Tag: the osborne brothers

The Story Behind a 1981 Masterpiece: The Bluegrass Album

Posted on by Editor

Tony Rice wanted to do a bluegrass album in 1981, but not just any bluegrass album.

It was time for another Tony Rice project for Rounder Records, though he had always made his bluegrass records along with those that featured his take on David Grisman’s genre-expanding musical experiment that Tony dubbed “Spacegrass,” such as Acoustics (1979), Mar West (1980) and Still Inside (1981).

By this time, Tony had also been part of many groundbreaking bluegrass recordings, including the legendary Rounder 0044, J.D. Crowe & The New South (1975), as well as solo albums such as Guitar (1974), California Autumn (1975), Tony Rice (1977) and the marvelous Manzanita (1979), which managed to become one of the best bluegrass recordings of all time without a banjo. In addition, he and Ricky Skaggs offered one of the best examples of early country duet styles on the inimitable Skaggs and Rice (1980).

The album Tony had in mind in 1981 would go on to be considered a masterpiece: The Bluegrass Album. It would also launch a franchise, with subsequent volumes in 1982, 1983, 1984, 1989, and 1996.

Tony didn’t yet have a name for the album but he wanted the new record to be a straight-ahead paean to the early bluegrass he was raised on, specifically the canon of Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs. The reason, to him was clear: 1

“I remember thinking back then very well that bluegrass music was really in the toilet. And it was. It was at maybe its lowest point in its history. It was a rarity to even see a good bluegrass band that used an acoustic bass back then. Bluegrass bands were spread out all over the stage, individual microphones ten feet apart and it was just like a different world. It wasn’t there anymore. And The Bluegrass Album was kind of a deliberate attempt to get back to that.

“And it worked; it hit the bluegrass music world with ten times the impact that I thought it would in terms of satisfying or pacifying any bluegrass aficionado. Even the more contemporary players liked it. The traditionalists really liked it. All of a sudden here was this sound again, and it hadn’t been done since Flatt & Scruggs and Monroe and [Jimmy] Martin and Jim & Jesse at their best, and [The Osborne Brothers’] Sonny and Bob at their best. And here was the music resurrected again in its purest form, maybe even a little more precision than the originals.”

When it came time to choose who would play on the record, he thought of course of J.D. Crowe, whose playing by this time was deeply embedded in Tony’s sense of rhythm and timing. He also thought of Doyle Lawson and Bobby Hicks “…because I thought that they could do it better than anybody that I could think of. I knew I was going to be doing a bunch of Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs stuff, and I wanted to do a bluegrass album that was just as pure as it gets.

“The banjo player was logical, but I needed a mandolin player and tenor singer that could cover both of those sectors of bluegrass and do it well. Doyle was the only guy that could have done it, who could have played mandolin like that. On a Monroe tune, he could give it a Monroe flavor, and he could give it a Monroe tenor. On a Flatt & Scruggs tune, he could give it that Everett Lilly or Curly Seckler flavor, tenor too.

“And back then, Bobby Hicks was really riding the wave of a bluegrass fiddle renaissance. I mean, there was the smoothness of Kenny Baker and the unusualness of Vassar Clements, but there was a fiddle player in Hicks that was almost like every damn bluegrass fiddle player from Howdy Forrester, Chubby Wise, all the way down through the ranks, rolled up in one. And not only that, but he could play it so hard and so deliberate. And when it came time to back up something, he knew exactly what to do. And you can hear that shit. That’s the reason his backup on those mixes, if you listen to it, it’s really loud. His backup is in your face as much as the solos are—it was too pretty not to have it out there.”

Tony recalled that “Bobby and I ended up recording on a record of Ricky’s called Sweet Temptation. I heard Bobby playing that fiddle in the studio and we became real good friends.”

J.D. Crowe remembered that it was his idea to include Lawson: “Tony was talking to me about who to get for tenor. There was [Jimmy] Gaudreau, there was Ricky, there was Doyle. I said, ‘Well, for what this project is… And we’ve played with Ricky. So I think probably Doyle.’ Now I love Gaudreau’s singing, but for this record, Doyle was the one to have, for the mandolin playing, and the timing, and tenor pull, the phrasing. And I don’t think Tony had worked with Doyle at that time.” 2

On bass, Tony turned once again to his constant musical companion in this era, Todd Phillips, a fellow alum of the David Grisman Quintet. While Todd had played second mandolin in that group, he turned out to be an amazing bassist, and he played on both Guitar and Manzanita as well as on Tony’s Spacegrass recordings.

As the band listened to the results, Tony began to rethink how the project should be branded: “The first Album Band album was slated to be a Tony Rice bluegrass album and then after I got everybody together and started hearing playbacks, I thought, no, I’m not gonna do that. This sounds too much like some sort of a band. It came out under everybody’s name. I didn’t invent the name ‘The Bluegrass Album Band.’ I’ve always detested it. Milton Harkey is the inventor of that name.

“By the time the band had decided to go on a tour, it had to call itself something. Nobody knew what to call it. I didn’t know what to call it. And by then, the buying public in the bluegrass world had been buying three volumes of this stuff, and they were calling it The Bluegrass Album. Milton’s logic, I think, was, ‘Well, this is The Bluegrass Album Band. This is not just the album, this is going to be the band.’”

The group’s early albums were recorded in Berkeley, California, at 1750 Arch Street, the studio where Tony had recorded most of the Grisman records as well as Tony Rice (his first Rounder solo record), Manzanita and his first Spacegrass recordings. The session was cut with no headphones and no overdubs.

Tony remembered: “The first three volumes there were no overdubs. The idea was that when you edit, you’ve still got the entire ensemble playing together rather than piecing it together one guy at a time or making tracks and going back to overdub vocals. No matter how much you edit, you’ve still got the band playing live.

“There were two rooms at Arch Street. There was a big, elegant room upstairs with a control room that was in this mansion of a house and the guy who owned it was the first violinist for the San Francisco symphony. He was getting old and he built this room after he retired so that he could play his violin and hear it. And that was the main room at Arch Street, but they also had an isolated, conventional studio downstairs that was adjoining the control room.

“So the first two volumes of the Album Band were done in the upstairs room, and you could hear a pin drop. When you get guys gathered around, you could just hear every little nuance working together. We were individually miked and then Billy (Wolf, the engineer) hung a Neumann quadraphonic mic over the top of the whole ensemble for the purpose of capturing the room sound.”

To Tony it was more important to capture the spirit and energy of the traditional bluegrass from the 1950s: “I will accept mistakes to be able to have it live if it’s got the spirit. Listen to those Album Band records—they’re loaded with mistakes: off-pitch harmony vocals and weird tuning discrepancies here and there; missed fiddle notes. But who gives a shit? It’s almost like the discrepancies have a value of their own.”

Although Tony had a definite idea of the kinds of material he wanted to record, he admitted, “It was kind of a collaborative thing, you know. I came up with a list of tunes before we went into the studio, a list of 20 tunes to pick from. And Doyle would bring out a couple other things, and then when we got in the studio, a lot of times we’d do just whatever came to mind.”

Doyle Lawson remembered in more detail how part of the material was chosen: “Most of the time, J.D. and I would fly out together, and we’d usually meet in Atlanta and fly from there to California. And we’d write down a list of songs. I’d say ‘What about this?’ And he’d say, ‘Yeah. What about this?’ And we’d make us a list. We’d have eight, ten or twelve, whatever. We’d have a whole slew of them. And then when we got out there, Tony would have his list. We’d go through and kind of pick ‘em out—‘Who knows this one?’ ‘Yeah, I do!’ We might run through them one time or so just to figure out what we were going to do, who was going to do what where.” 3

But these were not mechanical recreations of the originals. At various times, the players would be adamant about not playing breaks or certain signature phrases because they didn’t appear in the originals, yet they also needed to play to the strengths of this extraordinary set of musicians. For one, there were no guitar breaks in the originals, but then again, in the ‘40s and ‘50s, they didn’t have Tony Rice.

Tony remembered: “I think it was Doyle who talked me into playing any guitar solo I played on the first couple volumes. I didn’t want to do any. But it was Doyle who kept kind of prodding, ‘Well, I don’t want to play a mandolin solo there. People are going to expect you to play a little bit.’”

Tony’s break on Flatt & Scruggs’ “Blue Ridge Cabin Home” has become such a classic that you will undoubtedly hear it in jam sessions today. Blue Highway banjoist Jason Burleson remembers hearing “Blue Ridge Cabin Home” and Tony’s break for the first time: “It was the first time I ever heard Tony play a solo. I had no idea it was a guitar. I distinctly remember thinking, ‘Wow that’s a cool mandolin break,’ until it got to the end and there was a G Run, and I thought, ‘There’s no way that was a guitar.’ I must have set the needle back 50 times trying to comprehend what I just heard. I really didn’t know that was even possible to do on a guitar.

“At that point I’d been playing a couple of years and all I ever saw a guitar player do was a G Run. I became instantly obsessed with that solo and his solo on ‘Molly and Tenbrooks’ on the same album, and ended up buying every record I could find with Tony’s name on it. At every festival, I went in search of anyone who could maybe show me a little bit of how to do that. I remember being really skeptical that anyone could actually play and sing that well. I thought it surely must be some kind of studio trick. Then of course I saw the Album Band in Denton [North Carolina] and it was even better than the record.”

“Blue Ridge Cabin Home” is the obvious choice to begin this collection. The power and precision of both the playing and singing here make it a standout track, one that the group, once it began touring, kicked off almost every show with. When they performed at the very first International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA) awards show in Owensboro, Kentucky, in September 1990, they became the only group in the history of the awards to earn an encore. From Crowe’s power pinch, fans knew they were in for a thrill.

Crowe recalled that the group didn’t need to spend a lot of rehearsal time on the material because they all knew it so well: “Just our phrasing, that was the only thing. And that wasn’t hard either, because we had all done ‘em so much and done ‘em together. Especially me and Tony. And of course, Hicks, he learned off the same thing we did. So it just fell together.”

To Doyle, who was busy at the time touring and building repertoire with his own new band Quicksilver, it “…was a joy just getting to be there and not have to do anything except play mandolin and sing tenor. For me, I was in seventh heaven.”

Perhaps the moment that best defines the power and drive of this record, and indeed, the whole series, is J.D. Crowe’s half break near the end of “Molly and Tenbrooks.” His slide seems impossibly long and his syncopated, bluesy phrasing syncs with Tony’s guitar to create one of the great moments in the history of the genre, even if it is only a few seconds long.

Once again, engineer Kevin Gray of Cohearant Audio has outdone himself for a new reissue on Craft Recordings with a stellar all-analog remastering with lacquers cut from the original stereo master tapes. With the album now available for the first time ever on vinyl, the first hi-res remastering is brilliant, bright and powerful—a must-have for any of the countless fans of these classic recordings as well as a new generation just discovering the magic of Tony Rice and his entourage’s Golden Age recordings.

Like so many of those other Tony Rice records, The Bluegrass Album’s versions of these classic songs became the standards that subsequent generations would learn and continue to emulate. Indeed, within a couple decades of its release in 1981, groups in parking lot and campground sessions were describing the songs from this record and subsequent BGAB projects as “old Bluegrass Album Band songs…”

And this continues today. It’s a measure of the legacy of this record and those that followed in the series. Tony certainly succeeded in bringing “the real stuff” back front and center in the music. The audience for this kind of music had never really gone away, but it was the 1980s that saw the first real neo-traditionalist flowering in the genre’s history, with groups like The Johnson Mountain Boys and Nashville Bluegrass Band hitting their stride. The first tap into that free-flowing keg of tradition was The Bluegrass Album.

1 Author interview with Tony Rice, 2006; other Rice interview material from Still Inside: The Tony Rice Story (Word of Mouth Press, 2010).

2 J.D. Crowe interview with Author, 2005.

3 Doyle Lawson interview with Author, 2008.

The 15 Best Country Albums of 1976

Posted on by Editor

Country music has a long-standing reputation as being a genre focused primarily on breaking songs at radio and, consequently, one that releases albums routinely dismissed as “hits plus filler.” Conventional wisdom is not entirely wrong on this point, but it is wildly overstated. The truth is that every year is a good year for country albums—and that was once again the case fifty years ago.

