Monthly Archives: December 2020

This remembrance of Tony Rice is a contribution from Ron Stewart, surely one of the finest bluegrass musicians working today, and perhaps one of the best ever. He currently works with Seldom Scene playing banjo and fiddle, and performs, produces, and mixes on many projects by fellow bluegrass artists. Today he shares his reflection on the passing of Tony Rice.

Having heard of Tony Rice’s passing the morning after Christmas, the last two days have been full of emotions and reflecting. It’s hard to put into words how much Tony’s music has influenced me and so many countless others, and will forever. He was unequalled in so many categories, from singing, to rhythm, to lead guitar, to SONG CHOICES, and the list goes on and on.

I think one of the greatest things about Tony was his ability to make you better without saying a word. I’ve played with many, many great musicians over my lifetime, and there are but a few in this category. He was a true professional, period. He made you feel important and relevant no matter how insignificant you might be.

Case in point, I played several Bluegrass Album Band tribute performances, and I vividly remember one particular show where we all met backstage in a trailer, just to run a few kicks, etc. JD wanted me to do Grey Eagle, so we didn’t go over it as we all knew it from Flatt & Scruggs. Tony came in a bit late to the rehearsal, if you would call it that, and I asked Tony on the way to the stage about Grey Eagle, if he remembered how Benny and Earl did it, that Crowe and I were going to do just fiddle and banjo then band come in etc. He said “Yea Man! It’s my FAVORITE!”

Anyway, when we started it onstage, it kind of got sideways where the band came in, and so Crowe and I held our “spot” and very quickly Tony heard what had happened, all was good, and it was a blast. At the end of that tune, Tony walked all the way over to me at the other end of the stage, put his arm around me and apologized for the intro. He sure didn’t have to do that, and as it turned out, he was the only one who did. That’s who he was. He wanted music right, but he was the first to admit when he messed up, which was rare!

He also called me once while I was driving and left a voicemail. I was in bad service. Anyway, when I got back into service about 20 minutes later, I checked my voicemail, and Tony asked me if I could be in Wisconsin the next day. I was in North Carolina at the time around 7:00 p.m. But the kicker was, he needed me on mandolin….and I seriously thought he was playing a joke on me.

As I listened again, I realized he was serious. So, I called him back. Sure enough he was serious. I asked him who in God’s name told him I could play mandolin, and to my surprise, he said Crowe. Well, I was instantly HOT at Crowe! Not because I didn’t want to do the gig, not because I couldn’t play mandolin at all, and not because it didn’t mean the world that Crowe told him that, but because I hadn’t played one in like 5 years!

I told Tony I hadn’t played mandolin in 5 years at all hardly, and he said, “Crowe says you can! That’s good enough for me!” Needless to say, I did the gig, drove like 90 hours it seemed, but it was one of the most fun gigs I’ve ever played. The first thing he asked me backstage was, “What are you comfortable with of the Unit stuff on mandolin?” All of that long story to say again, a true professional. He cared what I was comfortable with, because he knew I was the one out on a limb somewhat.

So many stories that can and will be shared by many people, and much, much more important than mine, but that’s what I took away from Tony. He wasn’t just the world’s best singer and guitar player. He cared about the people around him onstage, and he made you better. Béla said it best, when he said playing with Tony was like he made you free to do whatever you were capable of, and more than you knew you could.

I still have a drawing I made of Tony after the first time I saw him live at the KFC festival in Louisville in 1985. I thought he was the coolest, most professional guy I had ever seen. I was a sophomore in high school, and I still feel that way over three decades later.

My heart goes out to all of his family. Rest in peace, my friend, and thank you for the great music you shared, but most importantly your friendship.

This upcoming weekend’s edition of Into The Blue, the most widely syndicated bluegrass radio program in the United States, will feature a special tribute to the late Tony Rice. Hosted by our own Terry Herd, the first hour of the show will include many recorded examples from Tony’s four decade career, along with insight and commentary from Tim Stafford of Blue Highway.

Terry says what we’re all thinking in describing this special edition of the show.

“Who in our industry hasn’t been touched or influenced by Tony Rice? He was the gold standard by which all guitar players since have been measured. I think Ricky Skaggs said it best, ‘Tony was the single most influential acoustic guitar player in the last 50 years.’ I’m honored to be joined by Tim Stafford, who literally wrote the book on Tony Rice – co-author of Still Inside, The Tony Rice Story. Tim articulates Tony’s contribution in this hour long broadcast, in a way that only he can.

It’s my hope Tony’s fans will enjoy this tribute, and those who have yet to discover his amazing gift will realize what a giant he was and always will be.”

Here’s a snippet from the show…

Into The Blue is now in its 28th year of syndication. Launched in 1992 from Oregon, Herd relocated his headquarters to Nashville in 1996. In 2000 he was tapped by Sirius Satellite radio to create their bluegrass channel, where he served as Format Manager and host until April 2006, while continuing to program and host his own show. During that time he assembled the existing team of broadcasters including Kyle Cantrell, Chris Jones, Ned Luberecki, and Joey Black who appear on Bluegrass Junction to this day.

The show airs on 130+ commercial broadcast stations in the US, and you can find one near you on their web site. Many of these affiliates also stream their programming online.

You can hear Into The Blue on Sunday evening (January 3) on WSM online from 8:00 – 11:00 p.m. (EST).

This will be extremely short, just as I hope and pray the end of 2020 is. I was going to list all of the most positive developments of 2020, and that was even shorter than this column is. 

Instead I’ve composed a song about the year. Since this isn’t a video column, I’ll just need to describe it for you. It’s relatively simple, and I just call it 2020. If you know some basic guitar chords, form an A minor chord, but then move that whole chord up one fret (do not use a capo). Then begin playing in waltz time and sing the following lyrics (with feeling):

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!

Happy New Year!

The IBMA Foundation has produced a video encouraging possible grant recipients to apply for their new Arnold Shultz Fund, created this year to support activities increasing participation of people of color in bluegrass music. 

Grants are available to non-profit and governmental agencies for educational efforts as well as participatory activities for young people.

Such activities may include but are not limited to:

• Programs designed to encourage participation in bluegrass music by people of color of any age (e.g. producing or distributing an educational bluegrass video, creating an online bluegrass workshop designed for people of color, bluegrass mentor program, etc.).
• Bluegrass performance outreach programs to populations that are underrepresented in bluegrass.
• Scholarship or expense reimbursement for people of color to attend a bluegrass music camp, take bluegrass music lessons, attend a school or program focused on bluegrass music or the bluegrass industry (e.g., music business), etc.
• Funding for an instrument or instrument lending program, particularly if it benefits people of color with economic challenges that keep them from being able to own an instrument and play bluegrass music.

Application forms are available online. They must be received by December 31 for 2021 grants.

