The Great Interpreter

There aren’t many live recordings of legendary singer/guitarist, Red Allen, available so I’m glad to see his recorded work on YouTube. Red was one of the greatest interpreters of songs in bluegrass, and this performance is no exception.

The album this comes from, Keep On Going: The Rebel and Melodeon Recordings is an essential compendium of his work. Bonus: It features the work of some stellar sidemen including fiddler, Scotty Stoneman and banjoist, Porter Church.

The song is “Hello City Limits”.

Harmonious

Of the brother duos so popular in the 1930s, The Monroe Brothers had speed. Bill and Earl Bollick, collectively known as The Blue Sky Boys, had beautiful, intricate harmonies like these.

This is “Happy Sunny Side Of Life”.

Newgrass Does Trad Grass

NewGrass Revival, having a blast at Bean Blossom, 1972. Relative to much of what NGR did, this is a fairly traditional sound. Even so, they manage to sneak in some mighty rock riffs.

This is “Wild Hog”.

Hank Williams, High Lonesome Style

Maybe it's that high lonesome sound, but, for some reason, the songs of Hank Williams sound especially good when done in the bluegrass style. This one is no exception.

 Here are The Shenandoah Cut-ups in their gospel incarnation, The Shenandoah Valley Quartet, with “How Can You Refuse Him Now”.

Decorated Veterans

What did it take to sing tenor to Jimmy Martin?

When he left Bill Monroe for a solo career, Jimmy Martin had to answer that question with a tenor whose power equalled Monroe’s. Martin found the perfect foil in Paul Williams.

A few years ago, Williams got together with two other Martin alumni – Doyle Lawson (who plays guitar here), and banjo man, J.D Crowe. They’ve made a couple of well-received albums, but when they hit the stage, they blow the roof off the dump.

In this clip, they’re joined by Jason Barie on fiddle and Dale Perry on bass – both of whom were members of Lawson’s band, Quicksilver, at the time. And though everyone is in top form, it’s hard not to single out Crowe’s return to a more traditional, blues-based style (He has said he learned a lot from Fats Domino’s piano playing) for his work with this group. This is his best picking in years!

Here they are with Williams out in front, singing one of his signature numbers, “The Hills Of Roane County”.

Bill Monroe's Playful Side

Kenny Baker set the standard for every bluegrass fiddler who came after. So, why have I picked this obscure performance to highlight his genius?

I picked it because Baker’s kickoff here is one of my top five bluegrass kickoffs of all time. I picked it because it’s sassy and playful – attributes never associated with Monroe, but often with Baker (although “sprightly” is the adjective more often applied in Baker’s case).

I picked it, because the creativity and playfulness never let up – just listen to Baker’s backup, Lonnie Hoppers’s banjo fills.

Speaking of creativity, Monroe introduces his break by quoting the final notes of “Taps” at a tempo that makes it sound more like “Reveille”. After all, everybody needs an army to protect their playhouse, er, stillhouse. The original lyric says “stillhouse”.

Monroe, who had been beaten and bullied by an alcoholic older brother, would have none of it. And that makes the whimsy driving this track all the more remarkable.

This is Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys, featuring bluegrass fiddle pioneer, Kenny Baker, with “Darling Corey”.

How Bluegrass Grew

If a couple of college students named Mike Seeger and Ralph Rinzler hadn’t prodded Bill Monroe out of his bluegrass depression-era funk, moments like this might never have happened.

As it was, Monroe transformed himself over the years into a benevolent-ish bluegrass patriarch, sharing his musical wisdom with the generations that followed during post-show jams and random yet momentous encounters.

What was a dying, regional musical style became a movement, paving the way for musical pyrotechnics like this.

The Del McCoury Band, featuring mandolinist, Ronnie McCoury, joins Marty Stuart for a blistering version of Bill Monroe’s “Rawhide”.

Pure Bluegrass, Poisonous Times

How can you make a case for the exceptional quality of one recording when every recording made by this lineup was exceptional?