I wouldn’t crown 1976 as the greatest country-album year ever—as I once suggested at No Fences Review, that title may belong to 1973—but the U.S. Bicentennial was yet another year filled with fantastic, even essential, country albums. Of course, any Best-Of music list is subjective, but I’d argue the best ones both validate reader experiences (“Oh hell, yes! That’s a great one!”) and challenge their taste (“What the hell?”).

So, listed alphabetically only, and with the understanding that I could have easily doubled the length of the list below, here are my 15 Best Country Albums of 1976.

Jessi Colter – Jessi

Colter will forever be best known for the pissed-off vulnerability of her “I’m Not Lisa,” the quiet crossover hit off I’m Jessi Colter. But Jessi, her follow-up in ’76, is the better album. Colter’s quaver doesn’t always hold, or even hit, the notes she’s after, but somehow that limitation consistently deepens the domestic turmoil she sounds in her songwriting. And the wild, bluesy, and country-rock arrangements on “The Hand that Rocks the Cradle” and on No. 11 hit “It’s Morning (And I Still Love You)” only reinforce Colter’s conflicting emotions. “Without You” opens at a crawl, just voice and piano like it’s going to be the unhappy sequel to “I’m Not Lisa,” then suddenly it’s a party. “Without you I can’t go on,” she keeps insisting, but you can tell she’s already starting to dance.

Stoney Edwards – Blackbird

Stoney Edwards’ final Capitol album included several tracks that, then as now, sound like they should’ve been good-sized hits, but both the sweet country pop of “Love Still Makes the World Go ‘Round” and the prayerful version of Merle Haggard’s “Don’t Give Up on Me” barely charted at all. In the uplifting but controversial social commentary “Blackbird (Hold Your Head Up High),” which just missed the country Top 40, Edwards used the N-word to describe himself and his father—pointedly so, to shine a light on the white world’s bigotry and oh-so shrewdly, as well, to claim country music for his own. The unexpected closer, a crawling six-minute version of Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on a Wire,” is a perfect vehicle for Edwards’ worn-sandpaper baritone: “I have tried in my own way to be free…”

Emmylou Harris – Elite Hotel

Elite Hotel was technically out in 1975, but since it wasn’t released until Dec. 29th, I’m more than pleased to include it among the best of ‘76. On her second album, and as of that April, her first No. 1, Harris dedicated her luminous voice to bridging country scenes new and old. She memorably covered her late friend Gram Parsons twice even as she also scored a pair of chart-toppers with versions of classic hits by Buck Owens and Patsy Cline—and added a No. 2 hit with George Jones deep cut, “One of These Days.” I know the competition has been stiff, but is this Emmylou Harris’ best album?

Waylon Jennings – Waylon Live

Recorded at shows in Dallas and Austin in 1974, Waylon Live is my pick for Greatest Country Live Album Ever. Jennings is at his tender, burly best and Ralph Mooney adds lightning-strike pedal steel throughout, atop the Waylors’ thumping, bumping country rock. From “T for Texas” (“Wanna hear me yodel?”) to “Bob Wills Is Still the King” to “This Time,” this is Outlaw country at its artistic peak. Pro tip: The 11-song original LP was bumped to 20 tracks when reissued on CD in 1999, then expanded to 42 tracks in 2003, and will still leave you wanting more.

Loretta Lynn – When the Tingle Becomes a Chill

Lynn was never much of an album artist but this one goes on her short list. The title track, written by Lola Jean Dillon, is a women’s movement anthem that lays out the cold, hard material conditions of domestic life. You wish Lynn had gender-flipped her cover of the Glen Campbell hit to “Rhinestone Cowgirl” or that her only song credit here, “Red, White and Blue,” didn’t claim Cherokee roots for herself quite so stereotypically. But those are quibbles next to how persuasively she transforms each cut here as a statement of her absolute Loretta-ness.

The Osborne Brothers – Number 1

This Osborne Brothers album included zero No. 1 hits, zero songs that include the phrase “number 1” and, what’s more, was approximately their 18th studio album, not their first, so my guess is that this album was called Number 1 because it was their first for bluegrass label CMH. Regardless, Number 1 pops like only the Osbornes can. It’s filled with Bobby’s great high leads and jaggedy mandolin solos, with Sonny’s ringing banjo and, for even extra pop, David Brakefield on high-lonesome drums. A-Team pianist “Pig” Robbins even drops by on “Memories Never Die” and “Each Season Changes You.” Bluegrasspolitan!

Johnny Paycheck – 11 Months and 29 Days

This album didn’t include any radio hits to speak of, the way earlier Paycheck sessions with producer Billy Sherrill had, and certainly nothing as monumental as the pair’s “Take This and Job and Shove It” would the following year. But would you settle for some of Paycheck’s greatest performances? The title track (a Paycheck/Sherrill co-write) is a rough-and-rowdy, in-the-jailhouse classic, while “The Feminine Touch” is a tragicomic testament to the way every domestic nicety abandoned Johnny when his wife moved out, and “Gone at Last” (a Paul Simon song and duet with soul singer Charnissa) is delivered with fingers-crossed, Pentecostal mania. Best of all is “I’ve Seen Better Days,” a miserable country-soul masterclass that begins with Johnny coming to on the lawn.

Elvis Presley – The Sun Sessions

Either a jolting reminder or thrilling revelation, depending upon when you came in, The Sun Sessions brought together for the first time Presley’s first commercial recordings, the game-changing sides that both challenged and help to expand what people thought of when they thought of country music. It kicks off, of course, with the genre-scrambling debut single “That’s All Right” b/w “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” and gathers as well his game-changing run of initial rockabilly hits—all on country radio, mind you—including his career-first chart-topper: “I Forgot to Remember to Forget.” In June 1976, the reissue of the year peaked at No. 2 on the country album charts.

Charlie Rich – Silver Lining

Country soul singer Charlie Rich teamed here with producer Billy Sherrill for a gospel album that remains too little known. Silver Lining features the dynamic rhythm beds and harmony group arrangements, and the deeply felt and swung vocals, that were already beloved from Rich’s many seventies country hits. Indeed, the versions of “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” “The Milky White Way,” “Down by the Riverside,” “Why Me” and the rest would fit thrillingly on any of Rich’s albums in the decade. I especially appreciate the Silver Fox’s joyous, rousing intervention on the normally staid “Amazing Grace.”

Linda Ronstadt – Hasten Down the Wind

Mention Linda Ronstadt in a county music context and people will jump first to her Trio collaborations with Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris, then maybe recall her contributions to the country rock scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s. But her most important and lasting contributions to country music were her several big radio hits in the middle of the decade. Hasten Down the Wind further cemented old-time rock and roll sounds as up-to-date country with her version of Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be the Day” (a No. 27 hit) and reestablished Patsy Cline’s reputation for new country and rock fans with “Crazy” (a No. 6 hit). The album also paved the way for the acceptance of a certain type of arena rock balladry for countless country stars to come—especially with the pedal steel-powered “Try Me Again,” a song Ronstadt co-wrote with Andrew Gold.

The Seldom Scene – The New Seldom Scene Album

This is the Seldom Scene late in its classic lineup’s run (John Duffy, John Starling, Mike Auldridge, Tom Gray, and Ben Eldridge) as they put their newgrass stamp on old gems from the Stanley Brothers and a couple of new ones from Rodney Crowell (including harmony vocals from one Linda Ronstadt on his “California Earthquake”). This album has often been judged as lesser than earlier efforts by the Scene, but I love the way it leans so hard into eclecticism, which is this ensemble’s always-seen calling card. From the album’s opening, rolling-on-home version on Jimmy Buffett catalog cut “Big Rig” to their closing Dobro-and-harmony-forward cover of Hank Williams’ “Pictures from Life’s Other Side,” this set feels like one more tent pole for big-tent bluegrass.

Various Artists – Wanted: The Outlaws

Sitting atop the country album chart for two months early in the year, this compilation served as the national coming out party for a long-simmering scene that remains a genre touchstone to this day. Technically speaking, several of the album’s cuts weren’t Outlaw at all: Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter’s duet “Suspicious Minds” had been released as a single before Jennings’ famously renegotiated his RCA contract, and two of Willie Nelson’s contributions, “Yesterday’s Wine” and “Me and Paul,” had already been released as a failed two-sided single before Nelson left Nashville for Texas. Time changes everything, though, and when rereleased in 1976, these cuts were understood to crystallize progressive-country sounds and the genre’s newly rebellious attitude. The first country album ever to be certified platinum, Wanted: The Outlaws nudged country music in the direction of becoming more explicitly an album-oriented format, just like rock, even as Outlaw country also became, ironically, country music’s next big pop crossover sound. Don’t sleep on Tompall Glaser’s fantastic version of “T for Texas”!

(Read more about Wanted: The Outlaws.)

Leona Williams – San Quentin’s First Lady

When Merle Haggard played a New Year’s Day show at San Quentin in 1976, his opener was Leona Williams, who was a member of his touring troupe as well as his future wife and songwriting partner. He wrote most of the songs she performed, and his band, the Strangers, backed her up. But make no mistake: This is the Leona Williams Show. She sings the husky hell out of “I Wonder Where I’ll Find You at Tonight,” “San Quentin” and “Workin’ Girl Blues,” and she and guitarist Roy Nichols both like to tear the placed down on “If Anyone Ought to Know.” San Quentin’s First Lady is long out of print, but do yourself a favor and track down it down on YouTube.

Hank Williams Jr. – Hank Williams Jr. and Friends

Hank Williams Jr. and Friends was recorded before the singer nearly died falling off a mountainside in April of 1975. But, like Elite Hotel above, it wasn’t released until December and didn’t chart until ‘76. Timelines aside, this is the album where Hank Jr. finally began to find a rocking, modern sound of his own in the swelling southern rock anthems “Losing You” and “Can’t You See” (by his friend Toy Caldwell of The Marshall Tucker Band) and tender ballads like “On Susan’s Floor” (by Shel Silverstein). But it’s the pair of minor hit singles that close the album, both Williams originals, that steal the show and predict his superstar future. The haunting “Stoned at the Jukebox” is a boozy honky-tonker about the loneliness that closes in after all your rowdy friends head home, while “Living Proof” wrestles with having to live up to family traditions. Among the very best country albums of the entire Outlaw moment.

Bobby Womack – BW Goes C&W

R&B legend Bobby Womack’s country album was summarily panned in its day, but working a bigger-tent understanding from here in the 21st century, it sounds awfully good to me. Womack leans hard into the soul of the already soulful Charlie Rich hit “Behind Closed Doors,” brings a playful modern bounce to the mid-century Eddy Arnold smash “Bouquet of Roses,” and makes over another Rich hit, “I Take It on Home,” into delightfully ragged countrypolitan. Most telling of all, as far as cracking open genre walls goes, is when Womack turns away from the Nashville songbook to underscore the country in his brother Curtis Womack’s “Don’t Make This the Last Dance” and the song Sam Cooke wrote for Womack’s old family group The Valentinos, “I’m Tired of Living in the Country.”

Lead image: Emmylou Harris, Elite Hotel; Waylon Jennings, Waylon Live; Jessi Colter, Jessi.

C.J. Lewandowski’s Essential Bobby Osborne Moments

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I was fortunate to grow up in a time and place where some of the first generation of bluegrass artists were still out performing – and that is my heart. To see these guys on stage made me want to dive in the music more and learn all I could from the people that helped create it. Bobby Osborne is part of the reason I play bluegrass music for a living. I wanted to be like him. He’s also one of the reasons I still play music for a living. At one time, I was gonna give it all up – several times actually – but Bobby’s love for the genre 70-plus years after he started was encouraging. He also believed in me and I can never thank him enough for that.

I met Bobby for the first time in 2004 and got a picture with him (that is included in the new album’s liner notes). The kid in that picture would have never guessed what the next 20 years would hold for him.

Touring with Karl Shiflett’s Big Country Show and then The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, I was around Bobby a lot on the circuit and always made time to visit him. I later joined him for a few months at the Kentucky School of Bluegrass & Traditional Music in Hyden, Kentucky, where I took lessons from him. From there, we somehow became buddies. I started visiting him at home and stayed in constant communication with him.