This reflection on the importance of Tony Rice in contemporary bluegrass is a contribution from Reed Jones, bass player and songwriter with Audie Blaylock and Redline. We thank him for these insights.

The evolving story of bluegrass music is punctuated by defining moments. Some of its independent clauses are extensions of the previous idea, and they foreshadow and link up with the next brilliantly-chosen turn of phrase. They overlap in ways that keep it in the family and sustain its deep traditions, which often means adaptation and change. Think of the departure of Flatt and Scruggs from Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys to spin their own beautifully-crafted bluegrass tale, or how Jimmy Martin left Monroe’s outfit to later join forces with Bobby and Sonny Osborne, the latter of which also briefly featured in Monroe’s ongoing musical saga.

You also have the crossing and concurrent storyline of the Stanley Brothers, who obviously read their share of Monroe, but whose pen scratched down meaningful volumes informed by a slightly different, yet equally ancient tonality. And while there remain many others who contributed their own meaningful lines by putting musical pen to paper and baring their souls, few deserve the reverie typically reserved for the first generation like Tony Rice does. But this is no historical analysis, although the context is helpful in understanding the greatest guitarist bluegrass and acoustic music has ever known. This is about defining moments…and punctuation…and Tony Rice. He’s not only earned several chapters in the bluegrass history book, he accentuates and expands it, especially when placed within the longer arc of its story.

Tony Rice wielded “The Antique,” his 1935 Martin D-28 formerly owned by Clarence White, with the staying power of Shakespeare, the lyricism of Joyce, and the wit of Twain. In the same way the strokes of their pens told humanity’s story, bound it together in universal experience, and simultaneously helped form its future by expanding the boundaries of language, the strokes of Tony’s flatpick glued our music together and grew it with masterful expression. Informed by the past, he not only forged headlong into the musical future, he carefully and intentionally shaped it.

On a micro-level, he punctuated every song he played with the force of his unique rhythm and timing, while on a macro-level he was one of bluegrass’ few cataclysmic game-changers, putting a period on the end of the previous sentence and pushing the plot forward and deeper. As millions of needles followed the grooves of his records, he moved the needle with the same violent magnitude of Earl Scruggs, yet he did it with the calm beauty of his measured and graceful hands, efficiently navigating the strings and fretboard in the same way he did his ever-evolving musical landscape. And so in these moments of great loss, we are reminded of both the overarching and the personal, and how like Tony’s music, they cannot be so easily partitioned.

My associations with Tony were limited, but try telling that to my heart. His intro to Muleskinner Blues instantaneously changed my life at the age of 16, and caused me to drive an hour one-way to the nearest store that sold that recording. There was no Amazon Prime, no streaming, and there was no way I could wait to devour that album. I was on fire, and with that comes a compounding sense of urgency. When I put the CD in my car stereo and promptly set its volume to “destroy,” everything I knew about the guitar was exactly that: destroyed. The kickoff to that record’s opener, Cold On the Shoulder, was devastating.

I’m not sure I got past that song the entire hour’s drive home, and I bet the engine in that car is still whining in the key of Bb. In that moment, Tony did what he had been doing since he began publicly putting shell to string: changing the world. And do not be mistaken, that is not hyperbole, my world literally changed, much like the acoustic guitar world changed, and whether or not it understood, the entire music world changed, too.

When I was graduating from college with a degree in history, I was required to write a 25-page original research paper, so I chose to research The Bluegrass Album and how it helped re-orient bluegrass music in a more traditional direction, while its individual players were simultaneously expanding its boundaries. I had a lengthy phone conversation with Tony in the wee hours of the morning, because as he said, “I keep vampire hours.” That conversation confirmed what his music had been telling me for years, that he was a deep and thoughtful well of knowledge, passion, and genius. He was so arresting and articulate, establishing him in my mind as the bard of bluegrass and acoustic music.

The words he spoke came out in fully-developed paragraphs, punctuation and all. He rendered my prepared questions useless; he needn’t be led, only heard and heeded. Terrible as that paper was in hindsight, its existence did warrant a citation in his official biography, and seeing my name in the back of that book means more to me than I can express. When I missed his call returning my initial request for an interview, he left me a voicemail that I can never erase. “Hey Reed, this is Tony Rice…”

I saw Tony many times in concert in many different configurations. As a member of Audie Blaylock and Redline, I played on the same bill as him and shared some moments with him backstage. I remember him walking up to Audie, putting down the case that held “The Antique,” and hugging my boss’ neck. He asked Audie about his band, and was the consummate gentleman to me. I photographed his guitar and tried not to appear awkward and intimidated by our interaction, all while trying not to pee down my leg. At least that last part was a success.

To be sure, I am a nobody; but in that sense, I am everybody. Everyone who ever interacted with Tony became immediately aware of his singularity. His singing, his playing, his obsessive attention to detail, the way he dressed, how he carried himself, his song selection, his tone, his arrangement and interpretation, the very idea of him…it changed the acoustic guitar, it changed music, and it changed me.

If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance it changed you, too. And so while there are many that can share more personal remembrances and tributes, people that knew him well, that shared the studio or stage with him and called him friend, the mark of his greatness is found in the profundity of his impact on people that didn’t know him in that way; although his music would indicate otherwise. This is why the loss feels so great to so many. His gifts became like the furniture in our homes. It decorated the walls of our lives, it gave us comfort and rest, support and beauty…but we often neglect to take constant note of its presence. We become used to it, and now it’s gone.

Indeed, Tony punctuated our music, its history and our lives, but not all punctuation has the same purpose or impact. Commas are not as strong as semi-colons, yet even their potency has its limits. The colon has a certain resoluteness, but it’s often a signal to what comes next, and in doing so lacks a definitive resolution. As does the exclamation point, which invariably leaves you wanting more; while a question mark always begs an answer or further contemplation. A period, though, is so coldly final and settled, and that’s what has me so deeply unsettled with the passing of Tony Rice.

For the last several years, Tony has been out of the spotlight. He has been unable to perform, yet the fact that he was still with us was of some comfort. It was like an ellipsis…to be continued. There was comfort in that, there was hope. Tony’s passing on Christmas day placed a decidedly pointed period on a mesmerizingly-bright career. Yet that period sturdily secures and solidifies what we already knew, but didn’t always recognize while he was with us: that Tony Rice has taken his place alongside the storied body of work he created. He has transcended this earthly life in the same way that his mastery and music continues to help us transcend its sorrows; and so to that end, the period, while real and painful, does not have the final say.

Tony Rice will continue to be my, and countless others’, greatest musical influence, and will continue to change worlds…period.

Many thanks to the Byrne family of Ireland, who run the bluegrass concert promotion company, My Grass Is Blue. For the past several years they have brought US bands over to tour in Ireland and England, and had expanded for 2020 to book acts in Europe as well, though COVID-19 put the kibosh on that for this year.

