What Is Bluegrass, Anyway?

EDITOR'S NOTE: Re-upping this piece from November 3, 2017.

It's a question that has perplexed even veteran bluegrass artists, with the possible exception of Bill Monroe, who fathered the genre; a question revisited so often that, in bluegrass circles, it has its own acronym -- WIBA.

What is bluegrass, anyway?

You'll never hear the same answer twice.

Even I, in the relatively-short lifespan of this blog, have suggested different answers.

It might seem strange, but I was pushed to solidify my position on this issue after viewing a superb documentary called "How Britain Got the Blues", which I wrote about here.

The parallels between the way the Mississippi Delta blues gained popularity with British middle class kids in the 50s and the way American college kids embraced traditional bluegrass music just a few years later are striking: White kids, middle class, well-educated, on the liberal end of the socio-political spectrum, with a healthy respect for the original artists, a profound understanding that they had nothing in common with the life experiences of those artists, and the steadfast refusal to act as though they did.

Fast forward to 1996, and award-winning "bluegrass" wunderkind, Alison Krauss, interviewed by Jim Macnie for Rolling Stone in January of 1996.

"You and your band have changed some perceptions about what bluegrass can be and what country is," Macnie observes. 

Krauss: "I think whatever we have slipped by somebody is great. [Laughs.]"

It's hard not to think of Led Zeppelin, who have been sued more than once for ripping off traditional blues artists, and have demonstrated only the most flippant regard for the consequences of their actions. It's interesting to note that Krauss and Zeppelin's Robert Plant were romantically linked for years.

Could it be that what bluegrass is, has do to with morals and ethics?

For me, the answer is definitive: It's how you -- as a fan, promoter, journalist, DJ, publicist, record company exec, or artist -- treat the art and culture of people who have almost nothing but their art and culture to mark their place in the world.

It's whether you seek to redefine or replace that art and culture to entertain privileged, white audiences while reinforcing the idea that they and you are preserving an artistic and cultural expression that is both cutting-edge and authentic.

But, it's the 21st century! If you don't do bluegrass the way everyone else is doing it, how can you do it at all?

Theologian, Eugene Peterson, suggested a better way when he wrote, "The poor are not a problem to be solved, but a people to join."

Regardless of what their belief systems may have been, both Mike Seeger and his half-brother, Pete, exemplified this mindset in the way they collected, distributed, performed, and promoted American vernacular music, and the way they respected its original artists.

Sadly, though there are those who hold similar views today, they lack the prevailing influence on the culture that the the entire Seeger family had. Today's amateur musicologists look to American Idol and Madison Avenue for their promotional strategies, scorning preservation as drudgery, and an impossible task, besides.

If, as many bluegrass traditionalists claim, bluegrass music is dying, it's because the vast majority of "bluegrassers" don't believe they have a moral imperative not to kill it.

Bluegrass Music: The Death Of A Thousand Cuts

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.