The new album on Turnberry Records, Keep On Keepin’ On, is a reflection of our friendship. It started as a project with Bobby, then was shelved for quite a while. I couldn’t bear to hear his voice on this record after his passing in June 2023. Then, with a little help from friends and Bobby’s spirit, the project became one that was for Bobby. The original idea was awesome, but what it has bloomed to be with all these amazing guests to help me out– I would have never imagined. I hope folks enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it, and Long Live Bobby Van Osborne! – C.J. Lewandowski

March 17, 1973 was an extremely historic moment for bluegrass music. In this video you are viewing the very first time that bluegrass was played in The White House with the most iconic bluegrass song of all time, “Rocky Top.” Bobby was so proud of this moment and spoke of it often. You can see the joy in his face.

This features a 1970s Gibson mandolin that he later traded for a 1924 Gibson F-5. It was plugged right into an amp, which was also a historical moment for bluegrass. Bobby gave me the strap he is wearing in this video and it now resides in the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky.

The Osborne Brothers were all over network television for decades and this is an example of such with “Ruby.” Even in his 40s, Bobby is stretching his boundaries. The instruments are tuned up 1/2 step, playing a E flat in D position. These are suits that were made by all the wives of the band members, as well.

“Rosie Bokay” is probably my favorite song on the new album. Paul Brewster sings the album cut and is also featured on the guitar in this video. Bobby heard Lincoln Hensley kick this off in the studio, just toying around, and he immediately said, “Let’s do that.” So we did! What Bobby wanted, Bobby got. He sang a scratch vocal, but was never able to get back in the studio.I think Bobby would be very proud of Paul’s vocals on the song.

The look in Bobby’s eyes was incredible in this video. I have a feeling he was proving a point to someone for some reason. Could it have been the divorce he was going through? Could it be the heart surgery that was near to this video taping? Who knows. I just know that Bobby was singing his ass off and I love it!

This has nothing to do with Bobby’s music, but I feel like this needs to be recognized. This is an hour-long interview pertaining to his time in the Korean War. A huge part of Bobby’s life. It may be a long video, but if you want to learn about Bobby Van Osborne, this is mandatory.

He was truly an incredible force of a human being in every aspect. Thank you for your service, Bobby.

This is live at Bean Blossom in 2009 featuring a song from Bobby’s solo career that he recorded on Rounder Records. Bobby talked about cutting this song again on the newest project, but we didn’t get to it. What a great message, right? Bobby’s compassion for people was always present.

Bobby did a YouTube series of him playing his favorites. Here is an example of Bobby playing his own piece, “7th of December.” Mind you, he was in his late 80s and could still play great. This is one of the actual tunes of his own that he taught me while visiting him at his house.

Twin banjos, steel guitar, the Grand Ole Opry, the best singing – can’t ask for anything else.

Bobby worked for several months with The Stanley Brothers before being shipped off to basic training and planned to return to work with them when he came back home. He had no idea his brother was working with Bill Monroe.

This video was filmed at the most important place to Bobby, the Grand Ole Opry. The twin banjos of Sonny and Bobby’s son, Wynn, are just amazing, This song is also featured on the new project. Bobby singing it at 91 years old is a different kind of hurt.

Photo Credit: C.J. Lewandowski (left) and Bobby Osborne (right) by Jeff Daugherty.

MIXTAPE: “Tempus Fugit” – Joe Mullins’ Past, Present, and Future Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I’m rarely satisfied with the status quo. And I love roots music that is bona fide. Well, I’ve used up most of my Latin vocabulary very quickly.

I didn’t know what “Tempus Fugit“ meant until I got a wonderful new song from Tim Stafford and Missy Raines, both great artists, writers, and old friends. Missy and I were together with our bands at Americanafest in Nashville in 2024. I was chatting with her and said, “We’ve been doing this a long time,” since we got acquainted in the 1980s, as we were both learning everything about the bluegrass community. Missy said, “Yes, but we have heard so much great music and met so many wonderful people. And getting older isn’t a bad thing!” Then she told me she and Tim had a song about the subject. I had to hear it and I loved it!

Our new single, “Time Adds Up (If You’re Lucky)” is out just a few weeks after the new gospel album from JMRR was released in March. Thankful and Blessed is a collection of eight new sacred songs and two revived oldies. I’m grateful for the opportunity to deliver the spiritual message and provide an inspiring gospel collection, but I’m thankful for a great variety of music, and I’ve been blessed by the powerful talents of great musicians, singers and songwriters of all kinds.

So, this Mixtape is truly a mix – some songs from the past that inspire me, a tune from the current JMRR gospel album, and our latest bluegrass single from an album releasing in the near future. Carpe diem! – Joe Mullins

“Time Adds Up (If You’re Lucky)” – Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers

“Time Adds Up (If You’re Lucky)” is the new bluegrass single by JMRR. “Tempus Fugit” are the first words of the song, meaning time flies. The lyrics were so relatable for me at this phase of life. I have been on stage with a banjo and on radio in some capacity since 1982. Now, over four decades later, I have my first grandchild – and she’s gorgeous by the way!

I’m not just lucky, I’m thankful and blessed.

“My Ropin’ Days Are Done” – Blue Highway

Tim Stafford is such a great writer! This is a favorite recording of one of the most consistent bands of the past 30 years. Wayne Taylor sings with soul and the song is as lonesome as a one-car funeral procession.

“Yardbird” – Larry Cordle

Music has to be fun sometimes! I love a good sad song, but clever lyrics that are so entertaining have been penned by Larry Cordle for years. And the mighty Cord is a great singer, too. Cord is also one of my favorite people, one of those who you always look forward to seeing. He’s been very supportive of my recording career, providing many songs. He and Larry Shell wrote “Lord I’m Thankful” in our new gospel album and a new working man’s song in the Radio Ramblers bluegrass album that releases soon.

“Andy – I Can’t Live Without You” – Ashley McBryde

She has such a believable delivery, and this song is gritty and sincere. The beauty of simplicity can’t be beat – a great voice, a killer song, and one guitar.

“Gonna Be Movin'” – Larry Sparks

Sparks is a stylist, both vocally and instrumentally. He’s an original in every way. I’m pretty sure he has his own zip code. Interestingly, Larry sings three of the four vocal parts in the quartet portions of this recording from the 1980s. Randall Hylton was a superb songwriter and performer whose home-going was way too soon. His bluegrass gospel songs will be enjoyed eternally and this is one of Randall’s best. I was fortunate to have a song from Randall’s catalog that was never recorded, and it’s the a cappella selection in our new album.

“Looking at the World Through a Windshield” – Daniel Grindstaff with Trey Hensley

One of East Tennessee’s great banjo men, Daniel Grindstaff, produced one of my favorite recordings of 2024. I love good, driving country music. I’ve managed a small network of radio stations for many years and we feature a lot of hard-hitting country music from every era. Daniel and Trey nailed this old truckin’ tune with a contagious, grassy groove.

“Beneath That Lonely Mound of Clay” – George Jones & The Smoky Mountain Boys

Yes, it’s a sad song. Graveyard tunes have always been part of the bluegrass and country canon. But I want the world to be aware of this album. Jones went to the studio with Roy Acuff’s band in the very early 1970s and recorded his favorite Acuff songs. The album wasn’t released until 2017. I’m a huge fan of George’s music from his six-decade career and he was in his prime here with an acoustic band that helped define country music on the Grand Ole Opry stage.

“Journey On” – Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers

If you’re enjoying the mixtape in order, we need something uplifting after our stop at the cemetery. This is a new song featuring the Ramblers quartet. The perseverance of the saints is celebrated in this tune from our new album Thankful and Blessed.

“From Life’s Other Side” – Lee Ann Womack

I was fortunate enough to produce an award-winning album during the pandemic. This song is on the 2021 IBMA Album of the Year, Industrial Strength Bluegrass. The album celebrates music I grew up on in my neighborhood, Southwestern Ohio. Dave Evans was an Ohio singer and songwriter with soul oozing out of every note he breathed, like Lee Ann Womack. Her treatment of one of Dave’s rare songs was a highlight of that album that is so special to me.

“Lonesome Day” – The Osborne Brothers

I must include an Osborne Brothers song, because I’ve listened to their music almost daily for my entire life. Bobby’s vocal delivery and Sonny’s banjo genius are among my greatest influences. This cut was produced about 1977. They went to the studio to record a collection of songs from their traditional bluegrass roots, after crossing over into mainstream country during the previous decade. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a more pure voice, and each instrument rings with huge tone because of the perfect touches, including Kenny Baker and Blaine Sprouse on fiddles, and the legendary Bob Moore on bass. Just turn it wide open on repeat!

Photo Credit: Brandy Buckner

The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys: “Everything That Is Traditional Now, Once Was Progressive”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Over the past decade, The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys have established themselves as a modern voice in traditional bluegrass. They are equal parts researchers, archivists, and artists, continually reframing what it means to be “traditional” – with a particular focus on the ways that bluegrass and roots music have always been progressive and boundary breaking.

For BGS, I spoke via video call to mandolinist CJ Lewandowski and fiddler Laura Orshaw around the release of their new album, Wanderers Like Me. We talked about their unique approach and mission for the group, we covered a lot of ground, and I left the conversation feeling inspired to put more thought behind my own mission in music making.

I see that you are coming up on 10 years as a band. Many years ago I had the pleasure of writing a bio for The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, and I’d love to know a bit about the way the band has developed and changed over the years?

CJ Lewandowski: I think we are all ten years older than when we started, for one, and that’s a lot. It started as four guys working at a distillery, you know, working a day job. … There was no traveling, no planning, no pushing to be something. And it naturally progressed. There were videos coming out and promoters started calling and asking us to come out and play.

A lot of people plan for stuff, and they push and push, and everything we’ve been involved with before this band was like that, plowing through clay. You push and you push and never get anywhere. Then this band just happened. We didn’t think we’d be traveling in a bus and going all over the world, but here we are!

Laura Orshaw: The coolest thing for me is seeing the material and the message of the band start to come together. Everybody is really interested in super regional groups from around where they grew up, or maybe just bands they got interested in, so the members have interesting and diverse listening palates.

For several years, the band was doing a lot of covers that people hadn’t heard before, drawing on that research. Then, for the past five years, we’ve been doing a majority of original material and I think that the conversations that it brings up within the band are new … like, “How did you come up with this?”

For example, a lot of the more recent songs are about traveling. … For me, I spin that from the women’s perspective, a lot of them are about mom or a woman waiting back home and I like to think about, “What if a woman sings this song?” I think a lot about those classic themes but making sure they’re relevant to the modern days.

You’re one of the few bands that has never changed their commitment to traditional bluegrass over the years. Tell me about that interest in maintaining your style and how to you resist the temptation to move in more commercial directions?

CL: We had a manager at one point and we were talking about different material we could cover, and I said, “I don’t know if that’s gonna fit us…” And he said, “Well whatever you play, you’re gonna play it the way you play, so it’s gonna sound like you.” I think about that a lot, because I think he’s right.

I try to stray from the word “traditional” and think more about “authentic.” It’s just the way we play, and the way we learned to play from the mentors in our home regions. Anything we do is going to sound like that. We just play and sing true to ourselves, it’s not a plan or an act, we kind of let it go with the flow

There has been pressure sometimes– maybe the band should push this way or that way, but all in all, it’s like, “Well, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it…” We are all just true to the way we play

LO: What CJ said, “whatever you do is gonna sound like you” – with the current album coming out, it’s the first time we’ve had a really heavily involved producer, Woody Platt (formerly of the Steep Canyon Rangers), working with us from pre- to post-production. I think five people are going to have their own opinion about every suggestion that comes up, but because of Woody we did try a lot of things that I don’t think we would have individually gone for. And after we all did them, we usually liked them.

CL: Woody had our sound in mind, and he said, “The main thing is, I want you guys to be you.” We spread our wings, we got a little more vulnerable. There’s a natural progression to all of this and this record is a great next step.

LO: It was just really refreshing to work with a producer and have that level of focus and excitement, having that external voice that studied and focused is huge.

Since the time I wrote your bio, Laura has formally joined the band, tell me about what she’s added to the group and how that came about? I think it’s such a magical fit, and really rounds out the sound of the band.

CL: Her first show with us was in December 2017 at the Station Inn and after that she did some sporadic shows with us and played on our next couple records. In January 2020, she joined full time and she has officially been with us for four/four and a half years now. We tried a lot of different fiddle players on the road and nothing fit quite like what she had on the table; the attitude, the drive, and the musicianship

I’m a huge fan of triple-stacked harmonies, like Jimmy Martin and Osborne Brothers, so she brought a completely different vocal opportunity to the group. There was us three guys, and we could do some three-part harmonies, but with her we could move to different keys and had a lot more flexibility. … And of course, her fiddle playing is sassy and full of energy.

