Banjo Feast #4

Happy Sunday morning!  For those who are looking for the Photo of the Week & coming attractions: not to worry—they’ll post about 2:00 p.m. US Mountain Time today.  In the meantime, I wanted to bring the Banjo Feast series to a close with two terrific banjo performances.

Interestingly, both the performers in these videos are probably better known for playing the guitar.  That’s certainly true of Taj Mahal—so much so in fact that the person who compiled this video uses shots of Taj Mahal playing guitar even tho he’s playing the banjo on this song.  Marcy Marxer isn’t as well known as Taj Mahal—tho she & her long-time music partner Cathy Fink deserve to be more widely recognized—but in her duo with Fink she does play more guitar, while Fink plays more banjo—of course they both play ukes & all sorts of other fun things as well.

& you may ask why—with all the great banjo foodie songs to choose from—I chose another video featuring Marxer, since she & Cathy Fink were featured performing “The Kitchen Girl” in one of Thanksgiving Day’s selections.  A couple of reasons—first, I just find the cello banjo a remarkable instrument, & this was a chance to hear Marcy Marxer playing it solo.  Second, there was something about pairing “Candy Man” & “Angeline the Baker” that I couldn’t resist.
Taj Mahal’s version of “Candy Man” draws elements from both the Reverend Gary Davis tune & Mississippi John Hurt’s different song of the same name.  Overall, however, Mahal’s “Candy Man” is closer to the Davis’ song.  The recording comes from his great 1969 double album, Giant Step/De Ole Folks at Home.  Taj Mahal is a giant in the blues & roots music scene, & that’s an essential album by just about any standard.

There’s some fun puzzlement reagarding the history of the song “Angeline the Baker.”  It’s clearly connected in some way to Stephen Foster’s tune “Angelina Baker,” tho the melodies differ somewhat & the harmonic structures (that is, the underlying patterns of chord changes) are also different.  But the question remains: was Foster using an existing song as a template for his sentimental tune, or is the fiddle tune “Angeline the Baker” a folk derivation from Foster’s original.  I’ve yet to see anyone make a definitive statement on this.  In any case, Marcy Marxer does a rip-roaring job of picking it on her Gold Tone cello banjo!

Hope you enjoy the songs & check back in later for a wintery Photo of the Week!





Photo of Taj Mahal is by Wiki Commons user Tsui who makes it available under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license
Photo of Marcy Marxer is from the Flickr photostream of user jconn0403

Banjo Feast #3

It’s Saturday, & as we move into the weekend proper, I expect a number of you are still working on Thursday’s turkey & trimmings: perhaps at the soup & sandwich stages now.  Here on Robert Frost’s Banjo, we’re back to our banjo feast with two interesting selections.

Both of today’s songs feature performers whose careers pre-dated the recording industry—their careers stretch back to the days of medicine shows & similar entertainments.  Otherwise, however, you might think that Uncle Dave Macon & Papa Charlie Jackson were quite different sorts of musicians playing quite different sorts of music—Uncle Dave Macon is thought of as an old-time “country” musician—he was a charter member of the Grand Ol’ Opry—while Papa Charlie Jackson would be classified as a blues player.

But they both played the banjo—& as we know from many sources, the genre-typing of music that’s a staple of today’s recording industry (& which seems to grow more & more particularized every year) is an anachronism when discussing the actual musicians & types of music played in the actual “old times,” especially prior to World War II.  A good discussion of this, particularly in the blues context, can be found in Elijah Wald's fine book, Escaping the Delta: Robert Johnson & the Invention of the Blues.  

Anyway, from a banjo perspective, both Macon & Jackson were excellent players.  Macon’s style—while idiosyncratic—may be a bit more recognizable.  He played clawhammer or frailing style, but interestingly, he often interspersed parts that were played with the fingers plucking upward rather than the downward stroke of frailing.  These days this is pretty much an "either/or" choice, & a fair number of banjoists play in only way style period, let alone switching styles in mid-song as Macon did.

Papa Charlie Jackson on the other hand, didn’t play the 5-string banjo or its 4-string relatives like the plectrum & tenor banjos.  He played a 6-string “banjo guitar.”  Tuned like a guitar, but with a banjo head, this instrument was much more common in the 1920s & 30s than nowadays (tho both Gold Tone & Deering continue to make these instruments)—besides Papa Charlie Jackson, the great Johnny St. Cyr from Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five played a guitar banjo; & a couple of musicians whose careers extended later but who had roots in this era also were known for playing the instrument, namely Danny Barker & the Reverend Gary Davis.  Even Django Rheinhardt played some guitar-banjo!

Hope you enjoy these two songs (at least marginally “foodie”), & tune in tomorrow morning for two more as the series draws to a conclusion!





1st pic: Papa Charlie Jackson & his banjo-guitar.
2nd pic: Uncle Dave Macon & his 5-string banjo

Banjo Feast #2

Happy Thanskgiving!  or Happy Thursday, as the case may be.  The Banjo Feast continues, & there are two wonderful songs for you today, both featuring banjo & foodie themes: the Carolina Chocolate Drops, with Rhiannon Giddens playing clawhammer-style banjo, give us a sweet version of “Corn Bread & Butter Beans.”  Ms Giddens is joined by bandmates Dom Flemons on jug & bones & Justin Robinson on fiddle & vocal.  I had the pleasure of seeing the Carolina Chocolate Drops in Chico, CA this autumn, & let me tell you: if you ever get a chance to see them perform, don't miss it.

The second song is Marcy Marxer & Cathy Fink's take on the old-time standard “Kitchen Girl.”  The latter song features Marxer on an instrument she helped design, Gold Tone’s cello banjo—also a dream instrument of mine!  Ms Marxer & Ms Fink have been performing together for 30 years & they are truly a delight, whether they're playing old-time tunes, children's songs or any of their wonderful experiments betwixt & between!  Marxer & Fink are also successful producers who have worked in the studio with artists such as Tom Paxton, Pete Seeger, Patsy Montana & many others.  & while I always think of them first in terms of the banjo, they're not instrumental monomaniacs—they also perform with various guitars, ukuleles, mandolins, percussion instruments & more.

If you’re not familiar with either the Carolina Chocolate Drops (see pic leading off the post) or Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, please take some time to check out their homepages & get to know these extremely talented musicians.  In the meantime, enjoy your day & a couple of banjo tunes!

Banjo Feast #1

Happy day before Thanksgiving all! Hope your preparations are going swimmingly, & for those of you who are traveling, hope your journeys are safe.

