred to as a “vacation,” but even so it’s a poignant, encouraging, and downright delicious song to background any journey. If you’re road weary — or life weary — “Where Rainbows Never Die” is a certified pick-me-up that doesn’t shy away from reality, like the grit and coarseness in Chris Stapleton’s lead vocal wrapping you in its warmth. There’s a comfort in life not being sugar-coated — and in knowing somewhere, west of where the sun sets, rainbows never die.

“Home Sweet Home” – Flatt & Scruggs

Home never feels so sweet as when you’ve just returned after a long, restful, relaxing vacation. So we’ll close our summer vacation playlist with Flatt & Scruggs’ rendition of this tune pulled directly from the American songbook, “Home Sweet Home.” We hope a banjo roll always greets you at your door, and if not, this playlist will at least cover that for you. Wherever you roam, there’s no place like home! And no music like bluegrass.

Editor’s Note: Check out our follow up playlist, Take the Journey: 17 Songs for a Sunny and Warm Summer Vacation