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TR: Alright John, let's start with the fiddle. How did a nice Canadian boy like you end up playing such a Southernfied instrument? JS: I started playing violin when I was six and went to Indiana University for classical violin performance. I got sick of it and put it down (I thought!) for good in 1991. Then I heard Irish fiddle for the first time and also bluegrass fiddle. I picked up the instrument again and got a gig with a Montreal band that played both styles. TR: How did fiddling get you to where you are now? JS: I just stuck with it. I stayed with the Irish band until I moved to Toronto, where there was, and is, an excellent acoustic music scene—lots of bluegrass and old-time. I formed a new, acoustic group (Creaking Tree String Quartet) and a bluegrass band (Foggy Hogtown Boys), the latter of which is still going strong. In 2008, I decided to make a group where I could front a band and do all the lead singing. New Country Rehab was born. TR: When I listen to New Country Rehab, I hear a bunch of different influences. How would you describe your sound? JS: We start with a template of a country band—fiddle, electric guitar, double bass and drums, and just take the music into outer space. For every traditional element there is something original and exciting...crazy guitar riffs, Latin-flavoured drum and perc grooves, surf-rock bass lines, big fiddle melodies. The thing that keeps it all together is the intent of the band. We are singing about timeless and time-honoured themes: love, loss, spirituality, crime and redemption, sinners and saints. TR: How has mountain music—old time and bluegrass—shaped the band and your musical life? JS: I was always drawn to the sound of the fiddle played in the southern styles. I don't know why—I never grew up around it—but it just feels like the right way to use the instrument. Once I started getting into the songs and the musicians who were playing it, it was game, set and match. I'm hooked for life. TR: When you've toured around the South, have you found favorite spots to play? JS: Lexington and Nashville are great. Virginia looks like it will be a great place to discover. And my Mom grew up in West By God Virginia, so I'm hoping to play some shows there. We feel like kids in a candy store at this point...American audiences are great, and we are thrilled that we're being well-received. TR: What about favorite spots to eat? I mean good eats is half the reason to go on tour, right? JS: At this point, we're all just trying to stay lean! Southern cooking is a vortex of flavour and fat. I try to get salads as my main course whenever possible and whenever the spirit stays strong, although I'm a sucker for brisket. I'm gonna start writing songs about arteriosclerosis soon. TR: Finally, I have to ask...is Showman your God-given name? It couldn't be more perfect for your chosen career! JS: Yup and yup. I'm glad it suits what I'm doing, because in grade school people turned it into bad things. "Shitshow" and "Showgirl" were some of the funniest. Sometimes I still get "Snowman" from well-meaning and short-sighted hotel clerks. As for the name itself, it's pretty rare. There are only a few of us up in Canada. I think there are maybe a couple hundred in the U.S. though! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiBUrnMY_Qw*
Old Crow Medicine Show, "Wagon Wheel": The only song I know that mentions my hometown of Roanoke. Fittingly, it's rhymed with "toke."
Place says that Appalachian blues is distinct from Mississippi blues because it's more melodic. It's dominated by fingerstyle guitar, rather than the percussive playing of Delta blues, and is heavily influenced by ragtime.
"There was a lot of emphasis put on the instrumental dexterity and letting your guitar playing do your talking for you," Pearson says. "It's a little more of a back-porch style of singing."
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"All Christmas music should be played so elegantly on violin." The Boston Globe
“One of the most important pieces of American music in many, many years, uniting the strains of classical music with American hill country music.” President Bill Clinton on O'Connor's composition "Appalachia Waltz"
“Mark is so facile with his instrument and so completely on top of it. He’s really one in a million.” James Taylor
I believe Appalachia had more jazz violin players than New York did in the 1920s, 30s and 40s. African American blues, spirituals and ragtime have roots in Appalachia of course going back even hundreds of years. More recently even pop icons and a guest on An Appalachian Christmas, James Taylor, has North Carolina ties as he lived there for some time. Appalachia gave birth to some of our best pop, rock, gospel and country styles. And of course there are symphony orchestras all over Appalachia and they embody the spirit of that region of the country too.