Of course, holidays can be mixed blessings some times—& with that in mind, I thought I’d offer a little something over the next few days to brighten your mornings, or whatever part of the day you may visit Robert Frost’s Banjo. & those who are enjoying a festive holiday—well, this should just brighten up your day a bit more, as it should for our many friends outside the U.S. who are free & clear from the Thanksgiving frenzy.

In an old Peanuts comic strip, Linus once observed that, “The way I see it as soon as a baby is born, he should be issued a banjo.” This, in Linus’ view, would cure existential angst. I tend to agree with Linus on this point—so I’m offering a banjo feast from now thru the weekend—excepting Friday, when we’ll be enjoying Bernie Jungle’s Homegrown Radio appearance. Otherwise, each morning thru Sunday, two banjo songs!

& not just banjo songs: as Thanksgiving is the foodie holiday par excellance, they’ll all be foodie songs too. Today’s selections are the enigmatically named “Rush in the Pepper,” performed by one of my favorite old-time banjoists, Cathy Moore of Banjo Meets World. Tho Ms Moore has a serious day job in a whole other field, she is a very talented player, & there are also some great instructional videos on her blog & her YouTube channel. She brings verve & an uncanny rhythmic sense to the banjo, & I always enjoy listening to her play. I’m sure you’ll feel the same way.

The second video features someone else who was both a performer & a teacher—the late Mike Seeger, who was responsible for bringing so much old-time music to people’s consciousness from the 1950s until his death last year. Seeger was in his own way as much of an apostle of the banjo as his half-brother Pete, & in fact concentrated more than Pete on the real old-timey sound. Mike made much of his mark with the wonderful band, the New Lost City Ramblers, but he was also an accomplished solo artist who excelled on a number of instruments. Mike Seeger is playing one of the first tunes many banjo players learn, “Bile Them Cabbage Down” (“Bile”=”Boil”), but he brings a real artist’s take to the simple tune. He’s also playing a gourd banjo—this is truly vintage sound! Please note that Mr Seeger had some problems tuning the instrument, so the tune itself doesn’t start until around 1:50: take heart, all musicians who’ve ever gone thru that on stage—it happens to the best!

Enjoy! & tune in tomorrow for more of the Banjo Feast!

“Spanish Flang Dang”

Hi folks, & welcome back to the Monday Morning Blues.  Actually, today’s selection isn’t a blues piece by any standard definition of the genre, but it certainly is a relation.


The tune “Spanish Flang Dang” or “Spanish Fandango” was a popular instrumental piece in the late 19th & early 20th century.  As I understand it, the piece derived originally from a guitar instruction book in which it was given as an example of playing in “Spanish” tuning.  For those of you who aren’t up on the complexities of guitar tunings, “Spanish tuning” is another term of open G tuning, which simply means that the guitar is tuned so that all six strings, if played unfretted, sound a G major chord.  The standard tuning for a guitar (from bass string to treble string) is EADGBE, while the open G tuning lowers a few notes as follows: DGDGBD.  


Many old time pickers had a version of “Spanish Fandango” in their repertoire, but my arrangement is based on Elizabeth Cotten’s.  Cotten’s version of the tune (“Spanish Flang Dang” as she called it) is unusual in that it’s a waltz—this tune typically was played in 4/4 time.  


Now Cotten played both guitar & banjo, but she played this song on the guitar—in fact most people do, & I myself have played it on the guitar quite a lot—after all, it got its start as a piece written for guitar.  Why did I choose to record it on the banjo?


As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been thinking about adding some instrumental pieces to my performance repertoire, & when this idea first occurred to me, I immediately started making a list of instrumentals I already knew, as they’d be the easiest to get into performance shape.  “Spanish Flang Dang” was high on the list.  But as I sat in the music room the first day of practicing these pieces, I realized the guitar I liked to play in open G tuning needed to be re-strung & I wasn’t in the mood for that.  & I didn’t feel like re-tuning another.


Laziness was the mother-of-invention, because there was a banjo in a stand right next to me.  Those of you who know the banjo know that open G is the most common banjo tuning—so here was an instrument in open G right at my fingertips.  True, it only had 5 strings instead of 6, & one of the 5 is a high-pitched drone—but why not try it?


I did, & it was great fun to play.  I liked the way it sounded; Eberle did too.  So today’s recording is yours truly playing Spanish Flang Dang on our 1930s Windsor banjo.  Hope you enjoy it!

“Trâgnala Rumjana”

Happy Saturday!  I thought I’d share a bit of music with you today, & since this is Robert Frost’s Banjo, why not some banjo music?


In the distant past (all of two years or a tad less), I wrote about the banjo playing technique known as “frailing” or “clawhammer.”  For those who aren’t familiar with banjo playing, it involves striking down on the strings with the fingernail of either the index or middle finger, while also using the thumb to either play the drone string or else “drop” down onto the four other strings & play parts of the melody.  Frailing is an African technique that came across on the slave ships along with the akonting, or original African banjo.  It’s a very rhythmic & percussive style, & is still used commonly in what these days is called “old-timey” music (as opposed to bluegrass, which features quite a different style of banjo playing); it’s also long been favored as a style for dance accompaniment because of its rhythmic drive.  


I’ve dabbled in clawhammer style playing, tho for the most part I have a sort of idiosyncratic banjo playing style—perhaps the sort of thing you’d expect from someone who learned guitar fingerpicking for playing old blues & ragtime.  But tho I’m not a clawhammerist myself, I do love to listen to this style.  There are a number of talented practitioners these days, but one player I especially like is Cathy Moore of the (now apparently dormant, sad to say) Banjo Meets World blog.


Ms Moore is an excellent musician, tho as far as I know, she has never issued any recordings beyond those found on her blog & her super YouTube channel (also called Banjo Meets World) Ms Moore’s playing is—as frailed banjo music should be—filled with pulse & drive, but it’s also crisp & melodic.  She also often ventures outside the standard 2/4 timing of most clawhammer banjo music, playing a number of pieces in “odd” time signatures such as 7/8, 9/8 & 11/8.  The song I’m featuring, “Trâgnala Rumjana” is, according to Ms Moore’s notes on the video, “A Bulgarian song in 7/8 played over the scoop on my Gold Tone OT-800 banjo.”  For the uninitiated, a “scoop” is literally a scoop out of the bottom of the fretboard—it’s found on a number of banjos, especially the openback models favored for frailing, because a lot of frailing/clawhammer players tend to play with their right hand above the fretboard as opposed to the banjo drum.


Speaking for myself, I do hope Ms Moore, who has been silent both on her blog & her YouTube channel, is ok & still playing the banjo—I’d also add that if Cathy Moore ever wants to record an album, I’d definitely get in line!