They put together this lovely remembrance of the bluegrass, old time, and traditional country artists who passed away during this past strange twelve months.

Nicely done!

My Grass Is Blue is moving into 2021 with high hopes, looking forward to presenting a tour by Kristy Cox, and another by Seth Mulder & Midnight Run in 2022.

Pete Wernick has been part of the grass music scene since the early 1970s, when he became active as a college student in the burgeoning progressive bluegrass world in New York. As an instructor for banjo, he earned the sobriquet of Dr. Banjo, a reference to his doctorate in Sociology, as well as his skill in making complex musical matters easily digested by students.

His later recordings with Hot Rize cemented his place in bluegrass history, along with his many solo projects, but his most important contributions may be measured as having been his work with the International Bluegrass Music Association. A founding member of the organization, he served as its first President for 15 years. He is a fierce protector of bluegrass and banjo music against all comers, and we are delighted to share his most recent battle in defense of recently-deceased bluegrass hero, Tony Rice.

Today’s dispute concerns Relix magazine, a longstanding publication whose focus is live music, especially that improvisational in nature, which got its start as a newsletter for Grateful Dead fans in 1974. These days they cover the wider jamband scene, including jamgrass bands, and the magazine is widely respected for their writing on not only live music, but also photography, videography, and their profiles of artists, event producers, and other industry professionals.

Sadly, their December 27 obituary for Tony Rice was error-ridden, and contained a number of tasteless and unsuitable comments. After seeing it posted online, Wernick fired off a letter to their editor.

To Folks at Relix,

I hope you will see fit to amend ASAP your obit of the late great Tony Rice.

The most objectionable parts of the obit (skip to the last item to see the most inappropriate, insulting mistakes):

nifty* vocal stylings, bluegrass titan Tony Rice passed on Christmas Day at the age of 69. He is survived by his wife, daughter and two brothers.

In addition to his Grammy Award-winning work with J.D Crowe’s The New South, Hall** was inducted into the International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2013 by Peter Rowan and Sam Bush.

Enjoying his natural comedic timing***, fans praised Rice for his speech, which even included some manufactured drama as he briefly faked a bout of laryngitis.****

* To call the singing of one of bluegrass music’s all-time great singers “nifty vocal stylings* is trivializing. His singing wasn’t “nifty,” it was heartfelt, soulful, and communicative. Would you call Elton John’s or Tina Turner’s or Trey Anastasio’s singing “nifty?”

** This is one of two times you used “Hall” instead of “Rice” to refer to the subject of the article. The other occurs later in the obit. Proofread!!

*** I was there, and you can watch it for yourself. Tony was not known for being funny on stage. He was pretty dry, and whatever comedic timing he may have had was far overshadowed by his nuanced high-chops, and highly musical guitar playing.

**** This is the most mistaken and in fact insulting of all the things I’m pointing out. Your writer missed the point by 180 degrees. Tony had lost his ability to sing, and could barely talk except in a quiet growl for a good 15+ years before his death. At his Hall of Fame induction, he amazed and electrified the large audience by — with great effort — speaking in (mostly) his former, absent voice. For many in the audience, they’d not heard Tony’s “real” voice in so long that there was a powerful response — audible on the recording of his speech.

This was absolutely NOT a case of “faking laryngitis.” There was nothing funny about it, it was an extremely moving communication by a formerly great singer, using special techniques he had learned to use with difficulty, to allow his natural “former” speaking voice to be heard, instead of the growl his fans had been hearing for so long. Many compared it to his voice “coming back from the dead.” No one was laughing, in fact there were people crying at such a moving display of determination.

By your:

• • giving his name entirely wrong — twice in the article,
  • calling his great vocals merely “nifty,” and
  • completely missing the import and impact of his speech, and acting like it was comedic, and “faked” — in pretty much his last public appearance…

…. you have in fact shown a carelessness for Tony Rice’s dignity and greatness that amounts to an insult to his memory. It makes you look uninformed, and not worthy of treating a musical great appropriately. I read Relix regularly, and this is the first instance I’ve seen of something so very shameful for Relix, a supposedly “serious” music publication.

I hope you will retract these misstatements and amend the article just as soon as you can.

People who knew Tony Rice far better than your writer will surely think less of your publication when they read these mistakes!

Sincerely,
Pete Wernick

“Dr. Banjo” — bluegrass musician
Former President, International Bluegrass Music Association

To Relix’s credit, they did swiftly amend the article, but failed to correct some of the worst aspects of the obituary.

The good Doctor swung quickly back into action.

Dear Relix folks,

I really like your magazine, and have twice performed at your NYC offices, with the video shown on your site…

… and I’m glad you’ve gotten rid of the most egregious problem in the Tony Rice article, that I wrote to you about a few hours ago — but —
some important errors remain, and I really hope you feel they are deserving of your IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. They are right in the lead of the article!

Or do you not care too much about music greats if they’re “only bluegrass” and never plugged in their guitar?

Please check these carefully, for the sake of respect to those deserving:

*nifty vocal stylings, bluegrass titan Tony Rice passed on Christmas Day at the age of 69. He is survived by his wife, daughter and two brothers.

In addition to his Grammy Award-winning work with J.D Crowe’s The New South, Hall** was inducted into the International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2013 by Peter Rowan and Sam Bush.

Enjoying his natural comedic timing and sage wisdom**, fans praised Rice for his speech.

* “nifty” is cheap, faint praise for one of bluegrass music’s most respected and top-selling singers. Who else would you call “nifty,” Otis Redding? Frank Sinatra? How about “influential” or “admired” or some such?

** His name is NOT “Hall.” I already pointed out both of these items and they’re still there.

*** As mentioned, it’s good you excised “faking laryngitis” — a fully ridiculous comment, but pointing out his “comedic timing,” which I doubt anyone remembers from that speech, while ignoring the truly dumbfounding and now-legendary “speaking in a clear version of the voice that hadn’t been heard for over a decade” aspect. Listen to the video you posted if you want more info about that!

Please ladies and gentlemen, take your journalistic responsibility seriously, and clean up ASAP this still-disrespectful, clearly unknowledgeable treatment of one of bluegrass music’s all-time greats, now being deeply mourned!

Thanks for listening,

Pete Wernick

founder Hot Rize band (Colorado bluegrass)
former President, International Bluegrass Music Association

As of this morning, the items Pete highlights in his second missive remain in the online obituary. He has shared his correspondence in the hope that other bluegrass lovers, particularly those who read Relix, will likewise share their disappointment with them over these slights.

Perhaps that will spur them to correct what could become part of the historical record.

Do better, Relix!

