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.

The Old Hippie Who Gets Bluegrass Right

You know, for an old hippie, Peter Rowan has made some of the most genuine, heartfelt bluegrass music you'll ever hear. He's one second-generation picker who knows that bluegrass works best when you keep the blues in it.

In this clip, however, it's Emmylou Harris and The Nash Ramblers — a band that includes Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas — doing the pickin' and sangin'.

They're covering a song that Rowan wrote with Bill Monroe, and the intensity speaks for itself when two lovers are separated by “The Walls of Time”.

Now, this is a story!

It was written by Robin and Linda Williams, who sing it here, backed by some of the best session men in bluegrass. That's Jerry Douglas on dobro, Sam Bush on mandolin, and Stuart Duncan on fiddle, giving it plenty of Cajun flavor.

I think I even remember this performance. If memory serves, it's from a predominantly-bluegrass New Year's Eve concert -- 2007 maybe? -- which aired on PBS for Prairie Home Companion. Everybody brought their A game that night, and it was one of the shows that pushed me further toward bluegrass music.

This is "Rollin' and Ramblin' (The Death Of Hank Williams).

The Story Of A Cover Band That Cleaned Up

How can anybody remain unmoved, unconvinced, unimpressed by The Earls Of Leicester?

After they cleaned up at the IBMAs earlier this month, some indie reporter (yawn) groused that they were no more than “a Flatt and Scruggs cover band”.

If that’s true, folks, this ain’t your daddy’s Flatt and Scruggs.

Jerry Douglas brings the funk from the first note. Banjo ace, Charlie Cushman answers, carrying the whole thing back down home. Douglas roars into overdrive again and fiddler, Johnny Warren responds with lovely, sorghum-drenched country fiddling.

You think it’ll go on like that until Cushman takes his second break – a mind-bending fusion of textbook Scruggs licks, bluesy twang, and playful Americana that beats Douglas at his own game.

By the time you notice Barry Bales laying down bass lines as rock-solid as they are tasty, he’s soloing, and his break is so revelatory that the crowd bursts into applause even before he’s finished.

Recorded live at the D.C. Bluegrass Union this past February, these are The Earls Of Leicester with “Foggy Mountain Rock”.

Sparkling Bluegrass From The Earls of Leicester

Ah, The Earls Of Leicester, showing once again the dazzling musicianship that won them this year’s Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album.

It takes real confidence to stretch and slink your way into an intro, the way Shawn Camp does in this first number. Think about it: Anyone else would be hammy, heavy-handed, goading the audience to cheer and whistle, in that tired old way that so many entertainers have.

That’s not good enough for these guys. Listen to the interplay between Camp and Jerry Douglas’s singing dobro lines. The way banjoist Charlie Cushman holds back so tastefully, surprising you with sparkling fills late in the number.

As for the second number, all I can say is, Johnny Warren! Split-second timing; beautiful, clean articulation; and having fun all the while. There’s not a sterile moment to be had, thank God.

These are The Earls of Leicester with “Big Black Train” and Black-Eyed Suzie”.

I’ve posted clips before but here, at long last, is the full set. From 1975, J.D. Crowe & The New South – Tony Rice, Ricky Skaggs, Jerry Douglas, and Bobby Slone.

Highlights include the opening track, “Rock, Salt, and Nails”; “The Old Home Place” (always a staple of Crowe’s New South sets); “Ten Degrees and Getting Colder” (Tony Rice was the premier bluegrass interpreter of the songs of Gordon Lightfoot) and, of course, “Sin City”, which I believe I’ve reblogged individually more than once. Even so, this performance of it is especially powerful.

Vassar Clements on fiddle, Mark O'Connor on mandolin, Béla Fleck on banjo, Jerry Douglas on dobro, Junior Huskey on bass. Who’d they get together for?

Jimmy Martin and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, that’s who. As you might expect, everybody has a blast and brings it, too. It’s hard to pick a favorite when they’re all “"Sittin’ On Top Of the World”.