Hope you enjoy this.





The pic shows a Gold Tone OT-800 banjo—nice machine!

“Silent Night”

Happy Friday everybody—as promised, I do have a holiday tune for you all this morning, & a well known one at that—“Silent Night.” As a bit of a wrinkle, I’m playing it “classical style” (essentially like guitar fingerpicking) on a 5-string banjo.

I made this recording a couple of years ago, & no doubt I could play it better now, but I was satisfied with the take when I recorded it, & still don’t have any real objections to the performance—perhaps a few quibbles, but that’s it. Long-time followers will remember that this same music & slideshow was posted last Christmas Eve. Apologies for the re-post, but I wanted to jump start the Holiday Music series. Between last weekend’s rehearsals for & performances of the McCall Christmas Concert (with attendant driving) & the accompanying if unrelated disaster of a our furnace vent pipe coming askew in snow & wind & causing up to $5,000 of damage before we caught it (coming home from dress rehearsal & finding the fluorescent light fixture in our utility room filled with water was a big clue), these have been a busy couple of weeks. We’ve also been hit by snow, then rain, power failures & the general scatteredness of coming back to day-to-day life after a week & a half immersed in an out-of-town performance.

I also feel a bit remiss because I failed to wish Jewish friends & family members a Happy Hannukah earlier in the festival—so almost belated wishes to the Rosenbergs & the Kleins & Sue R., & all readers who observe this holiday. My plans for playing “Chanuke, Chanuke” in frailing style on the banjo (in the odd D minor tuning!) will have to wait for another year.

There will be another holiday music post Monday morning, & that will involve guitar. But this time around it’s the banjo. Hope you enjoy it!

Béla Fleck: Throw Down Your Heart

Is there any sound that conjures old-time Americana more than the plunking of a banjo on a tune like “Old Joe Clark?” Imagine that song being played by one of the pre-eminent banjo players of his day, surrounded by other virtuosic musicians. Sounds like a bluegrass hoedown, doesn’t it. Well, not quite—not if it’s the scene in the fabulous documentary Throw Down Your Heart featuring banjoist Béla Fleck & Mali’s Jatta family, a group that features not only drums & percussion, but also the akonting, the three string west African instrument that is considered the banjo’s most direct ancestor. (Note: if you saw this film in the theater & don’t recall this scene, it’s because it’s included in the DVD’s generous selection of bonus performances).

For those who aren’t familiar with Mr Fleck, he’s truly a banjo maestro playing in the 3-finger bluegrass style developed by Earl Scruggs. However, Fleck has long ago expanded far beyond bluegrass for forays into jazz, classical, pop & world music; in fact, Fleck has been nominated for grammy awards in nine categories, more than any other musician. Fleck names his main musical influences as Chick Corea, Charlie Parker & Earl Scruggs, so you get the idea that his musical tastes are inclusive; he’s also recorded with a wide variety of musicians—from Newgrass mandolin wiz Sam Bush to tabla virtuoso Zakir Hussain.

Fleck’s idea in the Throw Down Your Heart project is to connect the banjo back to its African roots. The instrument that was variously referred to as the banjar & the banza in colonial America was brought to the U.S. thru the slave trade, & for quite some time remained solely the instrument of enslaved Africans. In fact, the films title comes from a phrase used in Tanzania, from which slaves were usually transported to the east, to Arabic countries. The phrase means to leave your heart behind, because you’ll never see your native land again. Fleck composed a song called “Throw Down Your Heart,” & he plays this (again in the bonus material) in scenes filmed both on the shores of the Indian Ocean & the Atlantic. It’s a moving piece of music—Fleck is capable of making the banjo a surprisingly lyrical instrument; sometimes you’d almost swear you were listening to a jazz guitar player.

But one of the many great aspects of this film is that it’s not all about Béla Fleck—it’s about the music & the instruments, & about how the music made on these very different instruments & in these very different styles can interact. It also occasionally highlights how the different musical cultures can’t quite connect—for instance, there’s a scene in which Fleck is accompanying an all-woman singing group in which the banjo really does seem out-of-place, despite Fleck’s artistry. The film also underlines some very basic differences between African music & western music—despite the banjo’s ultimate African origins, its current incarnation in bluegrass is very much based in European & U.S. folk styles, & Fleck’s virtuosity on the instrument is also based in the western tradition of long melodic phrases & the ability to play difficult, fast passages with ease. This contrasts with the African music, which is based on a virtuosity of patterns—patterns that are altered in concistently intriguing ways to keep the song moving forward, but patterns that are based on a multiplicity of rhythms. Our musical shorthand for this is “riffs,” but the rock & roll or even blues notions of riffs are pretty straightforward in comparison. When Fleck has trouble fitting in with someone’s music, it’s because of the rhythmic complexity.

It’s fortunate for the documentary that Fleck is able to show all sides of the musical interactions; it deepens the film greatly. But I should stress that the vast majority of the music in both the film itself & the bonus material works gloriously. Fleck’s musical interaction with Tanzanian singer & thumb pianist Anania Ngoliga provides transcendent moments, as does his playing with Malian dgoni player Bassekou Kouyate; the dgoni is another banjo ancestor. Malian singer Oumou Sangaré performs her song “The Worried Songbird” with Fleck accompanying her on banjo, & this is startlingly beautiful. These are just a few highlights: a couple of others worth mentioning: Ruth Akello, a Ugandan woman thumb pianist—this is apparently such a gender anomoly that people believed (in her words) “God wanted to create me like a boy—that’s why I play like that;" & the giant marimba in Uganda’s Nakisenyi village—what a magnificent instrument!

I’ve seen some world music documentaries in which the filmmakers &/or western musicians seem to be co-opting the traditional music for their own purposes or glorification, but that’s never the case in Throw Down Your Heart. Fleck is a truly engaging presence on film, because he comes across as a person who hasn’t allowed his prodigious talent to go to his head; he lets his vulnerability show, whether he’s playing beautifully, or baffled (check out his dancing in Uganda!), or in awe of his fellow musicians.

Throw Down Your Heart had a limited theatrical run, but it's now available on DVD & you can queue it up on Netflix. Whether your interest is the banjo or world music or Africa or documentary film making or just plain great music, this is a film you shouldn't miss! You can get a short sample from the trailer posted below:



UPDATE: I was very gratified to receive an email this afternoon from John Bonini of New Video Digital. Mr Bonini mentioned that Throw Down Your Heart is available on Itunes here, & that there is a Facebook Fan Page at this link.

