EDITOR'S NOTE: Re-upping this piece from September 5, 2017.
Anyone who's familiar with the work of Jerry Douglas knows he is neither an alarmist nor a strict traditionalist. Yet, last month, he tweeted something (above) indicating that even he might be getting a little worried about the future of bluegrass music.
Threatened form of bluegrass? Indeed.
Last month, co-founder of Rounder Records, Ken Irwin, took to BGRASS-L to present clear and convincing evidence that bluegrass is on its way out as a distinct Grammy category -- simply because of an insufficient number of submissions by potential candidates for the bluegrass Grammy.
Naturally, there were excuses in abundance. Somehow, there always are, in bluegrass (Yes, the "bluegrass is circling the drain" discussion has been had more than once).
The truth is, there's always been tension between art and commerce, and there always will be. Yet if, as so many suggest, there's no money to be made from traditional bluegrass (except for Jimmy Martin, Ralph Stanley, except, except, except -- also an old familiar refrain in bluegrass music), how is it that so many newgrass, spacegrass, jamgrass, and so-called "traditional-plus" bands can't scrape together the submission fee to take a shot at Grammy glory?
How is it that there are scads of Alison Krauss CDs in the record store used bins, but no Jimmy Martin, no Bill Monroe, no Ralph Stanley? Could it be that the tepid brand of brunchgrass favored by Krauss and artists like Lonesome River Band, Laurie Lewis, Special Consensus, The Gibson Brothers, The Boxcars, and so many more fails to live up to the hype?
When hardcore bluegrass fans rhapsodize that "You've never heard anything like this," what must newbies think when they switch on the radio and find that bluegrass, too, sounds all alike?
The blame for that numbing sameness can be laid at the door of the radio programmers, bloggers, journalists, PR flacks, and label owners who claim to be on the lookout for the heirs to the first generation but, when presented with passionate, traditional acts, say "We don't want to starve."
So it goes, and it's going right out the window. Don't take this as a warning, though; the time for warnings is long past. Take it as inevitable, and hope that, 100 years from now, somebody cracks open a time capsule, finds a recording of "Uncle Pen" or "Man Of Constant Sorrow" or "Hit Parade Of Love", and decides to play bluegrass for the love of it, whether or not it is financially feasible. It's only unrealistic when someone decides that their "something to fall back on" needs to be bluegrass music, bent and shaped into something resembling a cash cow. Or a golden calf -- whatever.
So, you see, there's a reason you haven't seen a lot of bluegrass on a blog that started out as nothing but. It makes me sad but, as I've remarked in previous posts, I'd rather die than go backwards. If this is what the future sounds like, so be it. Sure, it sounds bitter and I am -- a little bit. I'm also looking forward to whatever comes next.
See, when artists aren't held hostage by a label like "bluegrass" -- or the gruesome parody that the genre has become -- they're free to make passionate, sparkling, hopeful music. I'm tired of scarcity, negativity, gate-keeping, and excuse-making. I want to be where there's more than enough, as long as you widen your sights.
For me, bluegrass died a long time ago. I've done my best to try and bring it back to life. I refuse to turn my back on it, but I'm not going to sluice through the rubbish looking for gold, either.
Funny thing about gold though, it tends to show up, bright as day, whether you're working or playing.
I'd rather play.
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