New Exhibit, “Jerry Garcia: A Bluegrass Journey,” Opens at Bluegrass Hall of Fame

Although it will be showcased for the next two years, the recent grand opening celebration of the “Jerry Garcia: A Bluegrass Journey” exhibition at the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum will go down as not only a monumental gathering of musical legends, but also an unforgettable moment in time for all involved.

“This exhibit is coinciding at a great moment for bluegrass,” says Carly Smith, museum curator. “[Jerry] funneled so many people to [bluegrass]. And a lot of present day artists — Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle — are incorporating Jerry’s style into what they’re playing.”

Located in downtown Owensboro, Kentucky, along the mighty Ohio River, the Bluegrass Hall of Fame has created an incredibly impressive and intricate ode to Garcia and his undying love of the “high, lonesome sound,” demonstrating how his indelible fingerprint on the genre is still clearly visible in this current high-water mark moment for bluegrass.

Known as one of the finest electric guitarists to ever pick up the six-string instrument, Garcia, who passed in 1995, is eternally known as the de facto leader and musical zeitgeist at the helm of the Grateful Dead. And yet, the foundation of Garcia’s playing and skillset lies in American roots music — folk, blues, and bluegrass.

Photo by Chris Stegner, courtesy of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum.

The exhibit weaves through Garcia’s early years as a folk musician in the 1950s, his lifelong friendship with musician/lyricist Robert Hunter, his time in a slew of acoustic outfits in the 1960s – including Mother McCree’s Uptown Jug Champions (an early footprint of the Dead) – as well as a keen focus on Garcia’s work in Old & In the Way and New Riders of the Purple Sage.

“I cried through the entire [opening weekend] press conference,” Cliff Seltzer, the exhibit’s creative director, says in a humbled tone. “I’ve been trying to keep my composure for this weekend because it’s overwhelming.”

For Seltzer, the journey to the opening weekend has been five years in the making. A well-known former artist manager, Seltzer was touring the museum in 2019 with one of his friends and clients, Vince Herman of Leftover Salmon. With curator Smith guiding the duo through the building, the group started kicking around ideas for what to put in a then-empty gallery portion of the second floor.

Photo by Chris Stegner, courtesy of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum.

“We’ve always talked about a Jerry Garcia exhibit, and it just kind of snowballed from there,” Smith says. “And it was very unexpected how open Jerry’s family was with [helping] us. What I’ve learned over the last two years, really working with them, is that bluegrass was part of [Jerry] — that’s what he was doing when he wasn’t on the road, that’s what he did at home.”

For the better part of the last half-decade, Smith, Seltzer and a small crew of folks roamed America, not only in search of Garcia artifacts to display (instruments, photographs, family heirlooms), but also numerous interviews with some of the biggest names in bluegrass to share in the exhibit — each talking at-length about Garcia’s cosmic lore, larger-than-life legends, and lasting legacy.

“Every genre of music has to morph and change. New people enter the fold and introduce new things,” Seltzer said. “With Billy [Strings], Molly Tuttle, Sierra Ferrell, and others, bluegrass is bigger [now] than it’s ever been — it’s only going to continue to grow.”

David Nelson joined by Sam Grisman, Ronnie McCoury, and Jason Carter on stage at the Bluegrass Hall of Fame. Photo by Emma McCoury.

Way before the Dead — before any of the melodic chaos and intrinsic beauty of what that band created onstage any given night for its 30-year tenure — there was Garcia himself, simply a huge bluegrass freak who, perhaps someday, would become a member of Bill Monroe & The Blue Grass Boys.

And although Garcia would eventually swerve into the electric sounds of rock and roll and blues, he was never too far from bluegrass. There were always side projects and low-key jam sessions with a bevy of acoustic musicians throughout the early years of the Dead in the 1960s and 1970s.

Most notable of those collaborations was with mandolin virtuoso David Grisman. Through Grisman, Garcia met guitarist Peter Rowan in 1972. A former member of Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys, Rowan found a kindred spirit — in sound and in attitude — with Garcia. The kismet trio would jam often at Garcia’s Stinson Beach, California, home, with Garcia plucking his trusty banjo.

“We started picking every night after supper [at Jerry’s],” Rowan says. “We went through old song books and learned a bunch of material. I remember singing ‘Land of the Navajo’ and looking at Jerry like, ‘This is really weird, isn’t it?’ He goes, ‘Keep going, man.’”