A lot of people ask about the name, The Po’ Ramblin “Boys,” but there’s a tradition of that in bluegrass, with Bessie Lee playing with The Blue Grass Boys, and Gloria Belle with The Sunny Mountain Boys. I like playing into that. But it’s also the band saying, “Hey we aren’t limiting.” Like, whoever can cut the gig, we love you! We’re very open and try to be as inclusive as possible. There are a lot of demographics in the group and she just added another one. …

Bluegrass Unlimited dubbed us as being “progressively traditional,” and it’s true in that everything that is traditional now, once was progressive. I don’t try to stand on a soapbox, and it took me a long time to figure it out, but I’m a queer artist, and I didn’t have anyone to go to when I was figuring that out and I didn’t feel I had a place. So, a lot of the stuff we do today has an open mind to it. [I’m included in] an exhibit in American Currents at the Country Music Hall of Fame and I put a rainbow guitar strap in there just to say, “Hey we’re out here, and holler at me if you need something.” Because I didn’t have anyone to look up to in that way.

Can you tell me a little bit about the album art for this new record, Wanderers Like Me?

CL: The cover photo is a painting of a cowboy. It plays into the title and many of the songs on the record and goes back to the story of wandering all over the country. But that piece of art was painted by our bass player Jasper’s great-grandfather, who was a North Dakota scene painter born in 1900 who painted all the way until his passing. His artwork is in governors’ mansions, he was a very prominent artist and to include something like that for our album art is also another way of honoring tradition.

LO: The way I see bluegrass, it’s a truly American art form. just like painting scenes, it reflects the culture and the time that it was painted in. In a lot of traditional art forms, there’s a kind of preservationist stance, but I think as a band we don’t like to have that mindset as a way to hold up barriers, or to say we don’t like modern or progressive music. A lot of what is told about American and bluegrass history is through a very particular lens; it’s very easy to see a fuller picture when you start digging. We travel and meet a lot of people, we live in modern society, we all have a lot broader perspectives than the people creating music years ago.
So, we just see this mindset as a way to make the music reach its full potential. Preserve and broaden it by being aware of what’s going on around us, thinking about language and thinking about American art forms.

CJ: “Being you” is it’s own art form as well… There’s a lot to just making sure that you’re being yourself.

The people that we learned from, it’s amazing to learn at the knee or the foot of these incredible people, but it’s not a boundary. It’s something that you take and grow from and learn from. Not everyone is perfect or mindful… I learned good and bad from some of these folks. You learn what to do and sometimes you learn what not to do. You take it from spades and grow from that. We want to honor people, but also make this a better realm for everyone. Just because you play traditional music doesn’t mean you have to have a traditional mindset.

I think the fact that this record is coming out on Smithsonian Folkways says a lot about the timeless nature of the music you are creating. What do you hope that folks will get from your music now and also in the future?

LO: I think that one of the most neat things is knowing [Smithsonian’s] mandate around preserving music, knowing that everything that they have and archive will be there for ever. It will always be available.

CL: there’s a lot of good material out there that’s been overlooked. I call listening through it “digging for gems.” As an artist, I hope that one day when we’re gone… someone might find our music like that. I don’t have any kids, so I really think about how my music might be left behind for the next generation. With Smithsonian, we could be dead and gone and someone’s great-grandniece could ask for a copy of our record from the label and even if it’s out of print, they will print one copy and send it to them.

You have a lot of songs about the hardships and joys of travel and touring, do you guys see yourself touring for another 10 years?

CL: There’s a lot of different factors, I think we’d all like to go as long as we can, but within this 10 years we have fiancés, marriages, children, people living in different states. In 2018, when we got Emerging Artist of the Year [award] at IBMA, I looked at everybody and I said, “OK, if you want out, get out now.” And we all put our hands in and said, “We got this.” We all got together about how if one of us going leave, then we’d all let it go.

We never really felt like there was a place for us for a long long time, so when we found success we felt like, “Wow, we did this together…” I think the future is bright, especially with this new album.

Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Julian Taylor, the Grascals, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We’ve got a fine collection of new tracks, videos, and performances for you this week in our premiere round-up, You Gotta Hear This!

Don’t miss some stellar bluegrass from genre staples – and labelmates – the Grascals, who are celebrating their 20-year anniversary, and Chris Jones & the Night Drivers. The former celebrate their heroes, the Osborne Brothers, with a cover of “Georgia Pineywoods” while the latter get topical while poking fun at doomsday rhetoric on “What If You’re Wrong.”

Jazzy roots duo Winterlark bring us a charming number with a somewhat unlikely subject– emojis. Well, and love gone not-so-right, too. Felled Oak, AKA Brian Carroll, also debuts “Taplines,” a track written while he worked the maple syrup season in Vermont. Singer-songwriter Amy Speace considers the construction of “The American Dream” with a brand new, summery music video and Spooky Mansion performs the title track from his upcoming album, What About You?, live outdoors on the ranch.

Don’t miss Julian Taylor’s debut of a brand new music video for “Pathways,” a song released earlier this week about family, connection, and inter-generational perspective that features the one and only Allison Russell.

To cap it all off, we’ve got an exclusive Yamaha Session from flatpicker Trey Hensley that posted to BGS earlier this week, too. It’s all right here and, we’ve said it before and we’ll say it again, but You Gotta Hear This!

Felled Oak, “Taplines”

Artist: Felled Oak
Hometown: Corinth, Vermont
Song: “Taplines”
Album: Smoke on the Hillside
Release Date: September 30, 2024

In Their Words: “All of the tunes on this project were birthed from time tapping trees in the sugarbush this past January here in Vermont. In the dead silence of winter, alone in a cluster of skeletal maples hiking uphill, I found myself humming and whistling melodies to keep myself (and the winter birds) company. Some of those melodies stuck and I’d pull out my phone, make a quick voice recording then when I got home transcribe them on the mandolin and octave mandolin.

“‘Taplines’ was a melody that fell beneath my own fingers effortlessly and when I brought it to good friend and musical partner, Mark Burds, a smile crept across his face as we played it together for the first time. All of these tunes were recorded in luthier workshops and small, personal spaces around central Vermont and featuring my closest musical friends. It’s music to be shared and played together, to connect. Intimate, organic, and honest.” – Brian Carroll, Felled Oak

“‘Taplines’ was really fun to put clawhammer on, because it’s one of those simple yet beautiful melodies that falls so nicely on banjo and it’s so satisfying to groove on.” – Mark Burds, banjo

Track Credits:
Brian Carroll – Octave mandolin, mandolin, upright bass, acoustic guitar
Mark Burds – Banjo

The Grascals, “Georgia Pineywoods”

Artist: The Grascals
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Georgia Pineywoods”
Album: 20
Release Date: August 23, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I don’t believe The Grascals would be in existence without The Osborne Brothers. Their heavy impact and influence on us is one of the main reasons we all love bluegrass music so much. ‘Georgia Pineywoods’ is a classic Boudleaux and Felice Bryant song originally recorded by The Osborne Brothers and it just felt very fitting for us to include it on this album celebrating our 20th band anniversary. We will always salute The Osborne Brothers’ music and their continued inspiration to The Grascals!” – Jamie Johnson

Track Credits:
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Danny Roberts – Mandolin
Jamie Johnson – Guitar, lead vocals
Terry Smith – Bass, baritone vocals
John Bryan – Guitar, tenor vocals
Jamie Harper – Fiddle, vocals

Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “What If You’re Wrong”

Artist: Chris Jones & The Night Drivers
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “What If You’re Wrong”
Release Date: August 23, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “Jon Weisberger and I co-wrote the song as a conversation with a conspiracy theorist. It’s meant to be a light-hearted look at the subject – I’m pretty sure it’s the first bluegrass song to mention chem trails! – but it does ask a serious question: When something earth-shaking is predicted, whether it’s the end of the world, a change of government, or just the results of a major ballgame, what do you do when it doesn’t happen? Do you question your sources or double down? We have so much of this in the era of social media and different realities we live with, it seemed pretty timely, and we had fun with it.” – Chris Jones

Amy Speace, “The American Dream”

Artist: Amy Speace
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “The American Dream”
Album: The American Dream
Release Date: October 18, 2024
Label: Wind Bone Records

In Their Words: “I’ve worked with Neilson Hubbard and Joshua Britt (their production company is Neighborhoods Apart) on a bunch of videos, so I trusted them to get the vibe of the song. Also, Neilson produced the record and Josh played on it, so I knew they got it. We all wanted to capture that feeling of the freedom of the end of summer. I grew up mostly in a small town with rural countryside all around it and we’d take long drives through the cornfields as the sun set. We shot this on a country drive and an abandoned cabin (also used in the album art) near Franklin, Tennessee. The appearance of the tractor and the train are coincidences.” – Amy Speace

Video Credit: Neighborhoods Apart, Neilson Hubbard and Joshua Britt

Spooky Mansion, “What About You?”

Artist: Spooky Mansion
Hometown: San Francisco, California / Bay Area
Song: “What About You?”
Album: What About You?
Release Date: August 22, 2024 (song); October 31, 2024 (album)

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘What About You?’ with the intention of painting a picture of my life through different stories. The places I’ve been and the people I come from have all made me who I am. In those early days of a relationship, when you’re getting to know someone, there are certain memories that you retell to explain who you are.

“The verses are meant to be quiet, subdued, and more introspective as I try to describe myself. The chorus is bigger and joyful as I turn the attention to the person I’m talking to. In all my experiences, ‘I didn’t even know that I was looking for you.’ It culminates in a repeated anthem at the end as a reminder that despite what you’ve already lived through, there is more in life that will keep changing you and continuously creating you into the person you are. In this case, it was a beautiful woman I’d recently met who is now my wife and love of my life.” – Grayson Converse, Spooky Mansion

Video Credit: Directed by Jacob Butler.

Julian Taylor, “Pathways” (Featuring Allison Russell)

Artist: Julian Taylor
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Song: “Pathways”
Album: Pathways
Release Date: August 21, 2024 (song); September 27, 2024 (album)
Label: Howling Turtle Inc.

In Their Words: “I remember sitting in my living room when the melody and chord patterns just came to me. Often, when I sit down to write music, it’s the first thing that I start playing that sticks, because it’s raw and honest. I worked the progression in several different ways. First on the acoustic guitar and then on the piano. I still have probably upwards of seven or eight takes of it somewhere on my voice notes. Some were quite punk sounding, while others were quite folk sounding. Ultimately, the sound of the melody and progression in 6/8 time seemed to have the most impact on me.

“This song became a lyrical collaboration between two friends of mine that are also neighbors. I was invited to hang out and write with my pals Robert Priest and Rosanne Baker Thornley, who has a studio down the road from me. When I arrived, I showed them what I had been working on and they loved it. We ultimately wanted to write a hopeful song that spoke to our next of kin, and since we all have children who are the most important people in the world to us, we followed that inspiration. I performed with my friend Allison Russell at the Juno Awards this year and asked her if should be interested in collaborating on the song seeing as she is a mother as well and I am so honored that she said yes and brought yet another magical spark to our creation.” – Julian Taylor

Track Credits:
Julian Taylor – Vocal, guitar
Allison Russell – Duet vocal
Colin Linden – Electric Dobro, mandotar, bass, harmony vocal
Gary Craig – Drums, percussion
Jim Hoke – Saxophones
Janice Powers – B3 organ

Winterlark, “Ending With Heart Heart Heart”

Artist: Winterlark
Hometown: Santa Cruz, California
Song: “Ending With Heart Heart Heart”
Album: Sing To Me About Tomorrow (EP)
Release Date: August 23, 2024 (song); September 20, 2024 (EP)
Label: Squink Records

In Their Words: “It seemed that the world was ready for a song about the insidiousness of emojis, so I tried to write a modern-day song about a poorly communicated break-up, like the one in Elvis Presley’s rock-n-roll classic ‘Return to Sender.’ One of the keys to the song is the pairing of the sad lyrics with the happy, infectious beat driven by Kristin and drummer Chris Haskett. They make everything swing.” – Sweeney Schragg

“When Sweeney shared the core idea of this song, I do believe I laughed – uncomfortably. Aren’t we all guilty of throwing emojis at people instead of real words? Sweeney left six spots open for bass fills, a better gift than a box of black licorice (my favorite).” – Kristin Olson

Track Credits:
Sweeney Schragg – Guitar, vocals
Kristin Olson – Upright bass, vocals
Chris Haskett – Drums

Yamaha Sessions: Trey Hensley, “Hold What You Got”

On a sunny Sunday afternoon just outside of Nashville, Tennessee earlier this summer, BGS linked up with award-winning guitarist, songwriter, and jaw-dropping flatpicker Trey Hensley to kick off a new series of Yamaha Sessions. Hensley, a GRAMMY nominee and the reigning IBMA Guitar Player of the year, pulled his custom Yamaha FG9 R out of its road case to shred through a cover of a classic Jimmy Martin number, “Hold What You Got.”

