Bluegrass is Trance (And Old-Time, Too)

Bluegrass is trance. Old-time, too. 

With a slightly more zoomed out perspective, this fact comes into focus pretty quickly. American roots music and its precursors, especially their string band forms, have been interwoven with dance for eons. Before the advent of recorded music, when the popular musics of the day could often only be consumed by upper classes, dancing and other social group activities were the center places music inhabited. Before radio shaved popular music down into bite-sized, three-minute chunks, the tunes would last as long as necessary to provide a backdrop for a reel, a hornpipe, or a square dance, extending fiddle tunes into ten- to twenty-minute, cyclical, musical meditations. “Turkey in the Straw” as mantra, “Chicken Reel” as a slightly wonky, onomatopoeic sound bed.

Detached from dance, it’s easy to forget that string band music has been designed with trance embedded within its structures. Chris Pandolfi is a banjo player who’s explored quite a bit in trance and trance-adjacent music with the Infamous Stringdusters, a seminal jamgrass band with a level of bluegrass’s technical virtuosity that’s unmatched in all but a select few ensembles in a similar vein. Pandolfi’s new record, Trance Banjo, which was released under his solo stage name, Trad Plus, moves further and further beyond American roots aesthetics, cementing the banjo and its musical vernacular within trance – the electronica variety as well as the age-old, human kind.

Trance Banjo, and tracks such as “Wallfacer” — whose trippy visualizer music video almost cements this article’s central argument — recalls albums by Scott Vestal, or live shows by post-metal shredders like Billy Strings, or experimental, avant garde compositions by cattywompus flattop mashers like Stash Wyslouch. It’s not just a simple coincidence that so many players from bluegrass and old-time backgrounds find themselves dabbling with trance.

John Mailander, a fiddler who’s toured with Molly Tuttle and Bruce Hornsby and has been hired as a side-musician with many a jamgrass-leaning band, is comfortably uncomfortable in a very similar musical realm as Trance Banjo. On an EP of sketches and improvisations released last summer (from the same sessions and experimentations that became his upcoming album, Forecast) Mailander and his bluegrass-veteran backing band play with trance centered on sparseness, vacancy, and negative space in a way that’s engaging and baffling, both. Mailander’s rubric of vulnerable, emotive, and transparent expression as a foundation for improv is key here.

That personal touch, the personality endemic in these trance experimentations, is certainly what makes them most compelling and it must be, at least in part, what ties these songs to the centuries-old tradition of music as meditation. Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi make more than just a musical brand of showcasing their personalities and identities in the music they create, it’s more like a mission statement. Giddens has an incredible aptitude for writing and composing music based on empathy and human connection and Turrisi holds expansive knowledge of world folk music and percussion.

Their compositions and collaborations illustrate that, when we connect our music to dance, percussion, and trance, we’re connecting it to thousands and thousands of years of history — of humans of all ethnicities, cultures, backgrounds, and identities, gathering, connecting, sharing, and loving through music, dance, and trance. On stage, Turrisi and Giddens deliberately connect these dots as well, utilizing stage banter to educate their audiences about these exact connections.

While old-time has held onto its penchant for movement and choreography through the generations, bluegrass continues to grow distant from this and many of the other cultural phenomena that gave rise to it. Trance Banjo, and projects like it, while they seem to gleefully run away from what we perceive as “traditional” aspects of these genres, are in many ways guiding us right back to the very folkways that birthed them. 


Photo credit: Chris Pandolfi by Chris Pandolfi

BGS 5+5: Chris Pandolfi

Artist: Chris Pandolfi
Hometown: Golden, Colorado
Latest Album: Trance Banjo
Personal nicknames: Panda

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

From one perspective, this is a really tough question for me because there are many sides to my music, and many influences that have factored in really heavily at different periods. But from another perspective, it’s easy. I wouldn’t be playing the banjo if it wasn’t for Béla Fleck. I discovered the Flecktones in high school and was just blown away in every possible way. It was a moment of pure inspiration, and after a handful of shows all I wanted to do was learn how to play the banjo. That was the start of my journey as a musician, and none of that happens had I not discovered Béla’s music.