Peter Rowan speaks as Heaven McCoury looks on during the exhibition opening weekend festivities. Photo by Chris Stegner.

What was birthed from those happenstance pickin’ and grinnin’ sessions became bluegrass super group Old & In the Way. Like a shooting star in the tranquil night sky, the band — featuring Garcia, Rowan, Grisman, bassist John Kahn, and a revolving cast of fiddlers (Richard Greene, John Hartford, Vassar Clements) — would only last the better part of two years (1973-1974).

But, in it remains one of the most important and groundbreaking acts to ever emerge in the bluegrass scene. To note, Old & In the Way’s 1975 self-titled debut album went on to become the bestselling bluegrass album of all-time – until it was dethroned by the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack released in 2000.

Maria Muldaur performs. Photo by Chris Stegner.

Alongside an onslaught of beautifully touching performances (Leftover Salmon, Maria Muldaur, Jim Lauderdale, Kyle Tuttle, Peter Rowan, Ronnie McCoury, Sam Grisman Project) and poignant gatherings of artists and music lovers throughout the “Jerry Garcia: A Bluegrass Journey” opening weekend, there were also several panels taking place each day at the museum.

Of which, “Garcia: Legend & Lore of a Bluegrass Freak” featured Peter Rowan (Old & In the Way), David Nelson (New Riders of the Purple Sage), Pete Wernick (Hot Rize), Sam Grisman (son of David Grisman) and Eric Thompson (Mother McCree’s Uptown Jug Champions).

“Old & In the Way really helped everything get bigger,” Wernick says. “It was this whole group of material that means so much to all of us in the bluegrass scene — it suddenly became something that people all over the world knew about.”

Greg Garrison, Ronnie McCoury, Eric Thompson, and Jason Carter perform. Photo by Chris Stegner.

Below are a few excerpts for that artist panel conversation:

Eric Thompson: I grew up in Palo Alto, California, kind of the nexus point for the folk world in the early ’60s. Joan Baez was from there. The Kingston Trio was from there. I got into the bluegrass guitar in [1961]. [Jerry] ended up there after he got thrown out of the Army. He got into all kinds of folk music and he would just devour a style. [He’d say], “Oh, I’m going to do that,” then two weeks later he’s got a whole repertoire. I was 15 years old and made friends with Jerry right away — it changed my life.

David Nelson: We’d go down to Kepler’s bookstore, which is an old hangout in Palo Alto. There was a section of it where you could get an espresso, sit down at a picnic table, and read a book. And there’s this guy [there]. It’s summer, so he’s got his shirt open and [big] hair. And he’s playing a 12-string guitar. Somebody comes up and says, “That’s Jerry Garcia.” We went over and pitched the idea [of jamming together]. Sure enough, next Tuesday night, we’re waiting and waiting. Then, all of a sudden, here comes the car and there’s Jerry coming up the stairs with a guitar and some friends. It started off a whole [jamming] thing at the Boar’s Head [Tavern], which just went on for months and years maybe. [Jerry] was interested in bluegrass banjo and I was interested in bluegrass guitar. I got me a banjo. Jerry said, “Oh, man, borrow my guitar. Can I borrow this banjo?” He happened to have a 1940 Martin D-18 [guitar].

The Sam Grisman Project – featuring Victor Furtado, Logan Ledger, and more – take a bow. Photo by Emma McCoury.

Thompson: [Jerry] brought some openness to the approach [of bluegrass music]. I know [so] many people, who are mostly not bluegrass musicians, who found out about [bluegrass] because of Old & In the Way. It was open and expressive and, at the same time, paid respect to what came before. It was this new, intelligent thing. And intelligence is what Garcia brought to the music, [as well as] imagination, articulation.

Vince Herman and Jim Lauderdale harmonize. Photo by Chris Stegner.

Get more information on “Jerry Garcia: A Bluegrass Journey” and plan your visit to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum here.


Photo Credit: All photos by Chris Stegner and Emma McCoury, as indicated. Courtesy of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Ben Sollee, Sideline, and More

This week, BGS readers were graced by two special, Valentine’s Day-themed premieres from jamgrass supergroup The High Hawks and singer-songwriter Caroline Cotter. Plus, our old friend, Kentucky-based cellist Ben Sollee, brought us a gorgeous new performance video of a John Prine cover shot surrounded by verdant houseplants.