Al Murphy, a noted old time fiddler from Iowa City, was raised in a family of fiddlers, and mentored by Otis McCray who had played fiddle in Iowa since the 1880s. Folks in the region revere Murphy not only for his fine music, but also as a repository of Midwestern tunes, many of them unknown outside the region.

Al is the subject of a new short film from Stoney Lonesome Productions, a New York-based company which is the brainchild of old time banjo player, Andrew Cartoun. We have featured a number of his clever shorts here in the past, several of which harken back to the days of silent movies, a vibe that he captures very effectively in black and white.

This new film is called The Story of Hogs In The Cornfield, and finds Andrew and Al in an interview setting discussing Murphy’s 2017 self-produced album of that name. Hogs In The Cornfield was recorded to capture a number of old time tunes native to eastern Iowa and the midwest in general, all previously undocumented on disc.

Like most of his work, Cartoun is distributing this one free of charge through Vimeo, and you can watch it below. It runs just over 30 minutes in length, and will provide a fascinating overview of Al’s career, and the old time fiddle traditions in Murphy’s part of the world. Anyone with an interest in tune collection will surely want to take this in.

Hogs In The Cornfield is available on CD from Al Murphy’s bandcamp page. The recording was sponsored in part by the Iowa Arts Council.

You can peruse all of Andrew Cartoun’s work on Vimeo.

Many thanks to Danny “Hootenany” Clark with The Bluegrass Bus Museum for sharing this vintage video from California’s Grass Valley Festival back in 1988.

It features The Tony Rice Unit playing an extended version of Me and My Guitar, the title track of Tony’s 1986 album for Rounder Records. The song is one written by James Taylor, transformed into a bluegrass classic by Rice and his compatriots.

Those who recall seeing the Unit back then, recall that it was common for them to jam out on this number, as you can see in the video below.

If you didn’t recognize them all, the Unit here included much younger versions of Tony, his brother Wyatt, Jimmy Gaudreau on mandolin, Ricky Simpkins on fiddle, and Mark Schatz on bass.

Thanks Danny!

The night Tony Rice first made grown men cry was in September 2013. In a speech marking his induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Rice labored through his early remarks in the raspy, broken voice we had become used to over the previous 19 years.

Then he paused, asked for God’s help, and talked in a clear, normal voice. You could hear the gasps. I wasn’t the only person in tears that night. In fact, I chose these words for the headline on my Bluegrass Today awards show wrapup: The Night Grown Men Cried.

Saturday night, as word of his death spread through the bluegrass world and beyond, grown men cried for Tony Rice again.

Thousands and thousands of words will be written about him in the next week or so. I’d like to ask that you ignore a couple of them: “perhaps” and “arguably,” as in perhaps or arguably the best, most influential bluegrass guitar player ever. Those words are simply wasted space. Tony Rice WAS the most influential guitar player bluegrass and acoustic music has ever heard, doing for the guitar what Earl Scruggs did for the banjo. The best. Period. End of argument.

But don’t take my word for it.

Listen to Jim VanCleve: “The man is on the Mount Rushmore of bluegrass and acoustic guitar, and his influence is impossible to overstate.”

Or Paul Schiminger, executive director of the International Bluegrass Music Association: “His musical impact was of ‘Mount Rushmore’ proportions.”

Get the picture? Those of us fortunate enough to hear Rice sing and play, will talk about crossing his path for as long as we are able to express those memories. Those who didn’t get to hear him sing could take comfort in hearing him pick. And when he couldn’t sing or pick – even superheroes lose the race against time – we kept up hope that he would resume playing soon.

Rice, himself, gave us hope that night seven years ago in Raleigh. As he talked in a voice that was clear and strong, it seemed possible, even likely, that he would soon be able to sing again after a 19-year break. Alas, it was not to be.

And after a long stretch of not playing, when it seemed like we were destined not to hear his guitar again, we’d hear little suggestions that maybe, just maybe, he was coming back. Even after his friend and biographer, Tim Stafford, said onstage at Gettysburg a while back that Tony would probably never play again, there was a glimmer of hope.

That’s another astonishing fact about Tony Rice. He had the grace and knowledge to know when to let go. It’s hard to do, and many folks in the public eye stay too long. It’s hard to watch. But not Tony. He sang and played with such seemingly little effort, and truth be told when his hands and voice betrayed him, he could easily have wowed audiences with 40 percent of his skills. But Tony knew better. Fortunately, he leaves us with recordings and memories that will live on.

Here are some of those memories, shared by his colleagues and acolytes:

Kenny Smith: “When I first moved to Tennessee in 1987, the first show I saw at the Station Inn was the Tony Rice Unit. I got there early and sat right up front. Within five minutes of the kick off, Mr. Rice schooled me on rhythm, tone, economy of motion, dynamics, improvisation, tuning, chord substitution, etc. The list goes on and on. I remember walking away that night so inspired to learn the guitar in a deeper way. I pretty much started over….Thank you Tony Rice for the music, memories and inspiration that will last a lifetime.”

Darin Aldridge: “My heart is heavy today to know that the world has lost one of music’s greatest treasures. There’s so much I’d like to say but my words can’t seem to be found. Tony, your music will live on for generations to come, and your music will always speak volumes.”

Sierra Hull: “His music moved beyond the stretches of imagination – so original, beautiful, strong, fearless, and free. His singing, playing, song choices and arrangements captivated me from the first note I ever heard of Church Street Blues as an 8-year-old girl. He made me want to be an artist.”

Sierra was just 12 when she met Tony for the first time, after Alison Krauss invited both of them to play with her at the Grand Ole Opry. “As I arrived to the artist entrance, they told my family that we would be sharing a dressing room with Tony. I was both excited and nervous to get to meet him. The first thing he did when I entered the room was hand me that legendary D28 guitar. I couldn’t believe it. Who does that? I was just a kid! But he did.”

Accolades came in from the country music world as well.

Kenny Chesney: “When I was in college I played a lot of music with a couple friends of mine Shawn Lane and Marcus Smith. Every Wednesday night we played a place called the Down Home in Johnson City, TN. Whether it was Green Light On The Southern, which was the first song we ever played, Four Strong Winds, or anything off the Skaggs/ Rice album… his music was always a staple of our set. Tony Rice inspired so many, including a kid like me from East Tennessee who was in awe of the way he sang and played Me And My Guitar. I’ll never forget seeing him sing that at the IBMA bluegrass festival in Owensboro, KY. It’s printed in my brain forever! Rest In Peace Tony Rice.”

LeeAnn Womack: “Tony Rice… One of my very favorites. I’ve gotten so much enjoyment over the years from listening to his records, bootleg cassette tapes, and finding gems on YouTube (look for the MerleFest stuff). Thank you Jill Douglas for introducing me. Thank you, Tony, for the music.”

