Gettin’ that Old-Time Music…

…and proving thereby that young folks can be independent and appreciate tradition. A friend’s young son, not yet eighteen, posted on his Facebook page that he is tentatively planning to take his girlfriend to Merlefest rather than to the Prom at his school. Will is a junior dorm student here in Chattanooga, hometown is Greensboro, NC. His father has posted approvingly of his son’s plans and apparently the young lady is enthusiastic.

Will plays the saxophone, not to my knowledge a commonly included instrument in bluegrass, the staple of Merlefest, but on the festival website I see a fairly eclectic assortment of entertainment. And you don’t have to play bluegrass to enjoy it, as I have found, lacking as I do all musical talent.

Another recruit saved from hip-hop and other disasters.

Bluegrass on the River…

…Tennessee, that is. The annual Riverbend Festival in Chattanooga, TN at Ross’s Landing on the river will have Alison Krauss and the Union Station the night of June 12, 2010. I like Alison Krauss very much, but have found the RB festival too big, too hot and too crowded the past several years. In addition, Ms Krauss and company are appearing on the barge dubbed the “Coca-Cola Stage,” moored just far enough from the bank to diminish any act to Lilliputian size, necessitating huge projection screens so the audience can tell what the performers look like.

Riverbend is ten days long and has several other stages. Many acts, some of them new, more old, will appear at these more audience-friendly venues, so the festival is worth checking out for folks younger and more tolerant than I am.

Musical Irony

I understand that bars and pubs and taverns exist to sell beer and alcohol of all kinds, everything else on the agenda is sales support for adult beverages. And certainly, having done my share, I understand that loud conversation goes hand in mug with serving booze.

None of the above reason and temperate comment helps on a night as we have had, however. Each Sunday night, a shifting group of musicians who love Irish and Gaelic music jam at our favorite neighborhood beer emporium, the Tremont Tavern. No cover, no demands on the audience, just musicians enjoying what they love the best. We love their music, as well. Tonight, two couples at the bar were so engrossed in their loud conversation that we had trouble hearing the acoustic sounds of the Celtic jammers. We eventually moved closer to them, and enjoyed ourselves.

There are two ironies here, since the conversation was so loud, I heard most of what the two couples were saying. They were all very impressed by a band that performed late one night after the big show at Riverbend, the eclectic music festival played out on the Tennessee River at Chatanooga. The Travelin’ McCourys are the sons of Del McCoury, Bluegrass Power, who tour in their own band when not appearing with their father.

The enthusiasm of the folks next to us for McCoury music was a  bit odd since their converstation interfered with some of the root music of Bluegrass. Celtic heritage emigrants carried the bones and foundation of Bluegrass to this country centuries before Bill Monroe and others, including the McCouries, shaped the old harmonies and instrumental riffs into the compelling music that so entranced the two couples at the Tavern. The second irony here is that only applauding the end of each group improvisation by the Celtic musicians interrupted the flow of racous conversation. Why could they not just listen?

Banjo – Scruggs Style

Years ago I had an album of Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, the title escapes me, but I played it a lot.

Earl Scruggs - Two albums

Most of the famous numbers were there, Foggy Mountain Breakdown, Martha White (I listened to the radio for them, also) and the Beverly Hillbillies theme.

I liked the Foggy Mountain Boys, and Mr. Flatt’s vocals, but the playing of Earl Scruggs impressed me the most. So when I came across this extended CD at the library, I brought it home. Two albums combined, Earl Scruggs  – Dueling Banjos, and Earl Scruggs with the Earl Scruggs Revue – Live at Kansas State provide a variety of music. The Dueling Banjo selections are more traditional, while the Kansas State cuts include songs by Bob Dylan  and Joni Mitchell. On the “Dueling Banjos” piece, famous to most folks for its inclusion in the movie Deliverance, at the Conference on Southern Literature last month, we met the Bluegrass Doc, Tom Bibey, who told the story of a dispute between the producers of the movie and the man, Arthur Smith, who wrote the music that so defines Deliverance for the public. Seems the producers were reluctant to pay anybody but Eric Weissberg and Steve Mandell, the musicians who arranged the piece for the movie – Eric Weissberg played the banjo part from behind the young actor who seemed to be playing, Weissberg’s arms extending through the actor’s sleeves. Smith sued, eventually winning his suit, royalties and credit. Doc said Smith answered a question from a friend about how much he was getting by saying, “Everything.” Good on him.

Anyway, I have been listening to some good music, revisiting it after thirty years. Thanks for the story, Doc.

Reprise: Shannon Whitworth

Last year I posted on this singer/songwriter who impressed us at a local tavern. Recently my appreciation for bluegrass has been given a boost by encountering the Country Doc/bluegrass mandolin picker/writer Dr. Tom Bibey. Among other facets of Shannon Whitworth’s music is a strong bluegrass streak. Whitworth lives south of Asheville, NC, in Brevard, a few hours east of here, up in the mountains, a good place for the arts in general.

Picking

She picks a mean banjo, as well as an acoustic guitar. Her band last year used electric guitars and a pedal steel, so the music is eclectic, with a bluegrass flavor.  On her MySpace page she has some audio tracks from her last album, No Expectations, which I downloaded from iTunes and have been playing since last year, more often recently. She also has a Facebook page. I lifted a picture of her working out on her banjo, left.

I see on her page that she will be back here on May 8 at a local venue for drama, alternative music and other good things, the Barking Legs Theater. I  have been meaning to check this place out for years, maybe we can drop in for this fine music.

I don’t believe there will be a golf match on TV to compete, this time, unlike last year.