Below, catch up on that new music you might have missed from earlier in the week and discover brand new, exclusive premieres from bluegrass group Sideline and indie/Americana duo the Ballroom Thieves. It’s all right here on BGS and… You Gotta Hear This!

Sideline, “The Lives of the Innocent”

Artist: Sideline
Hometown: Raleigh, North Carolina
Song: “The Lives of the Innocent”
Release Date: February 16, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “It was great getting back in the studio after over two years. There was a lot of bottled-up magic that came bursting out when we hit the first downbeat. This song fit the very definition of what Sideline is as a sound and the energy we project. It certainly enters the catalog as a blood-pumping, foot stomping, Sideline hit for the ages.” – Skip Cherryholmes, guitar

“‘The Lives of the Innocent’ was a song that was inspired by the Hibriten Guards during the Civil War that mustered in Alexander County, North Carolina. They saw heavy combat during the war, suffering a high casualty rate, and this tune chronicles what potentially could have been one of the soldiers in those ranks. Steve [Dilling] and the guys bumped the tempo a little and captured the essence of the song and the singing is just top-notch!” – Shannon Slaughter, songwriter

Track Credits:
Skip Cherryholmes – Guitar
Steve Dilling – Banjo, harmony vocal
Matt Flake – Fiddle
Nick Goad – Mandolin, harmony vocal
Kyle Windbeck – Bass
Bailey Coe – Lead vocal


The Ballroom Thieves, “Tender”

Artist: The Ballroom Thieves
Hometown: Easton, Massachusetts
Song: “Tender”
Album: Sundust
Release Date: April 12, 2024
Label: Nettwerk Music Group

In Their Words: “We were listening to the band Watchhouse at Newport Folk Festival in 2022 and their sparse instrumentation and fluid melodies inspired us to start writing ‘Tender’ right on the spot. We learn a lot from our peers, and in this case, the lesson was about the importance of creating space for your songs to breathe so you can hear what’s happening between the notes.” – The Ballroom Thieves


Ben Sollee, “Only Love” (John Prine Cover)

Artist: Ben Sollee
Hometown: Louisville, Kentucky
Song: “Only Love”
Release Date: February 13, 2023

In Their Words: “John Prine had a knack for folding mantras in to his songs. This song has a message that resonates deeply with my journey as a creative, father, and husband [and] that is so needed in this fitful world. ‘When love comes your way, you learn to say, I love you!’” – Ben Sollee

More here.


The High Hawks, “This Is What Love Feels Like”

Artist: The High Hawks
Hometown: Boulder, Colorado and All Points Between, USA
Song: “This Is What Love Feels Like”
Album: Mother Nature’s Show
Release Date: February 16, 2024

In Their Words: “This song sits in a slightly different world than the rest of The High Hawks’ new record. It’s a step into the mind of a hopeless romantic at a show, waiting for the band to come on with his love by his side. Sometimes the world just seems to conspire to make everything just right. This is about one of those nights. The song came out of a co-write with Chris Gelbuda, Shawn Camp, and myself one Nashville summer afternoon. I’m glad it found a home with The High Hawks!” — Vince Herman

More here.


Caroline Cotter, “Do You Love Me?”

Artist: Caroline Cotter
Hometown: from Providence, Rhode Island; currently living in Ellsworth, Maine
Song: “Do You Love Me?”
Album: Gently As I Go
Release Date: August 18, 2023

In Their Words: “‘Do You Love Me?’ is a love song, short and sweet and perhaps a bit tongueincheek, echoing desperate and anxious attempts from a hopeless romantic to their new love (and the universe) to get some certainty in very uncertain territory. This anxiety and excitement come together in a fun little package, trading places depending on the day or the moment, and sometimes it’s best to laugh at the silliness of it all, and realize that attempts to know or pretend to know by reading the signs are likely futile, but if nothing else, they’re fun to sing about. I love how Fernando’s illustrations in the video bring out the whimsy, playfulness, and sweetness of the lyrics.” – Caroline Cotter

More here.


Photo Credit: The Ballroom Thieves by Meredith Brockington; Ben Sollee by Jessica Ebelhar.