Shake Sugaree – the Music of Elizabeth Cotten

If one is inclined to read books or visit a number of websites, or even talk to a number of musicians, one might come away with the impression that traditional music is dictated by a number of very strict rules—for instance, if you’re going to play blues you need to do it in such-&-such a style on such-&-such a guitar, & you should be able to reproduce certain licks as emblematic of the style. Now, I’ve learned a fair amount from music books & websites, & a whole heckuva lot from other musicians, but I’ve come to realize that these rules only go so far. While it’s unquestionably important to study the good ones who’ve come before, at a certain point you need to dive in & play it the way you hear & “feel” it—& by “feel,” I mean emotionally, of course, but also tactilely—because the physical act of playing an instrument is a combination of hearing & touch.

The majority of us spend some time trying to figure out how to play things “the right way” before we realize that we actually have gained enough skills along the way to play the songs we love the way we hear & feel them. The results may not be as spectacular as the results of the justifiably renowned traditional musicians, but they will have that “certain je ne sais quoi” that comes from actually interacting with a piece of music.

Some musicians, however, rapidly develop a unique style, & one of these was the great folk/blues fingerstyle guitar player, Elizabeth Cotten. Ms. Cotten was left-handed, & when she was young she picked up a guitar in the way that seemed natural to her—namely, what would be considered upside-down & backwards. These days, they make left-handed guitars (tho depending on the degree of left-handedness, a number of left-handed folks also play “as if” they were right-handed), Elizabeth Cotten came to the guitar after learning the banjo at age seven (she learned on her older brother’s banjo); again, she played the banjo “upside-down & backwards.”

Now a banjo has a quirk in that the string that would be typically played with the thumb by a right-handed person is a high-pitched drone. It’s also true that in a number of old-time banjo styles the thumb plays a good deal of the melody. So in that sense, Elizabeth’s approach to the banjo was slightly less novel. But when she started to play the guitar, she came up with the odd technique of playing the bass strings with her index finger & the treble strings with her thumb—exactly the opposite of how the instrument is typically played.

Despite or because of her unusual playing technique, Elizabeth Cotten grew to be a masterful guitar player. She also was a precocious composer—Cotten wrote her best-known song, “Freight Train,” as a young teenager, not long after she’d scraped together enough money to buy a Stella guitar (an inexpensive model of the time). The song has become a real “standard” of fingerstyle guitar, & has been covered by everybody from Peter, Paul & Mary to Chet Atkins. You can hear Elizabeth Cotten playing & singing the song in the first video clip below.

Cotten made her living mostly as a maid, & apparently didn’t pursue music in any “serious” way. In fact, by the time she moved to the Washington, D.C. area she’d mostly put the guitar aside, except for playing occasionally at church.

Cotten was working in a department store one day when a young girl became lost. Elizabeth Cotten helped the child, who was Penny Seeger—yes, of that Seeger family. The upshot was that Cotten became the Seeger’s maid, & at a certain point young Mike Seeger discovered that Elizabeth Cotten could not only play the guitar but could really play the guitar. He began taping her performances on reel-to-reel tapes, & these were later issued by Folkways Records.

Elizabeth Cotten, now in her 60s, became a fixture at folk festivals from the 1960s almost until her death at age 92 in 1987—in fact, she won a Grammy Award for best traditional album in 1985 (for her Live! on Arhoolie). She continued to write songs, too: her wonderful song “Shake Sugaree” was written in the 1960s, & was recorded with Elizabeth playing guitar & her 14-year-old granddaughter, Brenda Evans, singing. You can hear this lovely tune in the second video clip below.

Elizabeth Cotten was a true musical wonder. Her guitar playing was impeccable. Tho her voice had lost something to age by the time Seeger began recording her, her instrumental technique remained formidable. As evidence: check out her version of the classic fingerstyle piece “Vestapol” in the final clip.

So next time someone says, “You can’t do it that way,” think of Elizabeth Cotten!

Musical Questions Anyone?

Hey everybody, another Musical Questions installment tomorrow, this time around from a wonderful musician whose main instrument these days is not as familiar as it might be. The musician is Scott Houston, someone I’ve known since my Bay Area days, & someone whose musicianship I’ve long respected. In addition to being an excellent bassist, Scott these days usually holds forth on the lap steel guitar. The lap steel is instrument that has fascinated both Eberle & I for a long time; we have a lap steel ourselves, a 6-string Gretsch, & we do play around with it quite happily from time to time. For those who’d like to learn more about this instrument, you can get some good general information at Wikipedia here, or a bit more in depth at the excellent site, Brad’s Page of Steel.

Scott Houston is much more than an occasional noodler on the lap steel, however. He’s the real deal, able to provide the instruments characteristically haunting melodies & riffs as an integral part of his current band, Oakland’s The Mighty Lynch Pins (that’s the band in the pic), & also from time to time in Chris Leone’s loose confederation (of which Eberle & I are also members, at least in the band's occasional Great Northwest configuration), the Spurs of the Moment. Be sure to check in for Scott’s insightful & entertaining Musical Questions tomorrow; as a sneak preview of Scott’s music making, check out the video of Mr Houston qua rock bassist in Carrie Bradley’s fantastic band, 100 Watt Smile. The video was recorded at one of my all-time favorite Baghdad by the Bay nightclubs, the Bottom of the Hill, in 2000. Tomorrow, you’ll get to check out Scott’s current (& decidedly more laid-back) incarnation in a video of the Mighty Lynch Pins.

In other blog news, I’ve run across three new blogs (both new to me & relatively new overall) that are well worth checking out. Don Parker, Ink is a hilarious new blog (with a tip of the hat to mouse medicine’s eponymous Mouse & to Citizen K. for pointing him out) that specializes in political/cultural satire & is a fun & refreshing read. Tho Don Parker, Ink is very much “fresh off the presses,” this is one blogger who really hit the ground running.

I’ve also very much enjoyed a recent find (actually, someone who found this spot first), The Butler and the Bagman Chronicles. This also is a relatively new blog, & also one that’s quite droll & novel—but in an interesting way, not just novelty for its own sake. Butler and Bagman mostly consists of episodic tales involving the two title characters who, per the masthead, are personifications of the author’s ego & id. The writing is humorous & delightful, & there are also some engaging “real” stories of the blogger’s family life interspersed. Both these blogs are well worth checking out.

& don’t miss Blueflint, a Scottish female banjo bluegrass duo. Their blog is brand new, but it has links to some great YouTube videos from their performances. Also, don’t let the bluegrass moniker fool you: these folks aren’t recycling clichéd versions of “Banks of the Ohio” for the kabillionth time: their sound is refreshingly new—geez, 2 banjoists, a fiddle, a drum kit, an upright bass (bowed on one number!). Who can ask for more than that? Their blog says they’re working on a cd & hoping to release this in the spring; I for one would be very interested in hearing that. Please give them a listen.