There was nothing good about Monroe’s life in this period: woman trouble; the bluegrass depression; the bookings in smaller, dreary venues; the hastening obscurity and increasing combativeness of the man that nobody had yet acknowledged as the father of bluegrass music – all of it was garbage.

Except the music.

During this period, Monroe made the most painful, incandescent, and enduring music of his life. It helped that he had an equally-troubled duet partner in Jimmy Martin (No, that’s not Martin in the video still, but Bill’s older brother, Charlie – speaking of problematic relationships).

This is “Poison Love”.

Swinging For the Fences

“It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing”. Not a rule normally associated with bluegrass, but it should be. Just listen to how hard Monroe and his band from 1941 are swinging on this one; it’s like a master class on bluegrass timing.

It’s funny: So much is made of Monroe’s 1946 band that nobody remembers that he and his musicians were geniuses way before that.

This is their take on Jimmie Rodgers’s “Blue Yodel #7”.

Bluegrass From Another World

“Otherworldly” is not an adjective I’ve ever applied to a bluegrass record, but if ever a bluegrass record deserved to be called otherworldly, it’s this one. Stranger still is that it’s sung by two of the least otherworldly singers you could name – Bill Monroe and Jimmy Martin, along with banjoist Rudy Lyle. In fact, that’s young Jimmy Martin playing the guitar in the video still.

A few people have tried to cover this number, with no success whatsoever. They only succeed in pulling it down to earth when it needs to float up and away, as it does in the opening credits of the bluegrass documentary, “High Lonesome”. That opening sequence sends chills up my spine every time I hear it.

This is “A Voice From On High”.

Two Ways To Play

Having only heard Del McCoury’s version of this old song, I was curious to see how Jim and Jesse interpreted it.

Where McCoury is rueful, seeing the humor through the pain, the McReynolds brothers feel the sting keenly. The picking is just a bit angry, and the poignant harmonies cut like a knife. Oddly enough, I like them both.

Here are Jim and Jesse with “She Left Me Standing On the Mountain”.

An Unexpected Pleasure

Critics loved it; fans hated it. The fans were expecting more psychedelia; what they got was … this.

Generations of country rock and bluegrass lovers – artists and fans alike – have been grateful to The Byrds ever since. Sweetheart of the Rodeo has been an incalculable influence on countless artists from Emmylou Harris to the Eagles.

Some might even blame this seminal album for the dilution of today’s bluegrass and country with rock and pop. They shouldn’t. Just listen to this straight-up, bluegrass version of Woody Guthrie’s “Pretty Boy Floyd”.

How Bluegrass Does Vitriol

So, this is bluegrass: sad, lonesome, even vitriolic lyrics (like this one) delivered with a joy that’s contagious and a driving rhythm (on top of the beat, please) that’s irresistible. Listen to the way the crowd responds to Del McCoury and David Grisman, and their version of Jimmy Martin’s “Dog Bite Your Hide”.

Don’t know who the fiddler is, since they're off camera, but that’s one tasty break.

BONUS: Bluegrass clapping school, done to perfection on the off beats.

Vintage Weekend Listening

Here’s some gorgeous listening: Emmylou Harris and Ricky Skaggs, their sublime duet vocals, a well-chosen selection of country and bluegrass songs, and minimal acoustic accompaniment. When two singers are this brilliant, this emotionally raw, who needs anything else?

A Different Kind of Murder

Larry Cordle, who penned this tune, invokes Hank Williams, Ralph Stanley, and The Possum himself —George Jones — in this pure country lament for the direction country music has taken.

He’s joined by Don Rigsby, bluegrass tenor singer extraordinaire, for “Murder On Music Row”.

Union Man, Scammed

The Downhill Bluegrass Band wrote this one in honor of union organizer, songwriter, and fellow Swede, Joe Hill, who was executed for murder on the basis of evidence that was later disproved.

The lyrics are based on Hill’s last will, which he sent to Ethel Raim, founder of The Pennywhistlers.

This is the Downhill Bluegrass Band, with the song they’ve simply entitled, “Joe Hill”.