LISTEN: The High Hawks, “This Is What Love Feels Like”

Artist: The High Hawks
Hometown: Boulder, Colorado and All Points Between, USA
Song: “This Is What Love Feels Like”
Album: Mother Nature’s Show
Release Date: February 16, 2024
Label: LoHi Records

In Their Words: “This song sits in a slightly different world than the rest of The High Hawks’ new record. It’s a step into the mind of a hopeless romantic at a show, waiting for the band to come on with his love by his side. Sometimes the world just seems to conspire to make everything just right. This is about one of those nights. The song came out of a co-write with Chris Gelbuda, Shawn Camp, and myself one Nashville summer afternoon. I’m glad it found a home with The High Hawks!” — Vince Herman

Track Credits: Written by Vince Herman, Shawn Camp, Chris Gelbuda

Vince Herman – lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Adam Greuel – background vocals, acoustic guitar
Tim Carbone – fiddle
Chad Staehly – piano, mellotron
Brian Adams – bass guitar
Will Trask – percussion


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

Banjo Player Kyle Tuttle Reflects on Personal Growth and ‘Labor of Lust’

One of the most talented and sought after banjo players in bluegrass, Kyle Tuttle’s life has been full of the highest of highs and lowest of lows in recent years, from a marriage and divorce to the surprise death of close friend and bandmate Jeff Austin to the loss of his job due to COVID and finally hitting the road as a member of Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway.

All of that and more are documented on Labor of Lust (out February 16), an 11-song expedition taking listeners on a deeply personal and sonically diverse journey of tragedy and triumph. Recorded across three separate sessions in Nashville dating back to 2018, the record also documents a significant chunk of Tuttle’s life that, despite the length of time and changes that come with it, aren’t lacking a central theme. This led him to describing the project as “a long work-in-progress,” due to how its focus shifted throughout the more than five years of bringing it to life.

“By the time it was all said and done, this was a pretty eclectic group of songs,” Tuttle tells BGS. “There’s some stuff with an electric band that includes drums and me on electric banjo, others with traditional string band arrangements and some that meet in the middle for a more jamgrass sound.”

One of the songs that bridge the gap between these two worlds of bluegrass is “Hard to Say,” a song that sees Tuttle grieving the loss of Austin, his marriage, and his job all at the same time. It’s anchored by his blistering banjo backbone with introspective lyrics like, “Knowing that it’s gone and gone for good, makes you wonder what the hell you’re waiting on?” that serve as a message to himself and anybody listening to ask the questions you need to ask, then play another one.

“Even though the music and lyrics were written over a handful of years, loss and learning to deal with it on a personal level is central to this record,” indicates Tuttle. “That being said, there’s a lot of joy within these songs too. I don’t want to make it seem like I wrote music for five years and all I experienced was misery. Loss is something we all have to deal with at one time or another, and my way of dealing with it was to write some of this music.”

Speaking by phone from his snowed-in Nashville home following a mid-January winter storm, Tuttle opened up about how he approaches being a bandleader compared to his current gig with Golden Highway, being stuck in a Bob Ross painting, choosing to work doing something you love, and more.

You’re notorious for staying extremely busy in your musical endeavors, from sitting in with folks on stage and in the studio to your stints with the Jeff Austin band, (your current gig with) Molly Tuttle, and your own compositions and projects, like Labor of Lust. With that in mind, how do you approach your own music versus being a member of someone else’s band?

Kyle Tuttle: It’s a bit different, because with my own show I’m the bandleader, along with other variables. With my shows, I play with lots of different members, I don’t have one set group of people that know my body of material super well, but rather lots of friends I can call on who all have different strengths. For that reason, when fronting my own band I’m more in the headspace of trying to wrangle all these people and variables together for a cohesive show, whereas with Molly we all have our roles that are specifically defined. One role isn’t more comfortable to me than the other, they just both require different things from me.

Is that comfort what had you leaning on friends like Travis Book, Dominick Leslie, and Lindsay Lou in the studio instead of session players?

It speaks very similarly to what we were just talking about with putting together a version of the Kyle Tuttle Band for shows. I wouldn’t use the term session player though, because even though all of these people are my friends they can also be called “session players” for their work on other’s records, because they’re all so good at what they do. I pick them very specifically based on their strengths and what they’ll bring to the music. I’ve been lucky through my years in the business to build personal connections with an awesome group of people that I can call when I’m looking to create something.