& finally, grateful thanks to Poetikat’s Kat for her “Ewe Rock” emblem, & thanks to all the readers who’ve being showing so much support, especially for the Women’s Art is Women’s Work series; Eberle & I appreciate it so much.

Hope you enjoy 100 Watt Smile, & be sure to check in tomorrow for Scott Houston’s Musical Questions!

Pic of the Mighty Lynch Pins is by Niana Liu; love the photo, & thanks for making it available.

Thursday Playlist on Friday AM #4

I knew I just wasn’t firing on all cylinders—oversleeping a bit, a little groggy, a bit too hurried & distracted…. it was 18 degrees F outside—bitter, & all the glass on the car was solidly frosted. But I headed off in the gray cold morning for my round of appointments in the high country of Donnelly & McCall somewhat later than usual, “on schedule” to arrive on time, but without much time to spare.

About 12 miles down the road, as I neared the town of Council, it began to dawn on me that things just didn’t look right—everything had a fuzzy appearance; was it the gray early morning light? That didn’t make sense. I put my hand to face & discovered I’d left home without my glasses.

There was a short deliberation about how to address this situation. But I realized if I turned back, I may as well cancel my 9:00 a.m. appointment; & I was reasoned that since I’ve made this drive at least once a week since ’02, it wasn’t as if I needed to read the road signs. Still, the drive was surreal—even more surreal coming home in a snowstorm that increased in ferocity the lower I descended in elevation. By the time I came back thru Council, the flakes were about as big as they can be before turning to rain.

But I had some truly wonderful & inspiring music to listen to as I wended my fuzzy & foggy way thru the canyons—music that gave me a lot to think about in terms of how art communicates. Here are the albums:

Buell Kazee: Buell Kazee (June Appal)

1. Roll On, John
2. Jay Gould's Daughter
3. The Lady Gay
4. Steel A-Going Down
5. The Roving Cowboy
6. Banjo Medley: Blue-Eyed Gal, Rock Little Julie, What'll I Do With the Baby-O
7. Look Up, Look Down That Lonesome Road
8. Sporting Bachelors
9. The Orphan Girl
10. Black Jack Davy
11. The Blind Man
12. O, Thou in Whose Presence
13. Amazing Grace
14. Wexford Girl
15. Butcher's Boy
16. Wagoner's Lad
17. Short Life of Trouble
18. Shady Grove
19. East Virginia
20. Hook and Line

Buell Kazee is quite simply a legend of clawhammer banjo playing. On his most memorable tunes, the banjo is producing a lilting cavalcade of notes; the drive of his banjo frailing is simply remarkable. For those of you who weren’t around for the Clawhammer series here on Robert Frost’s Banjo (you can find the posts most easily here), frailing or clawhammer style of playing involves using the nail of either the index or the middle finger along with the thumb to play the banjo in a rather percussive manner; for reasons that may or may not seem obvious, it was also referred to in the Appalachians as “rapping” or “knocking” a banjo. The style is quite old, & is thought to be (like the banjo itself) African in origin; it was the style used in the old minstrel shows that spread the banjos popularity in the mid to late 19th century (there are some differences between the “minstrel stroke” & what’s known as “clawhammer” today, but these are relatively fine points for the general reader). The style is known for its propulsive energy, & was the preferred playing style for dances because of this.

Kazee had no problem generating propulsion; like so many good musicians, his playing always seems to be “pushing the envelope” of the beat, while actually remaining steadfast to the given tempo. This may seem contradictory, but it’s what gives his playing that remarkable drive.

As remarkable as Kazee’s banjo playing is, his voice is a match for his banjo. Bill Monroe talked about a “high lonesome sound” as being fundamental to old-time music—a sound that he sought to reproduce in an updated manner in his bluegrass band. Kazee has that high lonesome sound in spades—but with a soulful, haunteds quality that I don’t find in much bluegrass singing. Kazee’s voice comes from Greil Marcus’ “weird old America,” & in fact Kazee is featured on that most essential of Americana albums & the album Marcus was referring to with that term, Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. There is an immediacy in Kazee’s singing & playing that’s hard to achieve. This might spring in part from the naturalness with which he sang. Kazee said, “We just sang by nature. Everybody sang & nobody thought there was anything unusual about it.” Unfortunately, that attitude about singing isn’t as prevalent as it could be here in the US (that’s actually quite an understatement). It reminds me of an African proverb that’s meant a lot to me: “If you can talk you can sing; if you can walk you can dance.” So much of singing (also true of playing an instrument) is relaxation: relaxing to allow your voice to come thru, & relaxing enough to hear your voice. Relaxation isn’t given a high cultural value amongst us; I wonder as I listen to Kazee sing & play the banjo, how much that’s responsible for the cultural myth of tone deafness—which largely is a myth & not based on any actual physical condition (except, perhaps, in a very small percentage of cases).

Son House Delta Blues & Spirituals (Capitol Blues):

1. Monologue-The B-L-U-E-S
2. Between Midnight And Day
3. I Want To Go Home On The Morning Train
4. Levee Camp Moan
5. This Little Light Of Mine
6. Monologue-Thinkin' Strong
7. Death Letter Blues
8. How To Treat A Man
9. Grinnin' In Your Face
10. John The Revelator

Although this magnificent album appears to be out-of-print, it can still be found for a reasonable price, & it’s also available on LastFm; & magnificent is just one superlative that could be used to describe Son House’s singing & playing: “mind-boggling,” “stunning,” “amazing” all come to mind. There are some musicians whose music is visceral; when the music hits you, it goes straight to the body: the gut & the heart. It come from a musician who really inhabits the music or who allows the music to inhabit him/her. In cases like this, you don’t think: “oh, what a good singer,” or “wow, he can really play guitar”; these considerations are really quite secondary, because what the singer is about is the music: in a culture that places a high value on virtuosity, this type of immediacy can get overlooked. This is substance, not style.

Recently Citizen K. posted a video of Glen David Andrews & company playing a jazz-gospel version of “I’ll Fly Away.” I’d grown so used to hearing rather mediocore versions of this tune that it no longer struck me as “musical.” When I heard the music on that video, I was floored: these musicians brought so much life & so much presence to the song: they transformed it. & tho all the musicians involved in that recording are very talented & have clearly honed their skills, that’s not what I thought about as I heard the song: my thought was how incredibly moving this is.