Jimmy Martin Sneaks Past the Censors

A good ole goodun from Jimmy Martin. Pretty sure the quaint lyrics got him past the censors, but Martin is laughing all the way to the bank.

Everyone is in top form here. This was banjo picker J.D. Crowe’s first Decca session, and he hit the ground running with this track. Earl Taylor, who was far more effective as a sideman than he ever was as a frontman, gets that high, stinging tenor part just right.

This is “Dog Bite Your Hide”.

The Crooked Gospel Way

 Gospel music has always been a part of bluegrass music and culture; Bill Monroe, the father of bluegrass, designed it that way. “It’s got Methodist, Baptist, and Holiness singing,” Monroe said of bluegrass, naming three Christian denominations with three then-distinct singing styles.

Anyone who has an inside knowledge of bluegrass can point to artists, past and present, whose sanctimonious public personas hardly match up to their hell-raising, sometimes addicted, sometimes downright mean private selves.

Some people would like to use that knowledge an excuse to jettison gospel music from bluegrass altogether. After all, if these artists are in such bondage to their socially-conservative culture, shouldn’t we free them — and non-Christian bluegrass fans in the process — from it?

Sure, if you think they’re so ignorant, culturally-unaware, and disempowered that they need you to come in and improve their culture for them.

For those who are still in school learning about these things, that’s called cultural imperialism. It’s just as ugly when upper-middle class white Americans force it on working-class, Appalachian southerners as when the American government forces it on, say, Native Americans.

That said, bluegrass gospel music will be a regular feature here on Uncouth Utterance. Doubtless that will irritate the stuffing out of some of you.

I’m fine with that. Cultural imperialism? Not so much.

This is a very early recording of The Louvin Brothers from a live, local radio show with “The Gospel Way”.

The Real Source of Keith Whitley's Blues

Maybe Keith Whitley was just a really good singer. On the other hand you wonder why, if he felt this way, did he ever leave bluegrass for the bright lights of Nashville?

It's a legitimate question: For those of you who don't know, Whitley began his career as a duet partner to Ricky Skaggs while both were still teenagers in Sandy Hook, Kentucky. When Ralph Stanley was late to a gig in a nearby town, they entertained the crowd while they waited for the man with the 100-year-old voice.

When Stanley finally arrived, he heard two young voices that reminded him keenly of the way he had sounded with his late brother, Carter, as one of the pioneering acts of the then-infant genre of bluegrass.

Stanley hired both Skaggs and Whitley to join his band, The Clinch Mountain Boys. The music they made is some of the most legendary in all of bluegrass.

After his time with Stanley, and an equally-legendary stint with J.D. Crowe and The New South, Whitley went country. While he recorded some classics, they lack the depth of his bluegrass work. The lyrics may be emotional, but his delivery is as polished and remote as Music City itself.

Whitley struggled with alcoholism for many years -- most of those as a wildly-successful country singer in Nashville. Maybe it's just me, but I think that's more than mere coincidence.

Alcoholism killed Whitley at the relatively-young age of 34.

This is what we lost: Keith Whitley, singing George Jones, with J. D. Crowe and The New South.

This is "Tennessee Blues".

Just Like Old Times

Considering the epic feud -- or, was it? -- between these two, it's a wonder they ever got back together.

OTOH, perhaps it was inevitable. Many of the bluegrass faithful -- musicians, fans, and historians alike -- consider the Monroe/Flatt/Scruggs iteration of The Blue Grass Boys to be the first-ever bluegrass band.

Bill Monroe disputed that claim. Nevertheless, bluegrass bands revisit and remake the repertoire of this lineup more than any other. And, despite the brilliant lineups that came after, the only one that would cover as much artistic ground was the one featuring Jimmy Martin.

Unfortunately for the music, it is that feat of warp-speed artistic development that the bluegrass community has sought to emulate over the last 30 years -- so much so that most seem to have forgotten what real bluegrass sounds like.

Here, then, is an always-timely reminder: Lester Flatt with Bill Monroe, singing a bluegrass classic that they co-wrote – “Will You Be Loving Another Man?”