Alison Krauss: “We all mourn the loss of our one and only Tony Rice. We’re so grateful for what he gave us and left with us. The highest peak.
RIP.”

Still no word on funeral arrangements. We understand from the family that North Carolina requires an autopsy whenever someone dies alone, to determine the cause of death. Date and time for burial will be set afterwards.

Serving as a soundtrack for a film set in Appalachia during rough and tumble times some 80 years prior think Cold Mountain or O Brother, Where Art Thou — The Mountain Minor boasts a distinct air of authenticity by way of a nearly 40 song set. Performed by a variety of accredited artists that share an affinity for these archival artifacts, the newly-released soundtrack album serves to enhance the film’s narrative and bring the story of a rugged mountain family to full fruition. Indeed, each of these offerings could easily be mistaken as authentic field recordings enhanced by the benefit of modern technology. Elizabeth LaPrelle and Asa Nelson’s a cappella read of Young Emily (Edmund in the Lowlands Low) offers but one example of that reverent approach, one that resonates within the abundance of traditional tunes represented here. 

Given the setting, all of these tracks adhere to a vintage template, one that’s often bare-boned but also affecting all the same. Spare arrangements inform nearly every entry, with instrumentation that mostly consists of little more than a solitary fiddle, a few plucked strings, and/or a solitary vocal that sources its story from mountain memories. The call and response of Old Jimmy Sutton provides a rare celebratory stance that provides a respite from the heroics and hardships endured by the hardy men, women, and families that pioneered and eventually prospered in the wilderness environs of Kentucky, West Virginia, Carolina, and East Tennessee. 

Trevor McKenzie, the individual chiefly responsible for scoring the soundtrack, has taken a knowing approach to the material, enlisting others with a shared affinity for its origins — Dan Gellert, Ma Crow, Hazel Pasley, Jonathan Bradshaw, Warren Waldron, Amy Cogan Clay, Judy Waldron, and Mike Oberst, chief among them. Their contributions range from colorful narratives such as Darlin Corey and a lively Cripple Creek, to the stark and solemn hymnal, I’m Going to a City (Where the Roses Never Fade), the illuminating instrumentals Sally in the Turnip Patch, Across the Ohio, and Ever Been to Ohio, and a simple picked interlude like Little Birdie and Shakin’ Down the Acorns. 

Taken in tandem, each of these performances contribute to a musical tapestry that defines a specific time and place in the annals of American music, and, more specifically, a sound that’s still revered today. One would be hard-pressed to uncover a more defining musical manuscript.

Photo © G Milo Photography/MiloFarineauPhotography.com

Tony Rice, surely the most influential guitarist and vocalist in the history of bluegrass music, died on Christmas morning. He was 69 years of age, and died swiftly without pain.

Tony changed forever the way bluegrass guitar is played, both as a lead and an accompaniment instrument. Audiences saw hints of his genius during his stint with Bluegrass Alliance in the early 1970s, but it appeared fully formed with J.D. Crowe & The New South in 1975 on their classic recording for Rounder Records, known colloquially by its catalog number, 0044.

Those of us fortunate to be alive at that time will clearly remember the first time we heard it. By the end of the banjo intro to Old Home Place, it was obvious that something new and different was going on. Rice’s guitar filled the track from top to bottom and side to side with an aggressive rhythm style that brought together the power of Jimmy Martin and Del McCoury, with the dexterity and grace of Clarence White. It propelled the band forward like nothing we had heard before.

And then he started singing! His deep baritone voice crackled with soul, and transformed that Dillards song into bluegrass majesty. Over his multi-decade career, Tony Rice’s voice became a favorite in and around bluegrass, a rare treat combined with someone of such singular instrumental capacity.

He showed those skills on Old Home Place as well, laying down a blistering half-break near the end of the song that had flatpickers scratching their heads in wonder. There was more throughout the record, and on the many others released over a career that endured for 40 years, until arthritis took away his ability to play proficiently, just as a nervous system condition had robbed him of his voice a decade earlier.

Though not the first, nor the only musician to play lead guitar in bluegrass, Rice’s contribution might well be compared to that of Earl Scruggs, whose banjo picking revolutionized the music when he joined Bill Monroe in 1945. These days, solos are expected from every guitar player in bluegrass, and there is no bluegrass guitarist alive who wouldn’t claim Tony as a primary influence.

Shortly after participating in 0044, Tony left Crowe’s band and moved to California to be a part of David Grisman’s then-experimental new sound, blending gypsy jazz with elements of bluegrass. Rice was as vital a part in crafting that new style as Scruggs had been in defining Monroe’s thirty years before. After leaving Grisman, Tony released a string of critically-acclaimed albums with his own Tony Rice Unit, mimicking many parts of Grisman’s “Dawg music,” but with a different, more subdued and jazz-oriented vibe.

He also appeared on such seminal projects as Skaggs & Rice in 1980, still among the best-selling bluegrass records of all time, his own solo project, Church Street Blues in 1983, and what many feel is his most-treasured and definitive work, Manzanita, in 1979. Not to mention the series of albums under the title of The Bluegrass Album Band, alongside fellow legends like Doyle Lawson, J.D. Crowe, Bobby Hicks, and Todd Phillips that set in stone what the contemporary bluegrass style was all about in the 1980s.

It would be difficult to overstate the importance of Tony Rice in bluegrass and acoustic string music. Suffice it to say, that absent his participation, it would sound far different than it does today. A monumental figure in the music, we will not see the likes of him again for some time.

No details on funeral arrangements have yet been announced.

R.I.P., Tony Rice.

Celebrated Nashville songwriter Tom T. Hall was surprised yesterday by his son, Dean, with a new car for Christmas.

Dean, who has run Tom T. Hall Enterprises since his dad retired, showed up at Fox Hollow with a new Chevrolet Equinox as a gift. Long time fans will remember that Tom T. had served as a spokesman for Chevy Trucks in the mid-1970s. So he is a Chevy man for life.

At age 84, Tom T. no longer drives himself, but he is sure to enjoy riding in his new car. Nice job, Dean!

Cup O’Joe, consisting of Northern Ireland’s Agnew family, plus in-law David Benedict, have released a socially-distanced video of one of the most popular secular Christmas songs of the 20th century. It’s Holly Jolly Christmas, which appeared in the 1964 Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer television special, sung by Burl Ives.

The song is led here by the eldest Agnew sibling, Benjamin, with support from his brother Reuben on guitar, and sister Tabitha on banjo and jingle bells, while Benedict adds his mandolin. Tabitha and David, now married, live part of the year in the US and part in Ireland. Since they are in South Carolina for Christmas, they had to complete this video transcontinentally.

The Joes offer a swinging version of this Johnny Marks number, with more than a touch of gypsy jazz.

Remember that by following this link, you can see all the bluegrass Christmas music we have highlighted this year.