I have that same experience with Son House. His voice is remarkable, his slide guitar playing is powerful. But I don’t think so much about the technique. Son House doesn’t use the song as a mediating force; it’s not something to come between him & his audience, something to be used to display his chops, either vocal or on his National guitar—it’s music. In his opening monologue, House talks about the connection between blues & the heart; once he launches into the roaring opening bars of “Between Midnight And Day,” (with excellent blues harp accompaniment by Alan Wilson) you begin to experience this. David Evans, in his liner notes to this album, describes a Son House show as follows: “We hadn’t just seen Son House; we had seen The Blues.”

Delta Blues & Spirituals was recorded live, at the 100 Club in London in 1970. The energy of that show explodes off the disc. When House closes the show with "John the Revelator” (done a capella, with audience participation—including the audience clapping in perfect time on the off beats), you realize this was the kind of show that could actually transform a listener. It’s not just a passive listening experience—the music gets inside you & moves you both physically &, I’d say, spiritually.

There aren’t that many musicians—or artists of any sort—who can be so consistently present & immediate in their work. I hear jazz great Rahasaan Roland Kirk this way; I think Janis Joplin at her best was like this, especially recorded live. César Vallejo’s poetry strikes me this way, too. I’m sure I could come up with other examples, but the quality is rare.

Son House is a tough act to follow. I listened to that cd again as soon as it was over. As someone who loves the old blues, & who plays them, this is like getting a lesson from a master: not about technique, but about how the music has to connect with your heart, how you have to be in the moment to play the blues.

Living in the moment—after a hurried, distracted morning, Son House showed me the way back to this. I definitely give both these artists high recommendation; & just because I think my words can only begin to convey House’s power, I’ve added a video of Son House performing his song “Forever on My Mind.” There are some other excellent videos of Son House on YouTube; it really was hard to choose. Hope you find this great artist moving & instructive, too.

Thursday’s Playlist on Friday A.M. #2

Yesterday morning was the weekly trek to Donnelly—a bitterly cold morning at that, with frozen fog down here in the valley & overcast at the higher elevations.

& a mentally foggy drive for yours truly, as my old companion insomnia paid me a call in the wee hours of Thursday morning—first time in quite a while—& that does put one in a state of somewhat forced focus while navigating the canyon roads. The January landscape has become sober in these parts, too—a lot of grays, the eerie sight of the fog crystals frozen on the skeletal limbs of sagebrush &, at higher elevations, the fog frozen in clumps on the lodgepoles & ponderosas. McCall & Donnelly were both cloudy with the raw promise of snow moving in the air—at 5,000 feet, these towns were above the inversion, but the clouds hung low & heavy.

My mind was scattered & my heart somewhat heavy with childhood recollections, & more recent memories as well: Charlottesville, VA; San Francisco…. I felt the need for a guitar, just as I felt the need for a piano in my adolescence. Hard to drive & play, tho. Later, yesterday evening, I could sit down & work on some material: Mississippi John Hurt’s version of “See See Rider,” which has the lovely line about “Ain’t no more potatoes, the frost has killed the vine,” & “Make Me a Pallet,” & Kansas Joe McCoy’s “Joliet Bound.” During the drive, I did have some wonderful music to listen to & meditate upon, however.

Cynthia Sayer: Attractions (with Bucky Pizzarelli) (Plunk Records)

1. Viper Man
2. Half as Much
3. Banjo Tango
4. Shakin’ the Blues Away
5. Over the Rainbow
6. El Choclo
7. The Gift
8. Romance without Finance
9. Dark Eyes
10. You Are My Sunshine
11. Swing De Paris
12. Abba Dabba Honeymoon
13. Hungarian Rhapsody No 2

This album has been my introduction to plectrum banjo wiz Cynthia Sayer (the banjoist in Woody Allen’s dixieland ensemble), & I’d call it a good listen. Sayer’s voice has personality, & she does some interesting melodic & rhythmic improvisations while singing some old standbys, as well as her composition, “The Gift.” In fact, her rather bouncy interpretation of “Over the Rainbow” is quite fresh, & she does a bang-up job on the old novelty tune “Abba Dabba Honeymoon.”

To my ear, tho, we’re listening to Sayer’s banjo first & her voice second. She’s at her best when she’s trading licks with the magnificent Bucky Pizzarelli, & the two of them, as well as violinist Sara Caswell, really cook on several cuts: “Banjo Tango” (Sayer's own composition), “El Choclo,” “Swing de Paris,” & “Abba Dabba Honeymoon” (I kid you not on the latter) are standouts. Sayer also proves in spectacular fashion that she can really burn up the fretboard going solo too—her version of “Hungarian Rhapsody No 2”—just her & her banjo—is a tour de force.

I have a few quibbles with the album, mostly at the level of production & arrangement. Both “Half as Much” & “You Are My Sunshine” seem to lag a bit below the overall level. “Half as Much” seems a trifle desultory during the break; I just can’t make much sense of what Sayers intended in a banjo solo that seems a tad aimless. I do think she had a fresh take on the vocal, tho. “You Are My Sunshine” also never seems to quite get off the ground, & then it’s marred (to my ear, but this may just be a quirk of mine) by the dreaded half-step modulation (this also occurs at the end of “Dark Eyes,” which I find a trifle annoying, but the playing on “Dark Eyes” is pretty strong overall). For you non-musician types out there, the half-step modulation (also called the “truck driver’s gear change”) consists of taking the song up a half step in key, usually toward the end of the song; if the body of the song is in C, the band & singer take it up to C# as a flourish toward the end. Besides the fact that it’s the same interval as the sound a truck makes when shifting gears, it also seems to say: “We have no more ideas in the original key, so let’s make it sound like we’re doing something by modulating." I admit this is done habitually by some pretty great musicians (as well as in some truly horrific pop songs)—Patsy Cline & the Beatles both were notorious practicioners of the truck driver’s gear change, & I forgive them. So I forgive Sayer & Co. too. This album really is worth a listen—Sayer’s tone & technique on the plectrum banjo (a rather unusual instrument these days—I wrote about it in an early post here) are both superb, & Pizzarelli is his usual masterful self on the 7-string guitar. The addition of Caswell’s violin makes the ensemble recall the hot jazz days, & the horn section of Scott Robinson, Randy Sandke & Jim Fryer is first-rate.