But his influence doesn’t end there. He’s a legendary improviser on the instrument, and that’s a big part of what the Stringdusters do. But maybe even more importantly, he’s made his mark by recontextualizing the banjo, combining it with so many eclectic sounds and bringing it to many new genres. That’s a big goal of mine as well, and that’s very much inspired by Béla. He didn’t leave too much undiscovered territory! But the bigger your imagination, the more territory there is to explore, and I love that challenge.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I have many great memories of being on stage, but the night that we played in Covington, Kentucky, in the summer of 2019 stands out. It was an electric show, and the moment we walked off stage we all sort of simultaneously decided that we had just made a live album. That has only happened a handful of times in our career, even though we have had many gratifying shows. But this was one of those stand out nights where something connected on a deeper level. It seemed like everything we did just hit the crowd with maximum power, and then they were feeding us with so much energy and emotion. That’s what can happen at a show. It can happen any night, even when a venue is not packed out, and that possibility is one of the great thrills of this career. On a night like that, everyone there is an equal participant in the performance. There’s no divide between the performers and the crowd, and the possibilities are endless.

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

I get inspiration from a lot of places, but books and visual art are high on that list. I love artists and writers who surprise you. It may not inspire a specific melody or song, but it definitely stokes the idea inside me that anything is possible, and with imagination and creativity you can always find new paths to travel. Lately, I have really enjoyed the work of Clyfford Still. Still was an American, abstract painter whos work is bold and stunning. There’s a beautiful museum dedicated to his work here in Denver, and it turned me into a big fan.

I also love reading science fiction, mainly because the imagination factor of good sci-fi is off the charts. I read a trilogy of books in recent years called The Three Body Problem by a Chinese author named Cixin Liu that blew my mind. The story is gripping and endlessly creative. Two song titles on my new record, Trance Banjo, are references to that trilogy, both from the second book, Dark Forest, which is my favorite. Great art of any kind transports you to a place that feels very free, where there’s no strong sense of self. I get a lot of inspiration from that feeling.

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

Playing music is one challenge, but performing is a whole other hill to climb. When I am getting ready to play live or record, I always try to spend some time with my instrument (15-45 minutes or so) playing really mindfully and getting in the zone. That zone of being deeply focused on the music has seemed like a mystery at points in my career, and will forever be elusive in some way. But there is also something methodical about it, and that’s where practice comes in. When I practice I spend some time focusing on more mechanical elements, a new technique, transcribing or that sort of thing. But ultimately, I want to devote a good chunk of every practice session to building that zone. A good practice session should be like a meditation. The more time you can log in that focused zone, the more you know what it feels like and the easier it will be to conjure up in a performance setting. It’s a lifelong journey, and it certainly keeps you humble! But it’s not magic, it just takes practice.

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

I think my most consistent goal is to sound like myself as a player, and craft music that is unique as a producer. Bluegrass is the banjo’s native territory, and a common goal among proficient bluegrass players is to study and copy the styles of the early masters. For banjo players, that’s Earl Scruggs, and I would give anything to sound like Earl! There is so much great knowledge there, and so much expression as well. It’s a bedrock element of the instrument that practically every great player has a deep knowledge of.

While I have spent much time working on the fundamentals of Earl’s style, that is more of a starting point for me, and not an end-game. There are times on stage when I really try to emulate that older sound. But when it comes to crafting my own style and my own music, I try to use those old school bluegrass rudiments — timing, power, tone — but then add my own voice as well. The same goes for producing. It’s all about identifying and connecting with sounds that move you, and then using your imagination to grow from there and utilize those tools to bring your own vision to life.


Photo credit: Chris Pandolfi