Another classic bluegrass Christmas song is Beautiful Star of Bethlehem, popularized by The Stanley Brothers in the 1950s, and which remained in the Ralph Stanley set list until his passing.

Here is a newly-recorded version courtesy of The Burnett Sisters with Colin Ray, who do a lovely job on this one written by R. Fisher Boyce and Adger M. Pace in the early years of the prior century.

The video was recorded as a part of the Mountain Home Music Virtual Appalachian Christmas Card Concert, a benefit show raising money for Hospitality House of Boone and Santa’s Toy Box, which the label has done for 23 years. They ask that if you enjoy the video, please consider a donation using this simple online form.

Watch to the end for a Christmas surprise from The Burnetts.

Remember that by following this link, you can see all the bluegrass Christmas music we have highlighted this year.

Pandemic or not, everyone is busy this time of year, so I’ll get straight to the point:

Swing For The Fences, from Phil Leadbetter and the All Stars of Bluegrass, is my favorite bluegrass project of 2020.

There were many outstanding projects, of course, but to my ear, none reached quite as high as this one on the Pinecastle label.

It’s not just the expert picking – what else would you expect from all-stars such as Leadbetter, Jason Burleson and Alan Bibey, with guest fiddling from Stuart Duncan and Tim Crouch – the amazing vocals from Steve Gulley, Robert Hale and Bibey, or the selection of 10 stellar songs.

Sometimes, a project is just perfect for the times. This collection, in a time of hardship and loss, hope and redemption, is just the right project for 2020. The 10 songs hit all of the emotional touchstones. Great music does that.

That said, this powerful CD is bittersweet, and hard for me to listen to, knowing the backstory. Shortly after the band was in the studio, and before the CD was released, bass player and singer Steve Gulley died of pancreatic cancer. It still doesn’t seem real.

The pain is almost palpable on Yesterday’s Gone. The song has a fairy tale beginning – once upon a time there was tomorrow – that gets dashed on the rocks of reality – tomorrow became yesterday, and now it’s gone. The duet also has the distinction of being the last of many songs that Steve and his wife Debbie Gulley sang together in the studio. And if that’s not enough, Leadbetter makes his resonator guitar cry, as if in tribute to his best buddy. 

Other songs seemed tailor-made for this awful year, including The Hurtin’ When You Go and Times Are Tough on the downside, and the optimistic I’m Gonna Make It After All, No End To This Road, which implores us to make the best of things while we can, and the energetic title cut, which features some of Uncle Phil’s most-inventive playing.

For good measure, there’s a high speed Gospel number, Ready and Waiting, with a message to not take anything for granted, made especially poignant by Steve’s untimely passing. And a glorious instrumental, Avery Stokes, that puts each of these talented pickers front and center. Steve was a devout Christian, so there’s comfort in knowing that he was ready when his time came.

There’s something here for everyone, even for those not fortunate enough to know and love Steve Gulley, and to have shared his orbit for a while. The project is a powerful reminder that music heals, even if sometimes it makes you cry. 

Leadbetter and the All Stars are already planning their next record, with Gena Britt on bass. They’ll have their hands full, not just because Steve is gone but because this project is so, so strong.

But All Stars are stars for a reason. They dig in. They deliver under pressure. I wouldn’t bet against them when the “record” button lights up.

Happy Day before Christmas, everybody!

We hope that you have all reached your final holiday destination, and will have the opportunity to spend time with those most dear to you.

Let’s spend our Christmas Eve enjoying some of the Christmas music videos created this season by bluegrass artists. Please check back throughout the day for several examples from the 2020 season.

First up are Jake Workman, guitarist with Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder, and his lovely wife, Rebekah. Before moving to Nashville from Utah, Jake and Rebekah regularly performed as a duo together, something they get to do less often now that they have a little one at home.

They have prepared a medley of three especially beautiful carols, I Wonder as I Wander, O Holy Night, and Oh Come Oh Come Emanuel, played on fiddle and guitar.

Enjoy…

Bluegrass Christmas, the recent holiday album from Jussi Syren and the Groundbreakers, has been named as the 2020 Christmas Album of the Year by the Indpendent radio stations of Finland.

Syren, who leads the group as mandolinist and vocalist, chose a mix of Christmas favorites and new songs of his own to make up this record, which also made it to #4 on the sales chart for Finland’s biggest record store, Levykauppa Äx (Record Shop X).

Jussi tells us that while he believed in this project from the start, it was a welcome surprise to receive this recognition.

“Receiving the Christmas album of the year award means a lot to our group, and to Bluelight Records. It also brings recognition to bluegrass music in general. The album has been noticed by the mainstream media, and has got lots of airplay world wide. A wonderful kick-off for 2021!”

This honor was shared with another artist, Tessa Virta, and chosen based on the high level of musicianship shown, and the original and genuine approach to Christmas music the group shows on this project.

Along with Jussi, The Groundbreakers are Tauri Oksala on banjo, J.P. Putkonen on guitar, and Tero Mäenpää on bass. Nelli Ikola also joins them on fiddle.

Congratulations to Syren and the band!

Based on the album art for the latest album from Bluedust, Travelin’, the casual viewer would easily assume the band is an up-and-coming group in the modern traditional vein, hailing from North Carolina or Virginia. Five men holding instruments, gathered around a lonesome railroad track – I knew exactly what I was getting just from looking at the cover. Well, maybe not.

To my surprise upon opening up the liner notes and doing a little research, the members of Bluedust hail from in and around Milan, Italy, and are steeped in straight-ahead traditional bluegrass of the Flatt and Scruggs variety. On Travelin’, they offer versions of a number of jam standards, as well as a few cuts drawn from other genres, all performed with skilled instrumentation and an obvious knowledge of the foundations of traditional bluegrass.

The album opens with an enjoyable version of Fox on the Run, guided by strong banjo from Dino Barbe. The band shows off tight harmonies and an enthusiastic approach to their music. Barbe does a fine job channeling Earl Scruggs on Down the Road, which also features solid instrumental breaks from Josh Villa (mandolin) and Tony Spezzano (lead guitar). Both this song and the group’s version of Roll on Buddy are likely crowd-pleasers during live performances – you can hear their passion for the music in their playing.

Other traditional songs that Bluedust tackle handily include a cut of John Henry reminiscent of the speedy Johnson Mountain Boys arrangement, again demonstrating fine harmonies, and an earnest, bouncy Poor Ellen Smith. Though not a standard, Kentucky Lincoln Breakdown, an original banjo tune with plenty of drive from Colton Powers, fits nicely with the group’s renditions of all of these classic numbers.