Bill Evans Trio: Waltz for Debby (Riverside)

1. My Foolish Heart
2. Waltz for Debby
3. Detour Ahead
4. My Romance
5. Some Other Time
6. Milestones
7. Waltz for Debby (alt. take)
8. Detour Ahead (alt. take)
9. My Romance (alt. take)
10. Porgy (I Loves You, Porgy)

This album, along with its companion Sunday at the Village Vanguard, are masterpieces of the piano-bass-drum trio format. The music was recorded in June 1961 during a week-long run at the Vanguard; the trio played both a matinee & an evening show over the weekend. Unfortunately, these were the last recordings made by this trio, because bassist Scott LeFaro was killed not long afterwards in a highway accident.

In addition to the even greater tragedy of a young life ended in such an untimely way, the loss of LeFaro's music was itself a tragedy. LeFaro’s bass lines, both as a back-up player & as a soloist were stunning; he has been compared to Mingus, & this doesn’t strike me as hyperbole. Some have said his bass solos sound as if they were played on a huge guitar—this also seems true: they have the melodic flow of a guitar, but with the unforgettable bass timbre. Fortunately, LeFaro gives his instrument a real work out on this album, so his playing really can be appreciated.

Evans is of course acknowldged as a master of jazz piano. As I listened yesterday, I was struck again by how much feeling & beauty he was able to convey in a simple phrase—even at times in a single note or chord. The very rubato opening of the old piano lounge standard “My Foolish Heart” shows this; his transformation of the tune into a Debussy-like melody is stunning, as is the grace he displays on his own standard, “Waltz for Debby,” or the rich darkness he brings to Miles Davis’ “Milestones.” Evans was a player who could communicate clearly on an emotional level, & he used his considerable technique to serve this—just as LeFaro used his technique to serve the song, & not vice-versa. Throughout the album the light & sure-handed drumming of Paul Motian provides a solid background for the two great improvisers; Motian is able to convey the shimmering undercurrent of the ballads, & is also able to swing, as in the upbeat 4/4 section of “Waltz for Debby.”

There are literally hundreds of jazz albums that could be categorized as “must listen.” This is not the least amongst those.

Rory Block: Gone Woman Blues (Rounder)

1. Big Road Blues
2. Preaching Blues
3. Joliet Bound
4. Maggie Campbell
5. Hellhound on My Trail
6. Bye Bye Blues
7. Gone Woman Blues
8. Peavine Blues
9. Rolling Log Blues
10. I Let My Daddy Do That
11. Tallahatchie Blues
12. Tain’t Long Fo Day
13. Terraplane Blues
14. Come On In My Kitchen
15. Be Ready When He Comes
16. Cypress Grove
17. Railroadin’ Some
18. Hawkins Blues
19. Cool Drink of Water
20. Do Your Duty
21. Rowdy Blues
22. On the Wall
23. Devil Got My Man
24. Take My Heart Again

I’ll admit it had been quite some time since I’d listened in any thorough way to Rory Block before I compiled the fingerstyle list for Michelle Lemon (& y’all) last week. Since then I’ve listened to this album a few times, & I continue to be blown away by the passion of Block’s singing & her guitar playing. I tend to be less than enthusiatic about latter day blues interpretations by famous white musicians—as just one example, if I want to hear "Crossroads Blues,” I prefer Robert Johnson’s original a good bit over the version Eric Clapton did with Cream. But Block is the real deal. Her playing generally packs a wallop, but she can also come up with some lovely riffs, as at the beginning of “Rolling Log Blues.” Her slide work is also fantastic—a startling accent, not overbearing or intrusive.

The album is a “greatest hits” compilation, tho it’s clear that Rory Block is all about making the music she loves in the best way possible, & not necessarily worrying about churning out hit records in the usual sense. The tracks are drawn from her 1991 Mama’s Blues; her 1995 When a Woman Gets the Blues; 1992’s Ain’t I a Woman; the 1996 release Tornado; & her 1989 High Heeled Blues. All of these albums were issued by Rounder.

In addition to showcasing Block’s considerable playing & singing skills, this album also has a wide range of material—from the boisterousness of “Big Road Blues” to the eerie “Hellhound On My Trail” (Block does a fine job on all the Robert Johnson covers) to the joyful sexuality of “I Let My Daddy Do That” & “Do Your Duty” to the rollicking gospel of “Be Ready When He Comes.” Block is capable of conveying all these moods effectively & with great feeling. It would be difficult to pick favorites: I do like her take on the Johnson songs, & “Peavine Blues” is wonderfully moody. Block also does a wonderful job with “Joliet Blues,” a favorite of mine from the Kansas Joe McCoy/Memphis Minnie version.

While I try to encourage folks to go back to the source with country blues & listen to the likes of Mississippi John Hurt & Robert Johnson & all their amazing counterparts, this is a truly inspired album that very much deserves a listen—& more than one listen, too.

Thursday’s Playlist on Friday A.M. #1

As I mentioned once upon a time late last summer, I have occasion to drive about 140 miles roundtrip to Donnelly, ID (via McCall) once a week. It’s a gorgeous drive in the summer & fall as long as you keep your eyes peeled for critters—I’ve seen all of the following on the road itself: black bear (2), many deer, an elk, a mountain lion & 2 beef cattle. Now there are a lot of reasons in addition to my soft spot for animals why I wouldn’t want to hit any of these with a car. Eberle & I were driving back from Lake Fork once ages ago & a black bear ran right in front of us in the canyon coming out of McCall. They can really move when they put their mind to it—& he/she had, which was a good thing, because I was thinking, “What would do if you did hit a bear? You couldn’t get out of the car….”

This time of year, the drive can be a bit less pleasant because other things besides the wild kingdom come into play, namely ice & snow. But I make the trek anyway, & it’s my main time for listening to music. So as an ongoing feature for a while at least, I’m going to post Thursday’s Playlist on Friday A.M. Here it is, with comments:

The Hoosier Hot Shots: Havin Fun with the Hoosier Hot Shots (Collector’s Choice Music)

1. No Romance In Your Soul
2. My Blue Heaven
3. Toot Toot Tootsie
4. Sweet Georgia Brown
5. Someday
6. Wabash Charleston
7. Wah-Hoo
8. Them Hillbillies Are Mountain Willies Now
9. I Like Bananas (Because They Have No Bones)
10. Meet Me By The Ice House, Lizzie!
11. What Can I Say, Dear (after I Say I'm Sorry)
12. Washboard Stomp
13. Tiger Rag

OK, I’ll admit I’m kind of obsessed with these guys right now—what more can you ask for than a slide whistle virtuoso (who doubles on Wabash Washboard), a singer who plays tenor guitar, great vocal harmonies & a rock solid band that really swings; Eberle also has pointed out how good the clarinet player Gabe Ward is at interacting with the slide whistle, an instrument that’s difficult to play as well as Hezzie Trietsch could, but also is a bit of a challenge for other musicians to play with. The self-proclaimed inventors of “Rural Midwestern Jazz,” there’s no one quite like the Hoosier Hot Shots.

