Continued... bother to own a real high-fidelity sound system, preferring instead to listen to music through earbuds, rendering compressed digital files. Ken was right that there will be many people that won’t appreciate the sound of real high-fidelity. He was barking up the wrong tree with my son, who owns a turntable and buys a lot of his music on vinyl. Music fans who care about fidelity can get their digital music in formats with higher sample rates and less compression – CD quality or something near to it. But what about those masses that never bother to buy a turntable, or seek out higher fidelity formats? I suggest they will still live decent lives, be productive members of society and some of them, dare I say it, will actually be music lovers. Let’s face it – the percentage of people who invest in really decent sound gear is not that great. I have had many more lousy stereos than really good ones. I have really enjoyed the music when I had access to nice systems to hear it on, but I have also spent many hours enjoying music on little transistor radios, cheap turntables with quarters taped to the tone arms, and cheap cassette decks. The conceit of age is when we assume our generation is smarter than the ones that preceded us, or the ones we precede. It’s when we assume the younger generation isn’t as nice as our generation was, buying into the sloppy intellectual conclusion that a few bad examples actually define a whole generation. I own a book, published in 1928, (titled “The Revolt of Modern Youth”) that hilariously declares the younger generation to be sex-crazed, devoid of manners and generally headed for depths of depravity. Socrates railed against the youth in his day as well, with the very same complaints. So yeah, the kids drive us crazy, and they don’t appreciate how good they have it, but youth is always wasted on the young, isn’t it? And lest you think I portrayed my buddy Ken as a hopeless curmudgeon, you should know that he teaches middle school and was the subject of a recent article in the local paper about how he plays music with the students and knows how to play all the songs THEY like. What’s even cooler is, the next day, we played some music together, in a rock’n’roll ensemble that included us old geezers on electric guitars and bass, and, representing his generation (which will inherit this Earth for a little while), my son on the drums. It was a splendid jam! So, the next time you reach for your mallet to pound in a Keep Off sign, remember – the kids are just gonna tear it down. Plymouth”Bluegrassin’ in the Foothills”! Time to head to the Gold Country & Fine Winery’s Guest column from Larry Baker Tuesday, September 7, 2010 Once again as we turn the corner towards fall it’s time to wrap up a great festival season with some fine festivals in the month of Sept. Sept has been declared bluegrass month. It all kicks off Labor Day w/e with the very successful Strawberry Music festival leading up to the third w/e (9/17-9/19) for Plymouth time! Yes it’s the 8th annual Plymouth Bluegrassin’ in the Foothills and the time of year when the leaves start to change, the weather becomes cooler (although this summer has been unseasonably cool) and fall begins to take hold. The beautiful evenings make for a perfect setting for those great late-night Plymouth jams in every nook & cranny and along the beautiful mid-way of this popular festival. Plymouth has become one of the most intimate festivals anywhere with its magical setting, offering a family friendly atmosphere where children can be a part of the event and parents can feel confident to let the kids become involved. Plymouth jamming has blossomed into some of the best on the west coast with its mystic & home town festival atmosphere. Our goal remains to create a festival atmosphere where everyone has a fun experience with lots of laugher, enjoyment of old friends while making new ones and enjoying this wonderful music along the way. Plymouth has become a dominate festival force with a blend of few rules, lots of fun & laughter and great on & off stage music. We continue to bring solid entertainment with award winning national bands from throughout the U S. while maintaining and including a good combination of California’s outstanding talented bands. Camping at Plymouth is abundant and like no other with upwards of 70%-75% of the campers having an electric hookup with no additional costs. Water is plentiful and the hot showers and restrooms are clean. It has been said “L&S Promotion’s festivals are like no other.” You can be the judge of what that means! We do take pride in our festivals on “you” the “fans” having a great festival experience….L&S style, while giving you those personnel touches. Be prepared to indulge in some good old fashion fun & laughter and going home with what we feel will be a great experience. New for 2010: Show off your DOG with the” MUTT STRUT” CONTEST! Final details are being worked out. (watch for updates in the coming days)! Kelly Senior has agreed to head up this fun event for all of our lovable dogs and their owners. We will limit it to DOGS ONLY this year until we get the bugs worked out. I am anticipating prizes (to be determined) for each category winner. It will take place away from the mainstream of the festival and midway, thus keeping our lovable friends away from those who aren’t fond of the furry critters! L&S Promotions is stepping out again! Here’s your chance to have your Fido’s & Fidette’s involved in Bluegrassin' in the Foothills at the inaugural Plymouth Festival “MUTT STRUT” & Bluegrass show. Stay tuned! This may be a bluegrass first? We want to give you your monies worth and if you haven’t heard, by attending Plymouth you can double your fun as L&S Promotions and the CBA sponsored Hobbs Grove festival which takes place in Sanger, Ca. the weekend after Plymouth with a one time opportunity to attend both festivals for the price of one. Yes this is the deal of the year folks while at Plymouth you can redeem your FREE coupon for Hobbs Grove Sept. 24-26. If you have already purchased Hobbs Grove tickets