Hensley is a picture perfect modern demonstration of how bluegrass trailblazers, like Martin, blurred the lines between country, old-time, bluegrass, and beyond. His voice reminds of honeyed country singers like Randy Travis, while his blisteringly quick picking and remarkable articulation are built on Tony Rice and Clarence White building blocks – but simultaneously, those techniques are as forward-looking and contemporary as his peers, Billy Strings, Jake Workman, and others. Hensley pulls limitless tone and warmness from his Yamaha FG9 R, even while approaching the song with near-aggression, ripping through acrobatic triplet licks and leaning into ugly delicious chromaticism in every solo.

More here.

Photo Credit: Julian Taylor by Robert Georgeff; the Grascals by Laci Mack.

Women’s History Spotlight: Hazel & Alice, Dale Ann Bradley, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

March is Women’s History Month, and BGS, Good Country, and Real Roots Radio have partnered to highlight a variety of our favorite women in country, bluegrass, and roots music with our Women’s History Spotlight.

Each weekday in March at 11AM Eastern (8AM Pacific) on Real Roots Radio, host Daniel Mullins will be celebrating a powerful woman in roots music during the Women’s History Spotlight segment of The Daniel Mullins Midday Music Spectacular. You can listen to Real Roots Radio online 24/7 or via their FREE app for smartphones or tablets.

Then, we will have a Friday recap here on BGS featuring the artists highlighted throughout the previous week. No list is comprehensive, but we hope to feature some familiar favorites as well as some trailblazers whose music and impact might not be as familiar to you.

This week’s edition of our Women’s History Spotlight features musicians and artists like IBMA Award winner Dale Ann Bradley, the legendary Dolly Parton, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductees Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard, early country hitmaker Kitty Wells, and Kentuckian-West Virginian Molly O’Day. Tune in next week for the final installment of our Women’s History Spotlight!

Dolly Parton

You knew it was coming. You can’t tell the story of country music (or American pop culture) without Dolly Parton. Growing up in Sevier County, Tennessee, she is not just the Queen of the Smoky Mountains, but quite possible the Queen of the Universe (if there was such a ridiculous title). Her rags-to-riches story will continue to be told and re-told for generations. Aside from her beautiful voice and philanthropic work (the millions of books that she gives to children through Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library is her proudest achievement), there are numerous other aspects about Dolly Parton that are remarkable.

Her business acumen is frequently praised, but it still bears repeating. Aside from her numerous endeavors (including Dollywood), it’s often worth remembering that she fought to regain control of her own career and decision-making from Porter Wagoner after her star began shining brighter than his scope of influence. (Remember, it was the ending of this business relationship that was the impetus behind Dolly writing one of her most famous songs, “I Will Always Love You.”) Call it a business decision or just genius, but Dolly’s ability to juggle embracing her role as an undeniable sex symbol and avoiding being labeled as “unwholesome” by conservative crowds has to be one of the most difficult tightrope walks in American entertainment.

Vanity Fair’s 1991 article “Good Golly, Miss Dolly“ did a deep dive into the dichotomy of Dolly’s role as a sort of clean sex symbol: “Dolly, in her openness, demystifies sex. ‘One of the things that makes the image work is that people understand that I look one way, but am another, that there’s a very real person underneath this artificial look,’ she theorizes. ‘It’s not like I am a joke. People can laugh at me, but they don’t make fun.’ … Indeed, Dolly Parton has become the billboard for sex without being the product itself.”

It is the way that she ensures that the “very real person” that is Dolly Rebecca Parton doesn’t get lost in the glitz, glamor, and boob jokes that is part of the reason why she is so endearing and universally beloved by folks from all walks of life; in a world where polarization is en vogue, Dolly is one of the few topics on which everyone agrees! She epitomizes the best of us.

Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard

Members of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard were an unlikely pair who blasted down doors for women in bluegrass. Hazel hailed from the mountains of West Virginia, while Alice was from across the country in Seattle, Washington. Alice attended Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio, where she was exposed to folk and bluegrass music. While a student there, she helped coordinate bringing The Osborne Brothers to the Antioch campus, making history as the first major bluegrass concert held on a college campus! After college, she wound up in the D.C. area, becoming active in their flourishing bluegrass scene, where she became friends and musical partners with Hazel Dickens – who had moved to the region with her family to find factory work years earlier.

Hazel & Alice became some of the first female bluegrass bandleaders and recorded some classic albums for Smithsonian Folkways and Rounder Records before embarking on successful solo careers by the mid-’70s. With Hazel’s mountain sound and Alice’s more folk-oriented sensibilities, their music appealed to both traditional bluegrass fans and those who were being introduced to the genre via the Folk Revival. Their original material which highlighted a woman’s perspective were critical in bringing a voice to women in the bluegrass canon. Decades later, their music and legacy is still rippling across American roots music, with artists as diverse as Rhiannon Giddens and Dudley Connell still celebrating their influence and impact.

Molly O’Day 

Born Lois LaVerne Williamson, country pioneer Molly O’Day was born in Pike County, Kentucky. She would become a popular radio star in West Virginia by the early 1940s, eventually leading Molly O’Day & The Cumberland Mountain Folks. Her band crossed paths with Hank Williams on the radio circuit and Molly even sang quite a few of his songs on radio and later in the recording studio. Molly learned “Tramp On The Street” from Hank Williams and it would land her a recording contract with Columbia Records. (Fun Fact: Her band at the time of her first Columbia recording session featured a young Mac Wiseman on bass!)

In an era when the term “hillbilly music” was still commonly used, Molly’s music, retroactively, could have country and bluegrass labels applied to it. Her powerful voice felt just as at home on an ancient balled like “Poor Ellen Smith” as it did on soul-stirring gospel songs like “Matthew 24.” By the early 1950s, Molly and her husband grew weary of life in the limelight and essentially retired from the music business, both dedicating their life to ministry. She would record a few gospel albums for some small record labels in the ensuing years, but her final album was released in 1960. She would pass away in the late 1980s, but she left a mark on country music and earned the respect of her peers at a time when the list of female country pioneers was relatively short.

Dale Ann Bradley

Revered as one of the most heartfelt bluegrass singers of her generation, this Kentucky songbird’s career started in earnest as a member of the Renfro Valley cast in her home state of Kentucky. The Renfro Valley Barn Dance was an extremely popular barn-dance style radio program in the 1930s and it spurred the creation of Renfro Valley as a country music entertainment destination in Kentucky. This helped kickstart the careers of folks like Steve Gulley, Jeff Parker, Dale Ann Bradley, and more by the 1990s.

While at Renfro Valley, Bradley would eventually join The New Coon Creek Girls, one of bluegrass’s only “all-girl” bands at the time, and aptly named after The Coon Creek Girls, a pioneering female string band of the 1930s who also started on The Renfro Valley Barn Dance.

Dale Ann’s soulful voice, largely influence by the Primitive Baptist tradition which she grew up around, quickly gripped the bluegrass world, leading to a successful solo career for the last three decades. In addition to recording songs that hearken to those familiar with mountain people and mountain ways, the appeal of Dale Ann’s voice has led her to adapt songs from outside of the genre to her style of bluegrass, tackling tunes from Tom Petty, Bobbie Gentry, The Grateful Dead, Jim Croce, and everyone in-between! Her diverse material has led me (and many others) to the conclusion that no matter the material, if Dale Ann is singing it, I already know I’m going to like it!

Kitty Wells

Hailed as the original Queen of Country Music, Kitty Wells hit a massive reset button on the role of women in country music after the massive success of her breakthrough hit, “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels.” Written by J.D. Miller, it was penned as the antithesis of Hank Thompson’s hit, “The Wild Side of Life.” After writing the song, the search began for a woman to sing it. Kitty Wells had pursued a country career, to little avail, and had essentially consented that maybe it wasn’t in the cards for her, when she was contacted to record the song. “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels” would become the first Number One hit by solo female in country music history, and its status as one of the most iconic country songs of all time only grows.

This explosion of success led to many other hit records by Kitty Wells, and opened the doors for those who would follow in her wake like Jean Shepard, Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton and more! You can’t celebrate Women’s History Month without honoring the gal who famously sang the line, “It’s a shame that all the blame is on us women!” (Still kind of bummed that Margot Robbie didn’t sing that line in Barbie. Seems like a missed opportunity to me!)

As an added bonus, here’s another cool version from 1993, where Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn, and Tammy Wynette recruited Kitty Wells to join them on a new version of this country classic on their collaborative album, appropriately entitled Honky Tonk Angels.

 

Bluegrass Memoirs: Visiting Rusty York (Part 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s note: All inset photos by Carl Fleischhauer.)

In my previous memoir I described what I knew of Rusty York when Carl Fleischhauer and I arrived at his Jewel Recording Studios in Mt. Healthy, Ohio, on the afternoon of August 15, 1972.

We had walked into the midst of a recording session. In the studio was the Reverend Bobby Grove (née Musgrove), his wife Fayette, oldest son Bobby Junior (a drummer), some other friends, and five studio musicians – Eddie Drake, lead guitar; Junior Boyer, pedal steel; Bob Sanderson, bass; Jack Sanderson, rhythm guitar; and Denzil “Denny” Rice, piano.

L: Rusty York in the studio control room recording overdubs by Bobby Grove, seated. R: Bobby Grove during a recording session. At the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

Later I wrote in my notes:

Grove has made 35 LPs. Has a “club” – he mails out each record to a list of 10,000, with a request for a minimum contribution of $4.00.

Originally from Kentucky, the Groves now lived in Hamilton, Ohio, where Bobby had opened his own church about four years earlier. I noted:

Rusty makes up soundtracks for him from the LP masters which are minus the voice tracks – he uses these in personal appearances.

Bobby’s wife Fayette described this process to me. “Really cuts down on the expenses. He just takes the soundtrack along. It’s really marvelous,” she said.

The studio was probably about a fifty-foot square, with the master panel occupying a quarter, the studio space an “L” around it… In the recording room, where I set up my cassette (it looked ludicrous!), was an 8 track, a 16 track and a 2 track. The recording was being done on 8 tracks.

Recording session at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972. At left, Bob Sanderson, bass guitar; right, singer Bobby Grove.
Recording session at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972. Performers shown here include Fayette Grove, Eddie Drake, Bobby Grove, Junior Boyer, and Bob Sanderson.

I ran the cassette intermittently trying to get snatches of conversation and brief interviews between phone calls, takes and visitors which never seemed to ruffle Rusty’s feathers. Obviously, he is a person of tremendous energy and talent, starting with his musical abilities (from rock to ‘grass) going to his present recording activities.

During this session Bobby had his bible tucked under his arm during every “take.”

After recording several songs, he asked Rusty: “Would it be all right, these next three songs, if I just sang the words — the country words — and then come in and do ‘em, like that? Then I’ll write ‘em. That way I’ll do something that we know real quick and we’ll just go through it and I’ll go home and write ‘em. And when I come in and mix it down just dub it in real quick?”

Rusty said, “Yeah that’s fine.”

During a break at a recording session at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972. Rusty York, recording engineer; Bob Sanderson; Jack Sanderson. In the background, Eddie Drake.
Tape box from the recording session for singer Bobby Grove at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

In the five years since I had seen him, York had expanded…to two studios (the other, bigger, in Hamilton) with loads of sophisticated equipment.

Rusty: “I bought a professional recorder in ’61, just in my garage. In fact, you know, you were out there.”

“So, you got into it kind of gradually,” I respond.

He nodded: “I didn’t just go and buy a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of equipment like a guy I knew here in town. He’s hurting; but I’m booked, you know, all the time.”