Although not an original, I really enjoy your cover of Harry Nilsson’s “Turn On The Radio” that closes the album. What drew you to that song of his in particular instead of “Coconut” or another of Nilsson’s gems?

I’m gonna have to work on a “Coconut” cover next, because that song is awesome! In all seriousness, [“Turn On The Radio”] felt like a thematically appropriate way to close this album. At the end of the day, I’m just a jamgrass stoner that plays banjo wanting to make a record that people can enjoy and have fun with. This record has some heavy undertones, so I felt like it deserved a nice ribbon on top to end it. It speaks to me big time, [about] remembering those near and dear who you’ve lost, especially if they’re an artist doing something you can hear. That sentiment of “turn on your record player, listen to my song, turn on your night light baby, I’m gone” felt like the right words to capture that feeling even though I didn’t say them, Harry did! I’ve loved the song for a while, so when I began putting this record together it immediately made sense to close it with this.

In terms of your own songs, I understand that “Trailer In Boulder Canyon” came together at two different times, similar to the recording process for all of Labor of Lust?

That’s a funny one, because as I said previously, I’m just a jamgrass stoner banjo player. First and foremost it’s a fun, feel good song about a magical place — a shitty little trailer on the side of a mountain up in Nederland, Colorado, where you don’t have to worry about any of your troubles or cares and just get to play fiddles and banjos and have fun all day. There’s a great jamgrass scene up there due to Vince Herman and Drew Emmitt basically starting Leftover Salmon up there. Years later some of The String Cheese Incident guys moved there followed by Jeff Austin, leading to the eventual forming of Yonder Mountain String Band there as well. There’s such a rich history of the music I love so much in that goofy little mountain town.

I initially wrote the chorus and first verse for the song as a goofy little ditty after it bounced around in my head for a while. I went up there when Vince put together a memorial concert for Jeff to help raise money for his family and so people could grieve together and ended up writing the second half of the song driving up the canyon road to get there. So like a lot of things on this record, part of it came to me at one point before finishing it off much later.

You’ve got three instrumentals on this record and another mostly instrumental tune in “Two Big Hearts.” What variations do songs like those have compared to ones with lyrics in the creation process?

The process is relatively the same, because no matter if I write with lyrics or melody I’m starting with some short idea and building around that nugget of information piece by piece. If it’s a melody, it’ll probably come out as an instrumental, but if it’s with lyrics it’s probably going to come out as a song with vocals. Even though it’s one track, “Two Big Hearts” is really two songs. The lyrics in it don’t come in until the second song, nearly four minutes in, but I felt that both were similar enough that they should be together and presented as one idea. I don’t think I’ll ever play one part of it without playing the other.

On “Not Quite Spring,” you’re singing about being stuck inside a Bob Ross painting. How’d that idea come about?

That’s a COVID song. I was sitting around on the couch watching a lot of Bob Ross’s The Joy Of Painting, just killing time like we all were back then. All of his paintings were titled and each episode of his show is titled after the painting he does in it. [“Not Quite Spring” is season 25, episode 3]. It’s of this spooky, huge mountain that’s covered in snow and frozen. A lot of his paintings are happy sunsets and warm things like a pond reflecting the trees around it, a stark contrast to this one that’s cold, dark and lonely, which is exactly how I felt at the time trapped inside my house.

In the album’s liner notes you allude to a life in music often being painted in glamor, when in reality it’s a consistent grind where persistence pays off. Is that message of sticking to it what you’re singing about on “Saddle Up?”

“Saddle Up” is the term I have for getting up every day and doing it again. It’s the idea that you may not have succeeded today or done everything you wanted to do the way you wanted to do it, which is what I’m touching on with the lyric, “The past can’t be where my best is.”

I feel like persistence defines my own life and career. Anyone who works in pursuit of a skill or art is always striving to get better. Even outside of that, we’re all working on our personal relationships and doing better by the people around us. Hopefully our best work, whether it be art or personal growth, is ahead of us and it’s not all downhill from here. It’s also a message I wish to impart on any listener or friend going through a rough patch to remind them that brighter days are on the horizon.

With Labor of Lust’s themes of personal growth in mind, what’s one resolution you have for yourself, music or otherwise, in 2024?