Bluedust steps outside the bluegrass world for several tracks, with one of the highlights being a rocking Johnny B. Goode. There are hints of the Jim & Jesse version here, but it’s overall more driving thanks to Barbe’s banjo and strong bass and rhythm guitar. The group also does a fine job with Mama Tried, capturing the opening and the loping melody spot-on, and with Bob Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right, which speeds up the original but still contains hints of its gentle folk sound.

Though Bluedust has toured extensively in Europe, including opening for several popular American bluegrass bands, their eventual dream is to get to tour in the United States. Based on the music on Travelin’, they’d likely find an eager audience, particularly at festivals. The album was recorded during the current pandemic, possibly preventing it from having that true live feel. However, the group is made up of strong musicians who know their way around a bluegrass song, and whose eagerness to perform is evident (in addition to Barbe, Villa, and Spezzano, the band also includes Perry Meroni on rhythm guitar and Stefano Zanrosso on bass). Hopefully, Travelin’ will help bring their music to a wider audience, especially once our bluegrass community – and our world – gets back to normal.

For more information on Bluedust or to purchase their album, visit them online.

The New Acoustic Collective is a contemporary string band in the Bay area of California, dedicated to the sort of chamber swing and jazz popularized in the 1980s by artists like David Grisman and Tony Rice.

Those old enough to remember the ’80s will recall that while Grisman’s mandolin-based sound had picked up the label of Dawg Music, people struggled to find a term to describe what Tony was doing then with The Tony Rice Unit. It was a bit more jazz-focused, but with elements of his bluegrass background still apparent. My memory is a bit weak as to who coined the phrase, but it eventually came to be known as New Acoustic music.

Inspired by these genres, also launched in California, The Collective will soon release a debut EP called Buckwild. A leadoff single and a music video is available now for one of the tracks, Grisman’s classic E.M.D., from the very first David Grisman Quintet album in 1977 which ignited this new style of string music with a bang. The song got its name as the movie theme for a film titled Eat My Dust, but E.M.D. is much cooler as a name for this raucous tune.

Grisman had it as a mandolin number, but as you can see in the video, New Acoustic Collective leads it off with the fiddle, played by David Boyden, drawing a strong influence from Grisman Quintet fiddler Darol Anger.

The Collective is co-led by guitarist Jason Keiser and bassist Alonzo Sanchez. Also appearing in the video is cellist Nathaniel Grohmann.

E.M.D. is available now as a single wherever you stream or download music online. Buckwild can be ordered as a digital album from the Collective’s bandcamp site.

It’s well known among those who keep track of obscure Christmas traditions (almost no one), that once you do something, anything, in two consecutive years during the holidays, you have started a Christmas tradition which you will then have to maintain for the rest of your days, passing it on to the next generation in the process. It can be something as elaborate as singing Christmas Time’s a-Comin’ backwards, or something as simple yet powerful like giving yourself food poisoning from tainted egg nog. Do it once and it’s a Christmas fluke; do it twice, and a family tradition is born.

I put the call out to various bluegrass artists to let me know what their lesser-known Christmas traditions were, and I got the following responses. All wished to remain anonymous, for fear  their family rituals would hereafter be named after them, like The Rhonda Vincent Blindfolded Christmas Bus Decoration Party, or The Ron Block Banjo Strap Snow Dance. Here are the ones I liked the best and which were least likely to result in fatalities:

In my family we spend Christmas Eve eating homemade caramel popcorn from my grandmother’s special recipe, watch A Christmas Carol (Alistair Sym version), then we dim the lights and gather around the Christmas tree while I read the most inappropriate fan emails of the past year.

—–

One year, we were sitting around playing some Christmas songs and I had my capo on the wrong fret for Beautiful Star of Bethlehem, so I was playing it in E flat while everyone else was playing in E. As a reminder of the mistake, I did it again the following year as a joke, and now it just wouldn’t be Christmas if I played it in the same key as everyone else. I also wear a Santa hat while doing this.

—–

Every Christmas Eve, I tuck the kids into bed and read The Night Before Christmas but I change the name of all the reindeer to names of members Bill Monroe’s bands through the years: “On Baker, on Berline, on Stover, on Lyle; on Wiseman, on Willis, on Drumright and Pyle.” The kids have no idea those aren’t the real names of Santa’s reindeer. I plan to tell them when they turn 30.

—–

One year my wife hung a guitar pick earring on the tree. I joined in the following year and hung a banjo capo on the tree. Now each year we hang a musical item that’s a little heavier than the year before. This year I’ll be hanging a Calton Case on the tree. It’s required a specially reinforced steel tree, but it was worth it to maintain this tradition. Next year we may have to flip it around and hang a small tree on an upright bass.

—–

Every year our family band books a really terrible gig for next Christmas that we have no intention of actually playing. Our Christmas season officially starts when we cancel the show for that year. Times were so lean this year, though, that we’ve decided to play it after all. It’s the outdoor New Year’s Eve show at the Dairy Queen in Long Lake, South Dakota. It pays $100 plus free Blizzards (and maybe an actual blizzard). Come on out if you’re free.

Attention banjo players and students! If you haven’t already discovered Eli Gilbert’s 12 Days of Licksmas videos, see that you do so post haste.

Eli is a young banjo player from Maine, just making it into the under 30 crowd, who has accomplished that most difficult of feats. He supports himself playing and teaching three finger banjo online. He’s a fine player himself, but with performance opportunities taken away this year, he has knuckled down and created a space for himself in the virtual world, providing lessons for others using Patreon.

As we have described before, Patreon is a site that allows artists and creators of every sort to easily monetize content online. Gilbert makes his banjo lesson videos, tablature, and demonstrations available to anyone willing to make recurring donations for as little as $1 per month. Of course, at that contribution level, you don’t get access to everything he posts, like those who contribute $25 each month. Those folks can utilize all the lessons and videos, and also participate in Eli’s lesson exchange program, where you can send him brief examples of your playing, and he will respond with a video offering critique, corrections, and answers to any questions you might pose.

All this for less than the cost of one private lesson each month.

But what about the 12 Days of Licksmas? As the name suggests, Eli has been offering a series of 12 videos this month, each with a new lick that is demonstrated on camera.

We’ll let him describe it.

“I started Licksmas last year with Marcel Ardans, who teaches bluegrass guitar on Youtube, as a way to cross promote to each others’ audiences. At the time I was just beginning to teach online, and I saw it as a unique way to put my name out there as an online educator. Now, one year later, I’m making my living primarily from teaching online via my Patreon page. I’m extraordinarily lucky that my living, and one of the things I’m most passionate about, hasn’t been affected substantially by the pandemic.

But that hasn’t been the case for most musicians, especially in our corner of the industry. Beyond that, the world of music education and performance continues to move into a digital space, requiring artists to master not only their craft, but also videography, audio recording, video editing, and perhaps the most difficult, building an online audience.