I’m not really big on the concept of “favorites” in music, or poetry, etc., but I can relate a few things that struck me yesterday: 1. As compelling as Hezzie Trietsch’s slide whistle is on the upbeat numbers, it’s even more remarkable when he solos on the lyrical “Blue Heaven” or the ballad “Someday.” 2. Ken Trietsch is a very good tenor guitar player—a lot of these songs are moving at lightning speed & he’s throwing in jazz guitar riffs on that tenor in every direction. 3. Don’t miss “Wabash Stomp,” which begins with a truly unbelievable solo by Hezzie on the Wabash Washboard—there are so many bells & scrapes & dings—punctuated with bicycle horns—that I can’t keep them straight; & when Gabe Ward enters, he briefly makes his clarinet sound almost like a bicycle horn before he launches into a wonderful lead.

Mary Z. Cox: A Secret Life of Banjo (Mary Z Cox)

1. Swannanoa Tunnel
2. Golden Slippers
3. Andrew Jackson, Go Back Home
4. Old Town Band
5. Snake Charmer's Daughter
6. Old Molly Hare
7. Sandy Boys
8. Sally in the Garden
9. Soldiers Joy 3:13
10. All Through the Night
11. Hunchback Whiskey
12. Wayfaring Stranger
13. Cock-A-Doodle-Do
14. Pikes Peak
15. Angeline

First, don’t let the fact that this album was self-produced give you any hesitation. Mary Z Cox is the real deal when it comes to playing clawhammer banjo, & the recording quality is great. Cox is playing solo here, tho she does have two banjo tracks on a couple of songs, “Golden Slippers” & “Angeline” (AKA “Angelina Baker,” or sometimes in a slightly different form, “Angeline the Baker”). Both of the duet cuts are remarkable, because she creates an almost fugal texture. “Angeline” is also remarkable for its easy-going pace. While it’s true that banjos like to be played fast, sometimes it seems we all get caught up in how fast we can go. Cox shows that the banjo, in capable hands, can create music at a somewhat more modest pace. Her cuts using the fretless Hunchback Wunder Banjo, a reproduction of an early slave banjo tuned down a 4th from contemporary banjo tuning, are also remarkable. At times during her composition “Andrew Jackson, Go Back Home,” & “Hunchback Whiskey” the music sounds almost Middle Eastern with the lower drone string. Cox also reminds us that clawhammer was & is the favored old-time banjo playing style for dances—she has rock steady rhythm, but within that, there’s a real lilt to her playing, so you can hardly help but move to the music—even in a Subaru!

Dr. John: Gumbo (ATCO)
1. Iko Iko
2. Blow Wind Blow
3. Big Chief
4. Somebody Changed the Lock
5. Mess Around
6. Let the Good Times Roll
7. Junko Partner
8. Stack-a-Lee
9. Tipitina
10. Those Lonely Lonely Nights
11. Huey Smith Medley: High Blood Pressure/Don't You Just Know It/Well I'll Be John Brown
12. Little Liza Jane

Speaking of music that makes you move—how about one of the masters of NoLa music, Mac Rebennack, AKA Dr John. This is the good Dr paying tribute to New Orleans legends like Professor Longhair, Huey Smith & Earl King. But tho it’s a tribute album looking back to older material, & tho the album itself was released just a few years shy of 40 years back (wait, it can’t be that long ago, can it?…), there’s nothing precious or dated here. Dr. John roars thru these dozen tracks with his soulful howl, & pounding out lovely & rollicking music on the 88s (on 10 of the 12 tracks—he plays guitar on “Let the Good Times Roll” & only sings on “Big Chief”). The backing musicians are tremendous: great sax work by the likes of Lee Allen, & superb trombone by someone credited only as “Streamline” on Dr John’s own composition, “Somebody Changed the Lock.” I love that track for a lot of reasons; love Dr John’s version of the great parade song “Iko Iko,” & his piano playing on “Mess Around”—well, let’s just say he’s either not messing around, or he’s really messing around, depending on how you look at it; & his version of the old ragtime/blues “Stack-a-Lee” really caught my attention on this listen. But really, there are no weak tracks on this classic album.

Jimmie Rodgers: The Essential Jimmie Rodgers (RCA)

1. Away Out On The Mountain
2. Blue Yodel No. 1 (T For Texas)
3. Daddy And Home
4. Dear Old Sunny South By The Sea
5. In The Jailhouse Now
6. Memphis Yodel
7. My Old Pal
8. Blue Yodel No. 2 (Lovin' Gal Lucille)
9. Sleep Baby, Sleep
10. The Brakeman's Blues (Yodeling The Blues Away)
11. The Sailor's Pleas
12. My Little Old Home Down In New Orleans
13. Never No Mo' Blues
14. Blue Yodel No. 4 (California Blues)
15. I'm Lonely And Blue
16. Waiting For A Train
17. Frankie And Johnny
18. Pistol Packin' Papa
19. Blue Yodel No. 8 (Mule Skinner Blues)
20. T.B. Blues

& finally, speaking of classics, they don’t get much more classic than the Singing Brakeman. An “old pal of mine,” poebiz friend Jonah Winter (also a good musician & a Jimmie Rodgers fan) used to talk about the “sincere blue skies” in some western town he’d traveled thru—can’t recall where now, but it might have been in New Mexico. For some reason yesterday Rodgers’ music, & especially his singing voice, reminded me of this phrase. There’s something so open, so genuine about his voice. At first listen, Rodgers’ voice may seem somewhat plain (well, at least until he yodels), but there’s a real emotionality & humor that always come thru. & man, could he yodel. Between the range of his regular singing voice & the range of notes he could hit yodeling…amazing. I also noticed in the strangely delightful “Away Out on the Mountain” that during a certain yodeling figure he’s hitting notes of almost flute-like purity—I kid you not; I was kind of shocked to hear them.

As an “essential” album such as this has lots of obvious choices: “Waiting for a Train,” “T for Texas,” “In the Jailhouse.” But there are some less well known cuts, too, like “Memphis Yodel,” “My Little Old Home Down In New Orleans,” & one I’m working on myself these days, “T.B. Blues” (though I’ll never even try to get those vocal jumps on “T-ee, B-ee Blu-es”).

Finally, Jimmie Rodgers wasn’t a guitar virtuoso, but he had plenty of rhythm & he developed an unmistakable playing style.

Hope you get some listening ideas. All these albums are readily available.