I’m actually trying to play the banjo even more, not from the standpoint of traveling and playing more shows, but just tinkering with it more in my downtime. It’s an interesting duality, tying your work to something you love. It’s a tricky thing to do because the lines between work and play are instantly blurred and made one. If it’s all work and no play it makes Jack a dull boy, so my resolution is to just keep the banjo in my hands for fun and to work smarter, not harder, which comes back to the idea that the past is not where my best work is.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

BGS 5+5: Vince Herman

Artist: Vince Herman
Hometown: Madison, Tennessee
Latest Album: Enjoy the Ride

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

As far as big influences go, polka bands were my first taste of live music. Family weddings always had a polka band. Often Frank Granata’s band from Carnegie, Pennsylvania. As far as playing music myself, I’d have to say that seeing David Bromberg with his big band in 9th grade really set me on the path to developing a bluegrass obsession. They played several instruments each and really dug into traditional music in a lot of forms. I’m still musically ADD from that experience. The first time hearing Doc Watson also blew my mind.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

The first time I knew I wanted to be a musician is way too early to remember. I have a photo of myself at three-years-old playing a plywood guitar my brother made for me, dressed as a Beatle. Ten years later, I went to the Smoky City Folks Festival in Pittsburgh and saw 40 old time musicians playing a tune together under a tree in the park. The social aspect of music dawned on me there. I realized I could travel and meet people by playing music. Boom. I was all in.

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

My musical mission statement is centered around having a good time. Music brings people together usually as their best self. It’s my job to make them happy. They made the choice to spend time with me and the band. Dancing’s fun. Humor goes a long way and improvising about the here and now always seems to bring folks further into the moment we’re all sharing. Making the world go away for a bit is a good thing. On the other hand, artists have a responsibility to interpret the current cultural situation and that may involve politics. That doesn’t scare me. Some of the best moments of my career have been singing a song from my heart that makes you think of social justice issues.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

I’d say the best advice I’ve ever received is to be myself and know that expressing your real self is far more important than trying to play to some imagined level of perfection. Bruce Hampton really drove this home. He’d be on stage with monsters like Jimmy Herring or Otiel Burbridge yet his simple soulful notes would bring the house and his band to their knees. It’s about the intention. Why are you playing something rather than how!

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

My ideal meal/musician combo would be to be in South Louisiana making a big seafood gumbo while BeauSoleil played in a picnic shelter next to the water. Food and music that reflect a place and the culture it grows out of is my jam!


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

A Bluegrass Family Reunion at AmericanaFest: Photo Recap

Ahh it was good to be back at AmericanaFest this year. While last year’s conference felt a bit lighter than normal years, with the pandemic bringing a tentative air, 2022 felt like a bit of a family reunion as we came back in full swing, especially as BGS gathered through the week with so many of those closest to us to celebrate our 10th year. After all, BGS is nothing without our community. BGS is the community! Take a look at the gallery below for a photo recap of our week in Nashville.

We started things off on Tuesdat at a packed Station Inn for a night of bluegrass with Jason Carter and Friends, featuring special guests like Ronnie and Rob McCoury, Michael Cleveland, Ketch Secor, Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, Shelby Means, Kyle Tuttle, Vince Herman, and David Grier.

Wednesday brought a happy hour at the City Winery Lounge ahead of the Americana Honors and Awards that evening, as we officially celebrated 10 years of BGS (featuring a ton of birthday cake – thanks to the Cupcake Collection!) and an afternoon of music from Rainbow Girls, Willie Watson, and Kyshona.

Finally, on Friday we gathered at the Basement with our friends at Nettwerk Music Group and Taylor Guitars, with performances from Lullanas, Phillip LaRue, Brooke Annibale, Mark Wilkinson, Old Sea Brigade, and Bre Kennedy.


Photos by Steve Lowry

BGS 5+5: Aaron Raitiere

Artist: Aaron Raitiere
Hometown: Danville, Kentucky
Latest Album: Single Wide Dreamer
Personal Nicknames: Rat

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I was in high school and went to see a band called Leftover Salmon at the All Good Music Festival in Virginia. It was the first time I had ever seen grown people gettin’ wild in the mountains. A true mess of music, community, and insanity. Leftover took the stage and Vince Herman was dancing around with a big foam cheeseburger on his head. The band went into the traditional bluegrass song “Hot Corn, Cold Corn” and Vince grabbed a burlap sack full of corn and started throwing it at the crowd just yelling out “CORN!” — that was the moment I knew I wanted to be a musician. I couldn’t believe that guy was getting paid. What a job.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

The deals that take the longest to make are the deals that last the longest. And never write anything down on paper that you don’t want someone else to know.