So this year, when I was thinking about the possibility of another iteration of Licksmas, I realized I could use it to introduce my audience to some young, extremely-talented, award-winning, banjo players that up until recently were often spending more time on stages than on YouTube. These are people that I went to school with, jam with at festivals, learn from, people that are a really important part of my banjo community.”

Gilbert has chosen his collaborators well. Helping out this year are BB Bowness, banjo player with Mile Twelve; Tabitha Benedict, from Cup O’Joe, Midnight Skyracer, and The Foreign Landers; Tray Wellington, ETSU student, formerly with Cane Mill Road; Tyler Steagall with The High Water Line; and banjo wunderkind Max Allard.

To help get the word out, all of them created a Facebook and YouTube video for each of the 12 days, demonstrating the licks and phrases, even though each banjoist only contributed two licks for Licksmas 2020. So when it was Eli’s lick, Max, Tabitha, BB, Tyler, and Tray also made a video, meaning six Facebook and YouTube videos for every lick.

It’s a great way to showcase these outstanding players, and learn a handful of new licks during the Christmas season. Given their age and the music education these pickers have received, the licks tend toward the modern sound, but most are demonstrated within a bluegrass context.

Here are a few as examples…

Plus one from our host…

Be sure to check out all of these fine young players online, and don’t miss the chance to pick up all the new phrases in The 12 Days of Licksmas.

Colin Gordon-Farleigh is a retired minister in the Presbyterian Church of Wales, who also writes and sings bluegrass and traditional country music from his home in Cheshire.

This year, he has released an EP of Christmas music, Country Christmas, made up of four lesser known classics, and one of his originals. All are performed with bluegrass instrumentation, featuring Colin’s distinctive voice.

He created this video overview of the album, with brief samples of each of the tracks.

Country Christmas is available on CD and for download from his label, Sheer Joy Music, online.

Remember that by following this link, you can see all the bluegrass Christmas music we have highlighted this year.

Many bluegrass albums are touted as solo records, particularly when an artist who is best known as part of a popular band steps out on their own. However, As Time Goes By, the newest album from Jacob Underwood, banjo player for Illinois-based band Bluegrass Express, is a solo record in the strictest definition of the word. With the exception of guest harmony vocalists on two songs, Underwood is the only musician on the entire album – singing lead and harmony, and playing guitar, banjo, fiddle, mandolin, and bass. Pretty impressive! Also impressive is the music he tackles here – popular music from the 1930s, ’40s, and ’50s, all rendered in a strong, straightforward bluegrass style. 

According to the album’s liner notes, although Underwood grew up steeped in traditional bluegrass and playing in a family band, his grandpa introduced him to classic music from the likes of Perry Como several years ago. His goal for this album, then, became to transfer the songs he liked from that era to bluegrass versions, while still maintaining a bit of the sound from the originals. The result is an intriguing concept, filled with songs that will be new to many listeners, rendered in a smooth, enjoyable style.

The album opens with Pretend, most famously recorded by Nat King Cole in 1953. Underwood has captured the feeling and melody of the original, while speeding up the tempo just a bit and replacing strings and horns with bright mandolin and fiddle. The song seems hopeful at the surface, with the singer urging listeners to pretend they’re happy even when they’re not, but Underwood also captures an undercurrent of wistfulness in the lyrics. Another strong cut is Perry Como’s Moonlight Love, which I would have never guessed was a 1950s pop song. Here, it’s an upbeat, banjo and fiddle-guided love song that could easily fit in on any number of modern traditional bluegrass albums. Underwood’s harmonies on this cut are also particularly strong. 

Till I Waltz Again with You, originally recorded by Teresa Brewer in the early 1950s, is given a country shuffle makeover by Underwood, with fine fiddle, banjo, and bass work. Underwood shows off a good control of his vocals on this song, making it a highlight of the album. It still has a strong ’50s vibe, but more of a dance hall/honky tonk sound than the smooth, jazzy pop of the original. Another of the best makeovers on the album has to be Only Forever, which takes the slow, crooner style of Bing Crosby and turns it into Lonesome River Band, circa the early 1990s. Again, I’d have never guessed the origins of the song if I hadn’t looked it up. I’d love to hear this one on the radio.

A few songs on the album lean more toward their source material than the others do, such as jazz standard All of Me. Although the song has been recorded by a number of popular singers over the years, including Ruth Etting and Billie Holliday, Underwood leans into the crooner vocal style he obviously admires, taking a note from Frank Sinatra’s recording of the song. As Time Goes By also has a lot of that same style, both in the vocals and instrumentation. Classic movie fans may recognize it from its appearance in Casablanca. Underwood is joined by Norwegian singers Anniken Ottersen Lindbak and Rebekka Fjellstad Fredsrud with excellent harmony vocals.

This album really surprised me, because I was honestly expecting less bluegrass and more 1940s pop. However, although Underwood captures the vocal style of that time period on several songs, and often utilizes fiddles to mimic the sweeping strings on the original cuts of these songs, this is a bluegrass album through and through, and a thoroughly enjoyable one at that. Underwood is definitely to be commended for his skill with both arranging and performing here.

For more information on Jacob Underwood, or to order As Time Goes By, visit him online. 

Del McCoury and his talented sons, Ronnie and Rob, have long done their music together. As soon as the boys were old enough to tour with dad, Del added them to his award-winning Del McCoury Band. Now they not only accompany him on his shows, they also have their own band, The Travelin’ McCourys, and their own Grammy Award to show for it.

And the only difference between the two acts is Del. As the Del McCoury Band, it is Del on guitar and lead vocals, Ronnie McCoury on mandolin, Rob McCoury on banjo, Jason Carter on fiddle, and Alan Bartram on bass. When they are The Travelin’ McCourys, Cody Kilby steps into Del’s shoes on guitar. 

Well… there is also a difference in song selection. When it is the Del McCoury Band, the focus is on his many bluegrass classics and his singular singing style. The Travelin’ McCourys stick with the driving bluegrass sound, but include songs and sets that appeal to a younger, jamband sort of audience.

But the family sticks together. This week, both groups have new singles, and they have been released together by McCoury Music.

First up is Del, with his version of She Even Woke Me Up to Say Goodbye, a hit for Jerry Lee Lewis in 1969. It’s a mournful country ballad given the inimitable Del McCoury touch. Who can resist a heartbroken tearjerker gone full bluegrass?

For The Travelin’ McCourys it’s Passin’ Thru, one they have been performing on stage for some time. It’s a cover of a song written by Johnny Cash and Randy Scruggs, originally recorded on the Earl Scruggs and Friends album in 2001. There it was sung by Cash and Don Henley, and here Ronnie McCoury takes the lead as his fellow travelers speed things up a good bit from the Scruggs cut.

Both singles are available now wherever you stream or download music online, just in time for Christmas.