“Since you do this all the time,” I said, “you probably get rates from the pressing people, and so on?”

“I’m their biggest customer, yeah.”

What drew him into recording, I wondered.

He explained: “It just happened. It was really nice to make fifty extra dollars on Sunday, you know, by doing our own album, you know. Or some kind of session. Still, I still play music, I thought that’s what I want to do, you know. It got to be a, where I could make so much more money and not be the big hassle, like getting stoned every night that you played, chicks all over your body.” [Laughter]

Rusty York at the mixing board at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

Rusty appeared to be paying only scant attention to the recording session but every once in a while, would pinpoint out-of-tune instruments (…he can isolate mikes from the fairly well-baffled studio and hear exactly who’s doing what), suggest drum riffs, etc.

Rusty explained to us that his connections with Bobby Grove reached back to his earliest days in Kentucky:

“Yeah, we’ve all worked together at one time or another. Willard and I worked at Bobby’s father’s, he had a little barn dance and that, the Stanley Brothers –”

Grove’s son interjected: “Grandpa!”

Rusty said, “Huh?”

“You met my grandpa.”

“Yeah, probably before you was born.”

I asked: “What was his name?” “Jason Musgrove,” Rusty said.

Grove’s son recalled the venue well: “Did you know in that barn he had a sign, said no alcoholic beverages allowed in this area? He stayed drunk there all the time.”

“No!” Rusty replied in a mock serious whisper.

“That’s right”

“Well, we had a bottle or two out in the front of our car all the time.”

Grove: “I can picture him wrestling a bear.”

Rusty: “We saw a bear-wrestling match in there.”

Grove: “Was you there when that happened?”

Rusty: “Yeah. Were you around?”

Grove: “No, that was when I was born. ‘56” [Laughter]

Bobby Grove recording session at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972. Left to right: Eddie Drake, rhythm guitar; Junior Boyer, pedal steel guitar; Bob Sanderson, bass guitar; Bobby Grove, vocal.
Guitarist Jack Sanderson and singer Bobby Grove at a recording session at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

Rusty explained: “His grandpa ran a, what did he call it? Green Valley Barn Dance. And right now, that place is worth millions of dollars, and he lost it cause he couldn’t make the payments or something. Forty-two dollars a month payment.”

Grove: “Kent Valley Lake”

“Now it’s, you know, you could probably get twenty, thirty million dollars for the place. Got a big lake –”

“I started playing, I guess, when I first come to Cincinnati, about ’52. I just picked up an old guitar. My father bought me an old five-dollar guitar.”

“I went to see Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs first time up in Jackson theater in about ’53, I guess. And I just couldn’t believe man, anybody could play a banjo like that, I just… Boy! I stayed for both shows that night… I mean it was just like heaven then, ‘cause nobody, you couldn’t never see it. There’s so much of it now, you know. Everybody can play good now, you know. But then, it was only him. I had a tenor banjo, I put fifth key on it. It was a Mastertone too, Gibson. Four-string.”

Folklorist Neil V. Rosenberg and recording engineer Rusty York at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

The only five-string banjo style he’d known before Scruggs was that of his Grandma. He recalled that she’d made the head of her banjo from a groundhog skin.

“Willard Hale was from Somerset. Where I met Willard, I stopped into a little bar out in Cincinnati, and they had music. They set up a little amplifier and the mandolin with the guitar. Willard and this other fellow were singing duets and one guy played the mandolin. I set in with my banjo and then this one guy left and I – every weekend, I’d go out and play with them. Like Friday, Saturday night. Boy, free beer! I couldn’t believe it, you know, getting free beer and a, I found out later that this guy was getting paid for me all the time I wasn’t getting any bread.”

“Willard and I used to just stand on the stage, two of us, and play banjo and guitar and sing duets. Then Elvis came along and they started saying, ‘Hey you know “Hound Dog”’ and you know, man, ‘You from the country, you shouldn’t be asking for a song like that.’ And even country boys started liking Elvis, you know. And we had to switch over to electric guitar and a guitar and then switch over to bass, and we finally had to add drums, then turned into modern country. Although we were the highest paid ones in Cincinnati for a long time, just Willard and I. …Our salary was on ten-fifteen bucks apiece a night, but the kitty would be the kind of money, might be fifty bucks a night. And that was a lot then.”

“The highlight of our whole night was when we got the banjo and upright bass and Martin guitar out. And boy people really dug it, but we didn’t give ‘em too much of it, cause they still like to dance. [Otherwise] I played electric guitar and the other boy played bass. And we might play, sometimes an hour of bluegrass. Really it was a treat, you know, a change for the people.”

“I played banjo – ‘Down The Road’ and things like that. And every, the whole place would swarm the floor, you know. They’d do this soft-shoe backstep buck and wing hoedown. That’s what I call it. It’s almost like square dancing without any organization. Everybody just doing their own thing. But it, it’s that clog, what I call – the soft-shoe backstep buck and wing hoedown.”

I was curious about “Sugaree,” that jukebox single I’d bought in Oberlin back in 1960. Rusty explained:

“I was doing, you know, some bluegrass stuff and this guy came to me, said — that’s when the Chipmunks were popular [1959] — he said let’s go and record this ‘She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain’ we’ll go ‘She’ll be dum da da, Do diol lu’ (etc. — imitates twangy guitar doing first line of that song) and the Chipmunks go ‘Cha Cha Cha’ (high pitch).”

“On the way out there [to the studio] he says, what are we gonna do on the other side? I says, I don’t know. He said, well do ‘Sugaree’ or ‘Long Tall Sally’ or something, I said I don’t even know that. That was just decided on the way out to the studios. It was a bad record – shoo! I, I can’t stand to hear it.”

Rusty York at the mixing board at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

“We recorded it at King records studio. Paid for the session ourself. Forty bucks it cost. We tried to peddle it to everybody – RCA and Mercury – and nobody wanted it. So, we put it out ourselves on my [own label], started Jewel. It got to be number two in Cincinnati, and they said something must be happening, you know we pressed the thousand, sold them, pressed a few more and this guy, Pat Nelson negotiated with Chess Records and we leased it to them.”

“I did another record and they never released it. I died, as far as — I did the Hollywood Bowl, and American Bandstand with Dick Clark.”

I was also curious about those “Bluegrass Special” EPs he’d done in the early ’60s. Did he still have copies?

“Ah, I’ve got ‘em on tape, but I don’t have the actual records. You know, those sold a lot of records. Like 200,000… Used to hear Jimmie Skinner and I on that fifteen-minute thing [Wayne Raney show on WCKY], selling the package.”

Rusty told me about the next chapter in his story, which was new to me at the time:

“I went with Bobby Bare; you know I was front man for his show. Played Reno, Las Vegas and just about every state in the Union and I went to Europe, about ten countries. … in ’64 and ‘5. It don’t seem that long ago.” …

I replied, “It doesn’t to me either.” I asked, “You’re not playing any, now, then, are you?”

“No, I started back playing about two months ago in one of the biggest nightclubs here. I just couldn’t take it, ‘cause I’d have to get early do a session and I make 90 buck an hour here, over there I might make – I was playing for the door. Sometimes we would make six hundred bucks a night for the band and sometimes a hundred, split five ways. So–”

“I enjoy just sitting around and playing, but I don’t know, as far as getting before a crowd and doing a thing, I’m not crazy about it. It’s really work, to me. … Most people, I’ve found, have an ego problem. I don’t know if it’s ego or insecurity, but they want to get up before a crowd and sing and–”

“Work it out, up there?” I interjected.

“Yeah. Most, most people that are in the business are very insecure and [play to/depend on] the crowd a lot. Bobby Bare was … he was a nice guy but he was kind of a, well was insecure. He’d like to sleep maybe eighteen hours a day, escape from reality.”

I was struck by York’s insightful comment about musicians having an ego problem. In later years I’ve characterized it in this way: the musician, selling himself or herself, is both product and salesperson. It’s a vision that has stuck with me, like “Don’t Do It.”

Since my research was focused on bluegrass, I was eager to hear what Rusty had to say about it. He began by talking about recording bluegrass.

“Here I don’t do a lot of bluegrass now. Most of them don’t have the money to afford to record. … I try to give ‘em a real good break. Something that’s gonna be around for a long time, I mean a bluegrass record is gonna be around forever, because there always will be somebody that likes bluegrass. I charge them a flat rate you know – sixteen hundred bucks or so for a thousand albums. In other words, they could not afford to pay studio time and do an album and pay for the tape and the mix so I just give them a flat break, price.”

I suggested, “You must know most of the good bluegrass musicians in this area.”

“Yeah, I do. They all want to record with me because they, I understand it a little bit better than some engineers.”

He told me that it’s the most difficult stuff to record, explaining:

“Well, most of ‘em play and sing at the same time. You got a mic for the banjo over here and voice up here — you got two mics, you’re gonna have phase cancellation between them. A mandolin player, you’re gonna have to do the same thing. The bass leaks into the voice mics, cause he’s got to sing too, and it’s really difficult. … And they want to get, this space is big and they all like to get right together.” Pointing to the spread-out, country sidemen working with Grove in the studio, he said: “See how far apart these guys are now? And they won’t overdub. It’s a real challenge, I’ll say that. To get a real group in here, that’s really got good harmonies, you know that’s really nice. I’d almost do it for nothing.”

I asked, “Do the country DJs around here play much bluegrass?” “The Osborne Brothers,” he said, adding “Paul Mullins plays a lot of bluegrass. He’s very well liked and a lot of people listen to him. He’s got little witty – you’ve heard him – little witty sayings and he’s about that… Yeah, I’ve got an album by him coming out by him. It should be out any day now, that he cut here.”

Rusty York at the mixing board at the Jewel Recording Studios in the Mt. Healthy suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, August 15, 1972.

I closed my notes for that day summarizing the work at Jewel:

Rusty’s operation involves packages – he sells 1,000 finished LPs for $1600 (more or less, depending on studio time, number of tracks – the latter a function of tape since 16 tracks takes 2” tape, etc.) and he sees to recording, mixing, pressing, printing, art, etc. The musician who is buying the package pays for the sidemen though Rusty often (as in Grove’s case) sets up the session sidemen too. He assigns master numbers, keeps records of his operation, etc.

In Bartenstein and Ellison’s book, Industrial Strength Bluegrass (Illinois, 2021), Mac McDivitt devotes a section to Jewel, saying that by 2008, when Rusty retired, “Jewel had cemented a reputation as the ‘go to’ place to record in the Cincinnati area” (53-55). Selling the business, York moved to Florida. He died in 2014. Bear Family has released two CDs of Rusty’s rockabilly recordings.

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg. All other photos by Carl Fleischhauer.

Edited by Justin Hiltner.

Bluegrass Memoirs: Lexington, Kentucky and J.D. Crowe, 1972

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

[Editor’s note: All photos by Carl Fleischhauer, except publicity shot of Esco Hankins]

On the afternoon of Sunday, August 13, 1972, Carl Fleischhauer and I were in Jackson, Kentucky, at the finale of Bill Monroe’s Kentucky Bluegrass festival where we’d been since Friday. In my notes, I wrote:

We left after talking briefly with Monroe (I bought his new LP [Bill Monroe’s Uncle Pen] and latest single [“My Old Kentucky and You”] from him) and drove [85 miles northwest] to Lexington where we got a motel — the Flora — run by an 85-year-old lady who liked Bill Monroe and told us that Uncle Dave Macon stayed in the Flora whenever he visited Lexington. Dinner late on the [U of KY] campus or near at an Italian restaurant — snuck in leftover wine and had ravioli. Sure was good to bathe and sleep in an air-conditioned room.

Monday morning after breakfast downtown and some cursory hunting in record cut-out bins, we headed to the Esco Hankins Record Shop. Tennessean Hankins, a Roy Acuff-style singer, began his recording career in 1947. He settled in Lexington in 1949 and performed for years on WLAP with his wife Jackie and his band, which included Dobro player Buck Graves. He also performed weekly on The Kentucky Mountain Barn Dance, which started in Lexington in 1949 and was broadcast on WVLK. 

Jackie and Esco Hankins publicity photo, original date unknown.