I also need to check out the Mountain Opry on Signal Mountain, another venue I have been meaning to try for a long time. Odd how you neglect places in your own neck of the woods and then travel elsewhere to be entertained, but that seems to be pretty common, with other folks as well as with me. Live music has a lot to offer, and we are blessed in Chattanooga with quite a bit of it.

My Martin Guitar

I like music…for listening, many kinds, from rock to folk to country to bluegrass to classical. I have no knowledge of how to read, play or understand in any significant way music or how it works. I know it works in my ear, and with two exceptions I have been content not to attempt making it myself. I don’t count singing at church, when at least I was covered by the rest of the congregation and the choir.  My mother, the choir member and graduate of a gentlewoman’s music conservatory, didn’t count my hymn singing as music, either. She would sigh as we left church, and say, “Well, at least, Son, you can say that you made a joyful noise to the Lord.”

Music to Make Your Heart Grow

I am still listening to my most recent music acquisitions, especially to Ricky Skaggs. My favorite cut on the Brand New Strings CD is “My Father’s Son,” the first stanza sets the tone of family, tradition and the past which is also the present:

My history is no secret, it’s written in the stones
In the hill beside this river rests my mother’s gentle bones
And Daddy there beside her, home among his next of kin
And their legacy passed down to me the sons of mountain men.

Roots and tradition are important, more so to me as the years pass.

Bluegrass Kind of Night

Emmylou Harris and the Nash Ramblers at the Ryman

I have had this CD for a long time – it was released in 1992, recorded at the Ryman in 1991. I dug it out  last night from boxes still unpacked from my recent move into my beloved new wife’s house. I went looking for it because of meeting a mandolin picker name of Tom Bibey, whose day job is as a medical doctor,”country doc,” he would say.

Cover Art

He has written a book about picking bluegrass and related adventures, which he hopes to have published soon. We sat at table with this gentleman at the recent Conference on Southern Literature during the Saturday lunch, where he regaled us with talk about music, writing, bluegrass and related fields. He and Clyde Edgerton, another North Carolina boy who writes a bit, were probably the only people there carrying mandolins. Dr. Tom showed me his mandolin, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. He didn’t play, being a little restrained by what he called the “church-like” atmosphere of rarefied literary discourse. We enjoyed his company immensely.

He has a blog, Stories of the Bluegrass Road, where his wit, wisdom and tall stories are to be found.

But back to the Emmylou Harris Ryman recording. A wide-ranging mix including bluegrass, folk, country and rock, Emmylou backed by an acoustic band, the Nash Ramblers. Bill Monroe was present, patron saint of the Bluegrass, and a couple of his many songs were featured. In the liner notes, Emmylou tells of an old Martin guitar she has, given to her by a friend who had lived hard and shared his pain with the guitar, marked with a cigarette burn, among other indignities. Efforts to persuade her to repair the guitar Emmylou has resisted. That guitar is seasoned well. I listened to the Ryman record last night, along with some other wonderful music. Sipped a little brown liquor to warm the clear, bright sounds. Seasoned Well. Life is good.

A couple of more selections I have picked up to add to my bluegrass-style music list on iTunes:

Ralph Stanley, Man of Constant Sorrow, a compilation put together following the release of the Coen

Cover Art for Sorrow

Brothers’ movie, O, Brother, Where Art Thou? and the great success of its soundtrack, which featured Ralph Stanley’s performance of O, Death. This compilation among other musicians features the late Keith Whitley on the O, Death track. On the movie track, the song is sung a capella by Stanley alone.

Cover art for Brand New Strings

Ricky Skaggs with Kentucky Thunder, Brand New Strings. I read that Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley were added to Ralph Stanley’s band after they opened for the Clinch Mountain Boys at some venue or other. Lots of wonderful music on this disc, I can see why Ricky Skaggs has such a reputation for quality and traditionalism.

Bar Band Hell

Late yesterday afternoon, we went to the Tremont Tavern, to listen to a brief performance by a band that would be appearing later at a side stage at Riverbend. The band was backing up a young woman named Shannon Whitworth, from around Asheville, NC, who performed her own songs, bluegrass-flavored roots country with a literate flair. We were looking forward to the show, which turned out to be a promotional idea of the Friends of the Festival, the organizers of Riverbend. Some of the bands appearing at the smaller venues of the festival were persuaded to put in brief appearances at restaurants and bars before they went down to the river.

A few glitches delayed the start of the music, partly due to miscommunication between management and the lone employee out front at the Tavern. In spite of these mischances, the singer and the band cranked up about six o’clock, barely an hour and forty minutes before they had to be miles away in the thick of Riverbend. We were thrilled, as non-riverbend attenders, to hear such a quality of music, however briefly. What we heard was first-rate, although suffering from a sound system which was not quite up to a full band and a solo singer. Not the fault of the group and Whitworth, who soldiered on.

A more annoying problem arose from four braying jackasses at the bar, who were interested only in the golf match playing on the wide-screen television over the bar. Loud conversation punctuated by overloud laughter at their own jokes often drowned out the lyrics of Whitworth’s songs.

Babs felt very concerned for the group, especially Shannon Whitworth, who had responded very kindly to Babs’s enthusiastic greeting when the band arrived. Due to the impromptu nature of this mini-gig, there were no CDs to be bought at Tremont, all the band’s stock being set up at their Riverbend stage.

So this afternoon, I downloaded the CD from iTunes, and am listening now. Very good stuff, with no braying golf jerks in the background. It is a hard life being a musician in venues where happy hour means heavy drinking and raucous conversation.