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

My mom just retired from 40 years as a Case Manager in the ER in Central Kentucky. When I was tryin’ to figure out what I wanted to do she always said she didn’t care what I did as long as I helped people. I try to help people with my songs. I think my mission statement would be “Help People.”

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I’m a water baby. A lifetime swimmer. I prefer a river over a pond, lake, or an ocean. But most any water will do. I’ve got a spot I like to spend time at just north of Nashville. It’s quiet. Silence is golden, right?

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

The best songs are found in the truth. When I’m writing, the You is always Me or some version of a Me. It’s someone I can relate to. Someone with similar opinions and feelings. Someone I can write down what they are saying. It’s hard to hide behind anything anymore. People aren’t stupid, and there are cameras everywhere.


Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

LISTEN: Leftover Salmon, “Boogie Grass Band”

Artist: Leftover Salmon
Hometown: Boulder, Colorado
Song: “Boogie Grass Band”
Album: Brand New Good Old Days
Release Date: May 7, 2021
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: “This old Conway Twitty song was recommended for the band by our friend Ronnie McCoury years ago. It speaks to where we sit on the musical spectrum. We love country, bluegrass and rock music and like to do them all at the same time! This song acknowledges that while taking it taking it in a uniquely Salmon direction.” — Vince Herman, Leftover Salmon


Photo credit: John-Ryan Lockman

The String – Leftover Salmon

Vince Herman and Drew Emmitt met in 1985 on Vince’s first night in Boulder, CO and formed a lifelong musical bond. With banjo player Mark Vann they merged two bands into one and became Leftover Salmon at the dawn of 1990.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS

In the 30 years since, they’ve earned the respect and partnership of the highest levels of the bluegrass and acoustic worlds while playing music that’s as adventuresome as it is laid back. Herman and Emmitt marked the anniversary with a duo acoustic tour. The String’s host Craig Havighurst caught up with the pair at Nashville’s City Winery for a wide ranging talk about their years together.

Three Decades In, Leftover Salmon Let out a ‘Festival!’ Yell

Three decades ago at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, two bands of oddballs who couldn’t get invited to play the main stage said “screw it,” and teamed up for a bar gig back in town… And the rest, as they say, is history.

That slapped-together combo took the name Leftover Salmon. They’ve since gone on to influence an entire generation of bluegrass-based music. Most fans are familiar with the broad strokes of their tale — the renegade musical brotherhood of Vince Herman and Drew Emmitt, the band’s bluegrass/rock fusion and resulting evolution into the prototypical jamgrass group, and the spirit of good times, good friends, and good tunes which still permeates the scene they helped create. But few have heard the entire story until now.

In Leftover Salmon: Thirty Years of Festival!, author Tim Newby dives deep into hazy memories and unforgettable highlights, tracing the twisted path that led the band to its current, esteemed place in roots music lore. Across 13 chapters and more than 300 pages Newby coaxes the story from the band’s revolving lineup — deftly treading the line between historian and hardcore fan — and in the end much is revealed of the band’s high-minded beginnings and unshakable ethos, as well as the struggles they’ve seen along the way. And it’s all done with a wild “Festival!” yell running between the lines.

To be sure, the Leftover Salmon story is not over yet. The band continues to traverse the country on tour – recently swinging through Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium and thrilling a hometown crowd at Denver’s Red Rocks Amphitheatre shortly after — and they plan on returning to the studio this fall to record “three or four tunes” for release “over the interwebs.” But in the meantime, Herman shared some laughs with The Bluegrass Situation about the process of looking back, what the book means to the band, and why none of this would have happened if not for the Iran-Contra scandal.

BGS: Were you surprised Tim wanted to do this book?

Herman: Absolutely. It’s a massive endeavor and he put like three years into it. That alone is an amazing honor — no matter how it came out. [Laughs] But no, we were definitely surprised and delighted that he wanted to do it.

Was there any hesitation in laying everything out there?

Not on my part. We were pretty psyched about all the fun we’ve been able to have over the years, and to have somebody locate it within the larger picture of the music community, it just felt like an honor. Sure, we had some rowdy times and wild things have happened, and it might sound a little more like a rock ‘n’ roll band in the book than a bluegrass band, but I hope it throws some light on how deeply we respect the bluegrass tradition, where that all sprang out of and how we are trying to integrate that along with a more inclusive rock ‘n’ roll vision. I think the book addresses pretty well how we tried to walk that tightrope.