Flatt & Scruggs joined the Kentucky Mountain Barn Dance cast that year, influencing both Graves – to whom Earl taught his right hand, three-finger roll – and young J.D. Crowe, who was a regular in the audience and often went with his dad to observe Scruggs rehearsing with Flatt for their radio shows at WVLK. In 1950, at age 13, inspired and informally tutored by Earl, J.D. got his first banjo and began practicing what he’d seen watching Earl in action.

Esco Hankins Record Shop, Lexington, KY, April 1972.

Hankins held amateur country music contests, and at one he discovered teenager Crowe, who soon became part of his band. Marty Godbey’s Crowe On The Banjo: The Music Life of J.D. Crowe (2011) is a fascinating biography that narrates in great detail much of the story I would hear in my interview with Crowe that day in 1972. Early on, Godbey quotes from one of her interviews with J.D.: “I played for him quite a bit, it was my first paying job.” 

Esco Hankins in his record shop in Lexington, KY, August 1972.

I knew nothing of Crowe’s connection with Hankins on that morning when we walked into Esco’s shop. We browsed, bought some records, and then got into a conversation with him about country music history. He generously gave me a number of old songbooks and then, when we mentioned our interest in interviewing Crowe, he phoned Lemco, the Lexington record company with whom Crowe had recently made three albums and several singles, to get J.D.’s number. My notes:

…he ended up calling first Lemco and then J.D. Crowe and then handing the phone over to me to talk with J.D. — I thought it was still Lemco and went into a long rap about my project and what I was doing and how I would appreciate if they could put me in touch with J.D. — and the voice said, “This is J.D.” and I was embarrassed but maybe it was a good thing…anyhow we made an appt. for 3:00…

Esco Hankins in his record shop in Lexington, KY, August 1972.

Today, Crowe is best remembered as the banjo picking leader of the progressive New South, whose 1975 Rounder 0044 album with Skaggs, Rice, Douglas and Slone has become a modern bluegrass icon. He also was, in 1980, a founding member of the bluegrass supergroup The Bluegrass Album band, playing solid, perfectly timed, and driving banjo based on the style of Earl Scruggs and singing the harmony parts he’d learned with Jimmy Martin. He died on Christmas Eve, 2021. 

When I interviewed him in 1972, he’d been living in Lexington, his birthplace, since returning in 1961 after a five-year stint with Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys. For the next seven years he’d worked day jobs (with a couple of brief stints back with Martin) while playing in local taverns with his group, The Kentucky Mountain Boys. 

In 1968 they began appearing six nights a week at the Red Slipper Lounge in the Lexington Holiday Inn. It was a change from his former blue-collar tavern milieu – lots of young college students in the crowds. This gig was going strong when Carl and I visited him.

The Holiday Inn, Lexington, KY, April 1972. Featured at the Red Slipper Lounge at the motel that night was J.D. Crowe and Kentucky Mountain Boys.
The Holiday Inn, Lexington, KY, April 1972. Featured at the Red Slipper Lounge at the hotel that night was J.D. Crowe and the Kentucky Mountain Boys. Left to right: Larry Rice, Bobby Slone, Tony Rice, J.D. Crowe, and Donnie Combs.

J.D. was now working full-time at his music. A number of notable musicians had worked for him in The Kentucky Mountain Boys, like Doyle Lawson and Red Allen. At this point, in 1972, his band consisted of Larry Rice, mandolin, Tony Rice, guitar, Donnie combs, drums, and Bobby Slone, bass. He had just changed the name of the group to the New South. 

I had first seen Crowe in April 1960 when I went to Wheeling, West Virginia, with a couple of college friends. A month earlier we had opened for the Osborne Brothers at Antioch College. Bobby Osborne had urged the audience to come see them at the Wheeling Jamboree at WWVA. We took him up on it at spring vacation.

We drove down from Ohio and took a cheap room in a hotel close to the Virginia theater where the Jamboree was held. That evening we saw the Osborne Brothers as expected, but just the two of them were there. Bobby played guitar and sang “Down The Road” while Sonny picked the five. Good music, but no band! We enjoyed some of the country acts like Rusty and Doug and the fiddling of Buddy Durham. But we weren’t expecting any more bluegrass when Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys were introduced. It was the most memorable moment of the evening for us.

The four-piece band – Jimmy Martin, Crowe, mandolinist Paul Williams, and fiddler Johnny Dacus – bounded up to the mic from backstage and opened with Crowe’s the up-the-neck single-string banjo intro to “Hold Whatcha Got,” Martin’s latest single. 

The audience, which included a bunch of young women seated up front who had cowbells and knew how to use them, went bananas. It was a tight band, thought by many to be Martin’s best, and we were very impressed. Crowe’s banjo break was amazing. It marked him as a unique stylist.

Thereafter, when talking with fellow banjo pickers, I identified this single-string work as “J.D. Crowe style.” The success of “Hold Whatcha Got” led Martin to record several more using the same rhythm and banjo break style. 

Following our experience in Wheeling, we began listening to Martin’s late Saturday night show, after the Jamboree, on WWVA. The live sound of new songs like “My Walking Shoes” – driving, up-tempo stuff with Crowe’s banjo out front – caught our ear. 

J.D. told Marty Godbey about watching Earl rehearse: “I was more interested in trying to learn the breaks to songs and backup than instrumentals.” His work on Martin’s Decca recordings was definitive; Martin’s banjoists were told to play it like J.D. 

He began to record on Lemco with the Kentucky Mountain Boys in 1969 when the band included Doyle Lawson and Red Allen. This was the most recent Crowe recording I’d heard at the time of our August 1972 interview. 

That afternoon Carl and I drove to his trailer park home. We set up my cassette recorder and mic, and I began the interview with a few ethnographic questions: “Let me ask you just some of the basic things, like how old you are and where you were born and so on.”

J.D. Crowe home, Lexington, KY, April 1972.

He was 34 and told of childhood with country music on a farm six miles outside of Lexington. Then he described how his musical calling emerged in the fall of 1949 after Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs came to town. 

I saw them in person before I ever heard their records. Cause, the first record I heard of them was one called “Down The Road.”

“Down The Road” was Lester and Earl’s newest record release in October 1949.

His family were regulars in the audience at the Kentucky Mountain Barn Dance. 

And I saw, they came here — fact, I never heard of ‘em!

They was there one night, and they was so well received that they was hired.

His first banjo was a 39-dollar Kay, but within a year he’d moved up to a Gibson. Scruggs was his informal mentor. At fifteen he was playing dances and at sixteen Jimmy Martin hired him after hearing him playing on the radio with Hankins. “Hankins?” I asked.

Yeah, I guess that was the first person I worked with professionally.

J.D. Crowe at home in Lexington, KY, August 1972, during a visit and interview with Neil V. Rosenberg (left).

After five years working full-time in Martin’s band – in Detroit, Shreveport, and Wheeling – J.D. quit. It was 1961, he was twenty-four.

I think I just, a, kindly got tired, I mean, you know, wanted to try something different. 

This was a phrase he used several times in the interview: I just wanted to try something a little different, he said later, speaking of the band he started. Moving back to Lexington, he got a day job, and formed The Kentucky Mountain Boys, who played five nights a week in local clubs until 1968. Then the Holiday Inn gig came along:

I give up my job and I’ve been doing it full-time ever since.

As a bandleader, he stressed the hard work involved in building a career:

…you know how the music goes, unsure, you know. Which anything is, really when you get down to it. It’s just what you want to make out of it, and how hard you want to work… And a, believe me, it’s, it’s rough. A lot of people, you know, think it’s a lot of, a bowl of cherries, you know, just have a good time, but it’s not like that.

“I suppose the picking is only the small part,” I said.

That’s just the smallest part of it, really.

J.D. explained how his full-time band operated – fall, winter, and spring they played six nights a week at the Holiday Inn. Then they took the summers off: 

Work road shows. 

He told me about his band members — mandolinist Larry Rice, his brother Tony, and Bobby Slone — and explained about the Rices’ California connection:

They were born in Danville, Virginia, but … they went to California when they were just little shavers and they lived out there I guess ten or twelve years in Los Angeles. And that’s where Larry came from, he was living there at the time… Bobby Slone, our bass player, he’s been with me I guess about six years. Well, he used to live in California also, and he had worked with them when they was growing up and so he told me about them. And of course, Tony I met after Larry joined me. He moved back to North Carolina and he came up. 

His band were all veterans of the late ’60s LA scene where folk-rock and country-rock had blended with bluegrass. That musical mindset had a kind of creative vision that Crowe could empathize with. 

I used to be, if it didn’t have a banjo in it, then I’d cut it off. But now, with the exception of rock and roll and blues. I’ve always liked it. I used to listen to blues, just all the time. I like the style of B.B. King, of course he’s still going, you know, and, a Fats Domino, Little Richard, you know … they was in the fifties. And there’s just a lot of ‘em, and of course the rock changed you know, course what they call country rock, which is good, I like that. In fact, we do quite a few numbers of that ourself.

I asked: “When you were leaving Jimmy Martin, were you thinking of putting some of that into your music?” He explained:

That wasn’t out yet … I didn’t have too much choice. You (could) only do country, do bluegrass, or you just do hard rock. But now there’s so much new stuff’s out that it’s just endless, to what you can do, and take over songs and adapt them over, your own little thing, in style.

You can take with what you had and combine it with a couple other forms of music and come up with a little different gimmick, a little different style. That’s the whole thing, that’s what you got to have. 

Perhaps the most novel aspect of the New South sound at this time was the fact that since the prior September – almost a year before – they had been playing electrified instruments.

I had the idea, you know a, maybe that might be the answer, because, like I say, like we couldn’t get any records played on country stations. 

The Osborne Brothers had gone electric in 1969; J.D. said their example had influenced him “a little bit.” Also in 1969, Earl Scruggs had begun playing an electrified banjo with his sons in the Earl Scruggs Revue. Jim & Jesse had done an electric album in 1971. I asked J.D. if he’d recorded with his electric group.

The latest single is. Course I use a steel and a piano and a drummer, the whole works on that. In fact I didn’t play too much banjo, on account, if there’s a lot of banjo, some things, they won’t even, some stations won’t play it.

At J.D. Crowe’s home in Lexington KY, August 1972, during a visit and interview with Neil V. Rosenberg (right) as reflected in a mirror that also caught photographer Carl Fleischhauer.

We’d just been at a festival; I wanted to know what he thought about festivals. Had they helped his music?

The festivals have helped to a certain extent. You know. Right now, they’re trying, they’re getting too many of them, in my opinion. Cause you can over do a good thing, you know and, which I know we worked some of ‘em that didn’t turn out so good … most of ‘em, though, we’ve worked this year have all been great big ones, I mean a lot of people. And I figure they will probably continue having that kind of a crowd. And I think that it’s, it’s helped.

“Is it a different kind of crowd than the country music crowd?” I asked.

A, not really, I’d say a people that go to bluegrass festivals would also go to see Porter Wagoner and Conway Twitty and Merle Haggard — Nashville, you know. They like it, course they like bluegrass too. A lot of your country people, you know, like other types. There’s — they like it, but they won’t come out to see it, you know, they don’t like it that good. They can take it or leave it, in other words. That’s what you got to get to, those people, the general public. You know, cause there’s a lot of people come to the festivals and — but you know if you figure, the population of the world and you know, don’t look, it’s not too good a’ odds, so…

An experienced observer of the ongoing bluegrass scene, J.D. was keenly involved in his music business. He spoke of recording studio dynamics, record company practices, broadcasting politics, fan magazine reviews, and other factors in running a band. 

At that point I turned off the recorder and asked if he would show me his electrified banjo. When I turned the recorder on again, he was giving me the history of his banjo, starting with the neck:

This, this is original here, this part as you can see was pieced from a tenor, you turn it over and it’s a great job — see, that’s been pieced.

(N:) Oh, yeah.

(J.D.:) From there up. They matched it perfect, see, you can tell, right there, it starts up on the neck, go right in there, or right here, you can see its smaller up the neck.

(N:) It’s a splendid job.

J.D. Crowe at home in Lexington KY, August 1972.

J.D. had seen a lot of old Gibson Mastertones over the years. He knew chapter and verse about wood types and design details. But I wanted to know about his electric setup. I knew nothing about electric instruments, which were anathema to the ’50s folk revival I’d grown up in. He spent some time showing and explaining the details of his still-experimental pickup system (Godbey describes it well, p. 110). Carl asked if he could take a picture, J.D. politely told him no.