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Earl Scruggs in 2008. Image provided by James Bradbury.
Bill Monroe is called the father of bluegrass. There's no disputing that. He founded the style and fostered it during its early years, but he didn't shape it alone. Another man did just as much to define the fast playing, high energy sound that we know today. When Earl Scruggs hit the Nashville scene at age 21 with his earth shaking, three-finger banjo picking style--something that had never been heard before--he made bluegrass hot.
He premiered as a member of Bill Monroe's band on The Grand Old Opry in December 1945. In one electrifying performance, it was like he taught bluegrass to spin its tires, chase girls, and cuss all at once.
The show was broadcast on Nashville's WSM 650, which had nationwide reach. From the Arizona desert to deep Blue Ridge hollers, people put down their whittling and knitting, socks they were darning, their magazines and listened in awe. This upstart was doing ungodly things on the banjo, playing as many as eleven notes per second, just shredding his strings and whipping up applause from the audience in Ryman Auditorium.
Playing beside Monroe, the father of bluegrass, Scruggs suddenly looked like the genre's unruly uncle. He was showing his instrument how to do all kinds of crazy things.
This groundbreaking night launched a nearly seventy year career, which came to an end last Wednesday when Scruggs passed away in a Nashville hospital. I'm sure you read about it. Every daily newspaper in the country covered his death, but none have done a better job at covering his life than The Tennessean. It captured what other, bigger publications missed--the understated revolution that Scruggs led, not only in bluegrass, but in music at large. According to fellow bluegrass musician Marty Stuart, Scruggs melted walls between musical styles, but "he did it without saying three words."
The Tennessean elaborates -- "During the long-hair/short-hair skirmishes of the ’60s and ’70s, he simply showed up and played, with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and The Byrds. And when staunch fans of bluegrass — a genre that would not exist in a recognizable form without Mr. Scruggs’ banjo — railed against stylistic experimentation, Mr. Scruggs happily jammed away with sax player King Curtis, sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar, piano man Elton John and anyone else whose music he fancied."
Scruggs remained true to his bluegrass sound, but he knew that he could only expand his fan base by reaching beyond the Opry stage. Unlike many of his country music contemporaries, he played in places where he knew he'd find a new audience--college campuses, The Newport Jazz Festival, and even Carnegie Hall. It paid off. As the ambassador of bluegrass, he seeded interest in mountain music among urban sophisticates and roots reverent hippies.
Nashville wasn't always happy about this cross-pollinating. According to The Tennessean, when Scruggs was asked about playing with Baez, who was then viewed by many as "hyper-liberal and undesirable," he replied, "Well, I didn’t look at it from a political view. And I thought Joan Baez had one of the best voices of anybody I’d ever heard sing.”
Baez wasn't the only controversial woman in Scruggs' life. His wife and manager, Louise Scruggs, mixed things up too. She was Nashville's first female manager, and she was the one who pushed her husband to play outside traditional country venues. Acknowledging Louise's influence, Scruggs once said, “She advanced me, and...helped shape music up as a business, instead of just people out picking and grinning.”
Scruggs is also credited with bringing the banjo back from the brink of oblivion. It's tinny sound was considered old fashioned at best or, at worst, downright funny. By the 1940s, the banjo was more popular with comedy acts than serious musicians. Scruggs, of course, changed that. He was the instrument's first virtuoso, and he laid the groundwork for what is approaching a century of banjo experimentation.
“I had no connection to the South, to bluegrass music or to the banjo, but that sound just changed me," said Bella Fleck, who recently composed and performed a banjo concerto with a full orchestra. He first heard Scruggs play in the opening to the television show The Beverly Hillbillies, and says that Scruggs “took the banjo to where it became a major musical instrument in the world."
Scruggs' far reaching influence will be remembered by friends and fellow artists this afternoon during a Memorial Service at Nashville's Ryman Auditorium. Fittingly, this is the spot where he changed the face of music with his 1945 Opry performance. The service will even be broadcast on the same station that beamed that show into homes so many years ago--WSM 650.
If you can't get the station on your AM dial, you can always listen online. Tune in at 2:00 CDT to hear memories of Scruggs.
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