This is Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver at their best – simple, tasteful, but still singing the blues.
Lawson’s picking has always been underrated, and this clip is a perfect example. Why not get out of the way and let the vocals shine?

Lawson, banjoist Scott Vestal, and guest dobroist, Jerry Douglas, do exactly that. Meanwhile, Glen Duncan and Hoot Hester on twin fiddles mirror the crying vocals to perfection.

Put it all together, and you get this outstanding performance of “One Way Train”.

Boone Creek, the short-lived group featuring Ricky Skaggs, Jerry Douglas, and future Doyle Lawson banjoist, Terry Baucom. This is yet another example of progressive bluegrass done right.

Listen to the pure country sweetness of Douglas’s break on “Me and Bobby McGee”, followed by Ricky Skaggs who doesn’t seem to know if he’s Bill Monroe, John Duffey, or jazz-rock guitarist, George Benson.
You may not love it, but you can’t classify it as anything but bluegrass – the drive, timing, vocal style, and subject matter see to that, along with the specific selection of acoustic instruments. Tear down the walls and incubate a new strain, by all means. Just make sure that your bluegrass says “bluegrass” with something more than the instrumentation.

It’s a darn good thing Jerry Douglas’s impression of T. Tommy Cuttrer didn’t make it onto the debut album by The Earls Of Leicester. Otherwise, they might not have won the Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album.

T. Tommy, btw, was the emcee of the Flatt and Scruggs TV show, as well as the face of the show’s sponsor, Martha White. Here are The Earls Of Leicester to sing the Martha White jingle, and to follow it up with “Hot Corn, Cold Corn”.

“Bring along a demijohn” indeed. There’s a-gonna be a party!

When you’re talking about J.D. Crowe & The New South, this was the lineup: Ricky Skaggs, Tony Rice, Jerry Douglas, and Bobby Slone.

You know the reputations and the brilliant work of all these musicians and singers, I hope. If you don’t, here’s a little factoid to give you an idea of how influential this lineup was and is to this day: Their first album is so legendary that it’s known, not by its name, but by its number: 0044.

Legends aside, drunk looks like shit – and sounds far worse – on a certain mandolin player who’d just turned 21. Matter of fact, it doesn’t serve a certain superstar guitarist very well either. The good news is that these days, they both give themselves fully to the music, and their occasions in the spotlight are all the better for it.

This is so sad and beautiful! It’s almost as though John Hartford is under-performing to keep his emotions from spilling over.

That said, it’s on the instrumental breaks that these musicians really shine.The late Junior Huskey is on bass, Jerry Douglas on dobro, Vassar Clements on fiddle, Mark O’Connor laying aside his fiddle for the mandolin, and Tony Rice on guitar.

It’s funny: Usually, folks are dazzled by O’Connor’s fiddling and Rice’s blinding speed. Yet O’Connor on mando, and Rice taking his sweet time to be thoughtful with the melody, turn in the two best performances on “Old Time River Man”.

This was a teaser for the debut release from The Earls of Leicester, recorded in the breathtaking Studio A at Ocean Way in Nashville.

This is my favorite Earls vocal from Shawn Camp to date. He puts his heart and soul into a Flatt & Scruggs favorite called, “On My Mind”.

This band. This BAND!

Between them, they’ve played just about every kind of music imaginable. Yet, they get together to dust off these moldy, old chestnuts from the Flatt and Scruggs catalog.

Why? Because they’re having fun, and their fun is infectious — from the pun in their name to Shawn Camp’s silly Lester Flatt impressions.

Did I mention that their musicianship will knock you, um, flatt?

That’s Barry Bales on bass, Charlie Cushman on banjo, Johnny Warren (son of long-time F & S fiddler, Paul Warren) on fiddle, Tim O’Brien on mandolin, Jerry Douglas on dobro, and Shawn Camp on guitar.

Distinguished guests, The Earls of Leicester with “Get In Line, Brother”.