He told me what it was like to be playing electric, with the strings closer to the fretboard (“low action”) than on an acoustic:

(N:) Can you do licks that you wouldn’t otherwise do?

(J.D.:) Yeah. You can do a lot of stuff that holds, you know, you can get a sustain. That’s what nice about it. 

Then he announced what he was hoping on for the future:

I’ve got a six-string ordered.

In 1970 Sonny Osborne had added a sixth bass string to his five-string; it was part of a lush sound – string sections, twin steels, etc. – on their latest recordings. J.D. liked the possibilities the added string would enable, especially because he, like Sonny, was playing an electrified instrument. He’d even had to cancel a contract for a bluegrass festival that didn’t allow electric instruments. He told them:

Hell no! We’re gonna play electric…. We played up here electric for nine month and [then] we played acoustical; I sounded like I was playing a two-dollar Kay. Cause your hearing gets accustomed to that volume. And it’d take me three or four months to get back on the acoustical route.

Our interview ended there. Afterward I evaluated it in my notes:

Interview with J.D. Crowe — nothing spectacular, your hr.’s worth of history, but attitudes and early learning gone into pretty carefully. Very friendly but reserved in a reassuring way. Carl busy snapping away.

J.D. Crowe at home in Lexington, KY, August 1972.

We left Lexington immediately, heading for Louisville, where we were to stay with friends of Carl’s. Consequently, I didn’t get a chance to see J.D. and his New South in action at the Red Slipper Lounge. 

In 1973, the electric edition of the New South recorded an album in Nashville for Starday. Titled J.D. Crowe and the New South, it was issued on CD in 1997 under the title Bluegrass Evolution. Crowe played his 6-string on two of its ten cuts. Here’s one, “You Can Have Her.”

The album wasn’t released until 1977, two years after they stopped playing electric. In 1975 when Larry Rice left the group, J.D’s new mandolin player, Ricky Skaggs, had insisted on “acoustical.” By then J.D.’s vision of “something a little different” was working just fine without the extra electricity; Rounder 0044 came soon after. 

The Holiday Inn, Lexington, KY, April 1972. The Red Slipper Lounge featured J.D. Crowe and Kentucky Mountain Boys; including Tony Rice (back to camera), Larry Rice (barely visible behind Tony Rice), J.D. Crowe, Bobby Slone (hidden), and Donnie Combs, drums.
The Holiday Inn, Lexington, KY, April 1972. J.D. Crowe and the Kentucky Mountain Boys; Tony Rice (back to camera), Larry Rice, J.D. Crowe, Bobby Slone (partly hidden), and Donnie Combs, drums.

That day I wished we’d taken the time to catch the band in action, but we had only five more days for our bluegrass field trip. Kentucky was just the start; our next planned stops would take us to Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. Recently, a recording of an evening at the Red Slipper was uploaded to YouTube. Here’s the 1972 sound of the electrified New South (with drums): 

Thanks to Tim Stafford and Carl Fleischhauer.

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg.

Edited by Justin Hiltner

Bluegrass Memoirs: ‘Industrial Strength Bluegrass’ and the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion (Part 4)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: Read part one of our series on the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion here. Read part two here. Read part three here.)

My series of memoirs on the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion closes with a gallery of snapshots taken during the day’s proceedings. I had a new Japanese automatic camera of the type then described as “point and shoot,” an Olympus Quick Shooter Zoom. 

I returned home with a 25-shot 35mm film roll and immediately sent it to a budget speed processing outfit in Seattle. The prints returned (along with a new roll of film and a mailer) a few weeks later. 

Unlike today, when you can monitor photos on your digital camera after every snap, in 1989 you had to wait for the prints to arrive to see what came out and what didn’t. Here’s what came out. 

I started outside the concert site, Memorial Hall, in the afternoon before the concert — sound checks were going on inside — taking care to get a close shot of the Hall’s sign on one of Dayton’s busiest streets. 

Inside the hall that day, the stage was being set. Working as a stagehand, I helped handle communications between director Don Baker and the evening’s performers. Moon Mullins and The Traditional Grass and the Osborne Brothers were parked outside in their own vehicles. I first visited Moon and the band in an RV with the name, “The Cabin,” on the door. He introduced me to the band members, including his son Joe. Then I visited the Osbornes. 

I hadn’t seen the Osborne Brothers since a Saturday night three years before when I was in Nashville to promote my new book, Bluegrass: A History. They’d invited me to be their guest backstage at the Grand Ole Opry, where Sonny brought me onstage, introduced me and spoke about the book — a very generous act. During the concert I asked a fellow backstage bystander to take our photo. Born in 1937, Sonny passed away last fall; he is sadly missed.

At about the same time I noticed Fred Bartenstein and Tom Teepen nearby and asked them to pose for me. They were important figures in the discovery and revival of Dayton’s bluegrass scene. Recently, I sent this photo to Fred (original editor of Muleskinner News) and asked him for a caption: 

National editorial correspondent Tom Teepen (1935-2017, left) wrote an evocative memoir in the concert program about his days as a Dayton bluegrass fan. Here he meets backstage with Fred Bartenstein, who helped plan and organize the event.

The rest of my photos were taken at the Canal Street Tavern after the concert.

The executive producer of the event, Phyllis Brzozowska ran CityFolk from the start until its end about ten years ago. Behind her on the left is Greg Allen of the Allen Brothers. The individual on the right was one of the crew that director Don Baker enlisted from his Lime Kiln Theater troupe to help backstage.

Doug Smith and his wife, Dayton Bluegrass Reunion researcher and writer Barb Kuhns (both members of The Corndrinkers, an old-time band still active today) posed with Don Baker, concert director and emcee. 

Harley Allen, a veteran star of several bands, had performed in the concert with his brothers. At the center of Canal Street’s evening’s activities, he’s seen here surrounded by friends. 

The peripatetic mandolin virtuoso, Frank Wakefield, then living in Saratoga Springs, New York, and working with a Cleveland-based bluegrass/swing outfit, was bouncing around the room. I’d first seen him in action onstage in 1962 (Bluegrass Generation, 124-25); he was still up to his onstage hijinks. 

Meeting Noah Crase was a special treat. I’d first heard his music in the late ’50s on an obscure 45 record by Dave Woolum. The evening’s program included a picture of him playing with Bill Monroe along with two men I’d played with in Indiana myself, Roger Smith and Vernon McQueen. We swapped Blue Grass Boys stories.

Another special treat. I first ran across Porter Church’s recordings on Red Allen’s County LPs from the mid-’60s. He was well-known in the D.C./Baltimore area, but I didn’t get a chance to see him in action until the Reunion.

The Sacred Sounds of Grass (Norbert Dengler, guitar; Sam Hain, mandolin; Thilo Hain, banjo; Alfred Bonk, bass)

I didn’t take notes about my snapshots — all that remained in my memory of this group was that these young men were from Germany, played bluegrass gospel, and were on their first American tour. I sent a copy to Mark Stoffel, mandolin player with Chris Jones and the Night Drivers, who’s from Germany. He told me he “knew them well,” and sent the band’s name and contact information.

I wrote to banjoist Thilo Hain and asked him to describe the circumstances that brought the band to Dayton that evening, and their experiences at the concert and the reception. He explained:

In 1988 his brother Sam Hain saw an ad in New York instrument dealer Harry West‘s sales list for a 1922 Gibson Lloyd Loar once owned by Pee Wee Lambert and now owned by Frank Wakefield. Sam, interested, “rang Frank Wakefield up to ask him more details about this instrument.” Wakefield told Sam, “Better get that mandolin, before anybody else gets it.” 

Sam then asked Frank if he was planning a reunion with Red Allen and his band. Wakefield told him about the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion scheduled for April 1989. Thilo remembered, “Frank finished with the words, ‘You better be there!'”

Sam missed out on getting the mandolin, but the band was there in Dayton for the concert. Red Allen arranged for their free admittance and took them backstage to “a meet and greet with all the musicians,” and suggested they perform at Canal Street. “Dee Sparks,” said Thilo, “was so kind to let Alfred play his bass for the show. Throughout our first U.S. tour we earned so many friendly comments, felt heartwarming hospitality from all the great musicians we visited at their homes and went back to Germany with a huge bag full of new impressions and experiences.”

A Google translation of the band’s history on their Facebook page reads: “Sacred Sounds Of Grass is the oldest active Bluegrass Band in Germany, founded in 1979. With their classic Bluegrass Sound the group is also considered the most authentic bluegrass band outside of the USA.”

Thirty-two years after their Canal Street Tavern performance, the same band lineup appears in a photo, also posted at their Facebook page, of them performing in a church in Adelberg, Germany this past August. Here’s a recording from a 2019 festival. 

Wild & Blue (below) was mandolinist and fiddler David Harvey’s new band, formed November 1988. On this night, when they came onto the Canal Street stage, David had already played with the Allen Brothers. Born 1958 in Dayton and son of famous mandolin player Dorsey Harvey (1935-1988; see Industrial Strength Bluegrass pp. 150, 183), he’d grown up in Parkside, a postwar housing development, together with Red Allen‘s four sons as neighbors. Their fathers both played in bluegrass bands — they all learned at home, jamming together after school as teens. By summer 1972 David was playing festivals with Red Allen.

In 1974, at 17, Harvey dropped out of high school to help support the family as a professional musician, joining the Falls City Ramblers. Parkside was a decaying, crime-ridden, rustbelt housing project; David saw music as a way to a better life. 

A Louisville-based band that played a lot in Southwest Ohio, the Ramblers were local favorites with the same crowds who listened to the Hotmud Family’s eclectic blend of bluegrass, old-time, blues and early county. The chapter “Beck Gentry” in Murphy Hicks Henry’s Pretty Good for a Girl: Women In Bluegrass (pp. 186-191) gives a good history of the band. David was with them, playing fiddle and mandolin, for five years. In 1977 Kentucky Educational Television aired one of their shows:

In 1979 Harvey moved to Colorado Springs, where his musical career continued in a group called The Reasonable Band. He entered and won several mandolin contests, establishing an enduring reputation for his skill and creativity. He also began working as a luthier.

He moved to Indianapolis in 1983 and for the next four and a half years he played on the road and recorded with Larry Sparks. His career as a luthier grew. In 1986 he met Jan Snider, who, with her younger sister Jill, had been playing bluegrass. Jan and David soon wed. 

Wild & Blue brought lead singer Jan’s voice to the forefront, solo and in duets with Jill’s high harmonies. They began around the same time as a number of other bluegrass bands with female lead singers were coming on the scene like Alison Krauss, Lynn Morris, and Laurie Lewis. The band had a lot of energy, with David’s suave mandolin work and its female-dominated trios. They won the band contest at SPBGMA 1992 and moved to Nashville in 1995. By then they’d recorded albums for Vetco and Pinecastle. Wild & Blue lasted until 1999.

Harvey then worked with Larry Cordle (1999-2001), Claire Lynch (2002-07), and Harley Allen (2008-11). Meanwhile his luthier work in Nashville blossomed. He joined Gibson in 2004 and today as Master Luthier heads Gibson’s Original Acoustic Instruments division. Here’s a video (above) in which Dave introduces one of the mandolins he’s building and illustrates it with a tune he co-wrote with his dad, “Cruising Timber.”

As a small boy Harvey had watched and listened to his father and Frank Wakefield as they wrung out mandolin ideas at his home. He clearly enjoyed himself with Frank this evening.

I had watched the evening’s afterparty at Canal Street with old friends from Lexington, Kentucky: the late Marty Godbey, author of Crowe On The Banjo: The Musical Life of J.D. Crowe. Next to her, husband, writer, photographer and musician Frank Godbey, creator of two influential bluegrass digital lists, BGRASS-L and IBMA-L. Next to Frank is Tom Adler, folklorist, banjoist and author of Bean Blossom: The Brown County Jamboree and Bill Monroe’s Bluegrass Festivals. And that’s my hat on the table.

(Editor’s Note: Read part one of our series on the Dayton Bluegrass Reunion here. Read part two here. Read part three here.)

Neil V. Rosenberg would like to thank: Fred Bartenstein, Phyllis Brzozowska, Nancy Cardwell, Frank Godbey, Thilo Hain, David Hedrick, and Mark Stoffel.

Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Neil V. Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg, all other photos by Neil V. Rosenberg. 

Edited by Justin Hiltner