Tim told me you let him root around in your lives for weeks at a time. He said he was at your house digging through old file cabinets and everything. What was that like from your perspective?

Well, it was comforting because I’ve moved around a whole lot over the years and I’ve been toting that stuff with me for a long time. [Laughs] There was finally some validation of “All right, maybe it was a good idea to keep this stuff.”

Did he dig up anything you had forgotten about, or give some insight on how the others viewed things that happened?

One of the things he dug up that I hadn’t looked at in years and years were [late, founding banjo player] Mark Vann’s calendars. He was sort of like our manager early on, and it was cool because they had notes on them about booking gigs and what we got paid, some expenses and all that. Man, we played a lot of years for $500 a night! [Laughs]

One thing I learned was that the Iran-Contra scandal helped create the band, and this was not a connection I would have made on my own. Can you explain?

[Laughs] Well, there are two ways it affected me. When I moved to Boulder, [Colorado] from Morgantown, [West Virginia] in 1985, I was just gonna be here for a couple of months and then go be a witness for peace on the border of Nicaragua, so that part of the Iran-Contra scandal was definitely on my mind when I moved here.

But a few years later when I started a band called The Salmon Heads, we had played our first gig on the hill at Taylor’s in Boulder, and we had an accordion and washboard instead of drums. We played our first set and the bar manager said, “You guys don’t have to do your second set. We’re gonna call it, you don’t play college music.” But we said “Fuck that shit” and continued to play, and it was fun.

That night after the show, someone threw a brick through the window of the club in a random act — and it was not related to us in any way shape or form — but the next morning everyone on the hill was wondering what happened to Taylor’s last night. So we seized that opportunity and made some posters for a house party we were playing, and they said, “Come see what the Aya-Taylor had determined was not college music!” At the time the Ayatollah was in all the papers, so we created the Aya-Taylor, and that party was raging that night. It’s the intersection of history and music.

It’s not all funny stories, as the book goes into some of the more difficult decisions you’ve had to make and plenty of hard times. Were there any tender spots where it still hurt to think about?

Oh yeah, definitely. Especially around Mark Vann [who died from cancer in 2002] and rebuilding and trying to keep going. We finally decided to call it quits for a while and didn’t really expect to come back, and that was an intense time. We were driven to the point where we just weren’t having fun hanging out together anymore, and it was tough because we never really took the time out to grieve Mark, I think. We had to push on because that’s how we all made our living — it’s always been a blue collar band working paycheck to paycheck. That was really difficult and eventually the spiritual price of it was just too much.

The book also traces the evolution of Colorado’s music scene, which you guys were sort of inadvertently at the epicenter of.

Yeah, when we got to town there wasn’t a bluegrass scene. I rolled into a Left Hand String Band show when I drove here from West Virginia and that connection was made immediately. But bluegrass was kept in its corner and the big thing in town was blues and electric stuff. We just felt like we were this musical niche that was best used for Grange Halls and old-timey dances, and to see it move out of Grange Halls and into concert halls over time was definitely a satisfying experience for us, and something I think we might have had a little to do with.

But it’s certainly not like we started anything new, and I’ve always been the guy who says we were really just walking in the footsteps of New Grass Revival and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. People like to say, “This started here” and “That started there,” but it’s always a continuation of some tradition with a new twist, perhaps.

After looking back on these 30 years, do you feel like the band has changed – musically or as friends? Or is it still the same spirit as when you began?

I just had a friend from Japan who was my college roommate in 1982 come visit, and I hadn’t seen him all those years. He came and we went to our show at Red Rocks, and then a friend of mine gave him a ride to the airport. On the way my friend asked my old roommate, “So how’s Vince seem to be doing all these years later?” And he answered, “Vince is still in college!” So I guess we won!

Maybe that’s part of why this thing has worked for so long.

We get to have these joyous jobs where we meet new friends and constantly reconnect with old ones, and play a lot of festivals, which is when humans are at their finest form, I think. And through all this stuff, we’ve been able to build this life that’s pretty dang pleasurable. Not that it’s easy on relationships or anything, but our day-to-day living is pretty dang pleasant.


Photo credit: Bob Carmichael