David Grier, “Waiting on Daddy’s Money”

The initial A and B parts of virtuosic flatpicker David Grier’s “Waiting on Daddy’s Money” will strike your ear as timeless. It’s a subtly haunting and awry melody that conjures many of bluegrass and old-time’s iconic fiddle tunes. But, as soon as the first form is complete, Grier’s countless embellishments and reiterations of that melody demonstrate that this is no play-the-same-tune-for-half-an-hour-in-unison old-time revelry. Instead, this is an artistic study, a series of complicated opuses revisiting and revising the tune into a truly original, nearly inimitable six-string soliloquy.

What’s remarkable though, through that artistry — that ebbs and flows from simplistic, familiar staple licks to utterly singular, mind-boggling musical acrobatics — is that the tune, and Grier’s cyclical interpretations of it, are never at any point esoteric or inaccessible to the listener’s ear. Somewhat counterintuitively, it effortlessly holds onto that classic fiddle tune vibe. Grier himself refers to these interpretations as “mutations,” though that descriptor belies the decades upon decades of learned, practiced nuance and ease that make each reharmonization, key change, chord inversion, syncopated rhythm, and string sweep a boon to the song, rather than self-aggrandizing distractions.

Above all else, “Waiting on Daddy’s Money” — and the entire album, Ways of the World — demonstrates that Grier is an unimpeachably superlative guitarist with a one-of-a-kind musical voice that not only draws on his history growing up with bluegrass, but also consciously and magnificently blazes an impeccably fresh trail that no other picker has yet to even attempt to trod.


Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

Ashley Campbell, ‘Carl & Ashley’s Breakdown’

Bluegrass music has a lot of rules — spoken, unspoken, inferred, implied. These rules can make the genre a veritable minefield to tiptoe through as an artist or creator inspired by it. For singer/songwriter and banjoist Ashley Campbell, the expectations must be even more intense, with a father as beloved and critically acclaimed as Glen Campbell and a godfather, Carl Jackson, who is a bluegrass, country, songwriting, pickin’ legend unto himself.

The beauty of “Carl & Ashley’s Breakdown,” the sole instrumental on Campbell’s forthcoming debut album, The Lonely One, is that it subverts all of these rules and expectations, all at once. For a tune described as a “breakdown,” the tempo lays back, letting the picking shine for its precision, rather than just speed and freneticism. Intermittently, when the rhythm is broken down for another jammy solo, we get the wordplay in the title. Whether she’s referencing licks directly from Earl Scruggs or melodic ideas that remind of Béla Fleck’s iconic albums Drive and The Bluegrass Sessions: Tales from the Acoustic Planet, the banjo is central here, purposefully driving the band forward. There are flavors of country & western, new acoustic instrumentals, Tony Trischka-esque melodic picking, and just a dash of wonky, gritty funk. On a record mostly populated by manicured, crisp, pop-influenced country songs, “Carl & Ashley’s Breakdown” is Campbell’s subtle nod to the fact that not only does she know bluegrass rules, she knows just how to break them.

I’m With Her, ‘Waitsfield’

If only there were someone giving out nickels for every time the term “supergroup” is used. We’d all be rich. It’s not an altogether uncommon designation, as perhaps it ought to be, especially in bluegrass and its nearest offshoot genres, where virtuosity and technical prowess aren’t luxuries, but commodities. Nearly every outfit could ostensibly be labeled a “supergroup.” Even more so after each member’s bio and qualifications have been flamboyantly posited. But here, in this Tunesday, you can trust that “supergroup” won’t be bandied about.

I’m With Her (aka Sarah Jarosz + Aoife O’Donovan + Sara Watkins) — is a supergroup. The artistry, ease, precision, and personality of their just-released debut album, See You Around, corroborates this claim through each and every track, but the legitimacy of the moniker is cemented with the record’s lone instrumental, “Waitsfield.” These three women are all inimitable songwriters and vocalists, so they certainly didn’t need to include a tune … but they did … for the benefit of all of us. “Waitsfield” is rollicking and playful, a whimsical mandolin/fiddle dialogue that lopes and waltzes and dashes about. It doesn’t need to be a shred-fest to illustrate, undeniably, that not a single I’m With Her-er has relinquished any of her bluegrass chops — even while they each delve into sonic territories far from their respective starting points. The charm of the song isn’t shadowed by its frenetic energy; it’s enhanced — especially at the end, when they each breathe a sigh of relief, chuckle, and exclaim, “We made it!” We knew they would. They’re a supergroup.

Sam Reider, ‘Valley of the Giants’

Accordionist, pianist, and composer Sam Reider was inspired by wandering through the surreal landscape of Valle de los Gigantes in Baja California, Mexico. The park is named for the gargantuan cardón cactus, a species that resembles saguaros of the U.S., but grows larger and taller and can live longer than 300 years. It might seem that the Sonoran desert — dotted by enormous, otherworldly plants — would evoke meditative, minimal, dreamy sounds — a musical reflection of desolation and austere beauty — but “Valley of the Giants,” off Reider’s debut album, Too Hot to Sleep, is anything but.

It’s rollicking and frenetic, lilting and energetic — more like the Wild West, replete with stampedes and tumbleweeds, than a silent, spiritual desert. The album’s roster of savvy pickers (Dominick Leslie on mandolin; Alex Hargreaves on fiddle; Roy Williams and Grant Gordy on guitars; David Speranza on bass; and Eddie Barbash on saxophone) pull from their overarching bluegrass expertise to drive the tune forward at a pace just shy of breakneck, galloping-horse-chase soundtrack speeds. Dashes of folk influences from around the world are sprinkled into its string band aesthetic like melodic Easter eggs. Reider’s accordion is the unyielding anchor, giving a dose of soulful, raw timelessness, but with a modern crispness and confidence. Somehow, it simultaneously conjures arid Baja and transatlantic scenes in an Irish pub or the countryside in France. It’s like a mini-vacation, wrapped up tidily within an instrumental.

Tommy Emmanuel, ‘Windy and Warm’

Guitar players are a competitive lot. You may be imagining your local music store filled with the sound of budding guitarists trying to impress their friends — and you and everyone else — with their cover of [enter one iconic “Blackbird” or “Stairway to Heaven”-like tune here]. Or you may be remembering those workshops you’ve attended where an audience member asks a “question” that’s a pointed answer to another audience member’s previous question … after the instructors already gave their advice. Or perhaps you’re having a flashback to that time a picker approached you and asked what make and model of guitar you play, but in that special way that is already judging you for your gear choices before even hearing your answer.

Our Artist of the Month, Tommy Emmanuel, is truly a guitar player’s guitar player. His audiences include some of the most dedicated, diehard, fanatical fans of the instrument. But you’ll never find him falling into the my-horse-is-bigger-than-your-horse routine; he even gives away his trade “secrets” freely in lessons and at workshops and camps. On his latest album, Accomplice One, he shares the limelight with collaborators and living legends, giving equal footing to and creating a solid foundation for each. It’s refreshing to watch someone with an undeniable, world-class talent direct focus to those he admires, rather than himself.

In this video of “Windy and Warm,” he does just that, paying tribute to Chet Atkins, who has inspired and influenced his playing since the very beginning. You can hear the awe and appreciation in every note. And there isn’t a single competitive pick stroke.