not to worry, CBA will refund your Hobbs Grove ticket money. It’s pretty simple and a way to attend back to back festivals. Take advantage of this great opportunity that CBA has offered. L&S stands behind this incredible offer and wants to acknowledge the CBA’s generosity. You can go directly from Plymouth to Hobbs where Kelly Broyles & Marcos Alvira and their wonderful volunteers will be awaiting your arrival. It doesn’t get any better than this with a chance to hit two of September’s festivals for the price of one. We are poised, ready and the Plymouth work is just about complete as the festival kicks off with early camping/jamming beginning Monday Sept 13, 2010. Over the years Monday is a day of excitement of the arriving fans, anticipation of friends waiting for friends, people claiming their favorite spots, people looking for those precious electrical outlets, the sound of laugher, the sights and sounds of “GOOD TO SEE YOU” or ”WHAT GREAT WEATHER” and our favorite “THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST FESTIVAL YET”! Just seeing and anticipating the building of the festival, beginning with the arrival of the fans, then the stage, lights, sound, vendors more fan arrivals and finally the bands, makes for an enjoyable time. The bands are ready to bring it to you! The Kids on Stage program is growing every year where Frank Solivan Sr. continues his hard work and dedication towards the program. A great big thank you to Frank and his fine staff! The sound will be outstanding with John Senior Sound CO. The vendors will display their wares, excellent food & beverage, the classic car show (Sat) band workshops, a new set of emerging artists bands (Fri), the newly added Plymouth DOG Show Contest and more. The preparation & planning is complete with a few details of follow-up and we will then be underway for what promises to be another great week of bluegrass in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. All this is a recipe for bunches of fun, outstanding entertainment, bluegrass memories, relaxation, renewing friendships and of course the best music on earth. Now it’s time to get ready, set, & let’s all go to Plymouth where “LIFE IS TRULY GOOD!” Remember right after Plymouth head to Hobbs Grove for FREE. Here’s a chance to wrap up a great Sept. festival season. See you there! REMINDERS Vote Instrument Raffle California Showcase Band Submission Happy Labor Day Today's column from Mark Varner Monday, September 6, 2010 Dear friends, Happy Labor Day. It’s as good a time as any to remember that people who shower after work, instead of before, built this country. Last weekend I went out to lunch with my wife Allison, daughter Veronica and a family friend. Veronica had read about a place called the Harbor Café, near the Santa Cruz Yacht Harbor. The thing that caught my girl’s attention was the fact that they not only allow dogs, they cater to them, including offering a whole menu for the canine set. So we loaded Carson the pug into the car and took advantage of the fine weather to dine al fresco con pooch. Carson does not care where you take him, just as long as he gets to hang out with his people. He sat at our table and chewed on the chicken jerky we ordered for him without causing a bit of fuss. As I was munching on fish tacos and settling into my second mimosa I got to thinking about dogs in public spaces. All the dogs and owners at the Harbor Café made coexisting look pretty simple. And dogs at a bluegrass festival? Well, it’s done, just not done at the CBA’s Father’s Day event. The Plymouth Festival is very dog friendly. Larry Baker just announced that they’re even having a dog show contest at Bluegrassin’ in the Foothills this year. That’s one festival to which we always bring Carson. He loves it. That critter was born to live in a tent, I think. But it’s a thorny and controversial issue for the CBA’s flagship event in Grass Valley. Beyond concern for the feelings of attendees to be taken into account are the policies of the Nevada County Fairgrounds. Naturally litigation is of concern to the CBA as well. And so it goes. Every year we hear from the RV set who frequently travel everywhere with their teacup sized dogs and find an issue with boarding their little family member in order to come to our festival. Good points, bad points. This is not the only perennial issue for our board of directors. Some items come up time and again and have to be dealt with by new generations of leadership. Needless to say the most pressing issue, especially in these economic times, is the CBA’s budget. But many smaller concerns and ideas wind up on the agenda at association meetings. Overall, I have been impressed with the work of our board(s). The CBA is alive and kickin’, after all. Anyone interested should drop by a board meeting and see for himself or herself. There are even refreshments. You might want to become a part of the team yourself. At the moment there are 12 candidates for 13 seats. It could be that the 13th seat is decided by write-ins on the ballot. Naturally we have to weed out the folks who receive votes and don’t want to serve from those who are willing. So there is a horse race of sorts this year. They’ll be discussing the nuts and bolts of this topic at the September 12th CBA board meeting in Morgan Hill. Now it’s time to vote. You can vote on line, like a lot of folks who read these daily missives will do. I did want to point out a new way we are making the ballot available to our membership. The ballot will be an insert in your September and October/November Bluegrass Breakdowns. We’re using stiff paper so the ballots get through the U.S. mail without being damaged. Thanks for voting. Your pal, Mark Varner mrvarner@ix.netcom.com Birthdays and Growing-Up Fast Today's column from Marcos Alvira Sunday, September 5, 2010 I have to admit, after being selected to serve on the Board of Directors, I didn’t much miss sharing an office with Slim. As many of you know, as newbie monthly columnists, we shared the cramped quarters of an old Econoline van on blocks in the back parking lot of the CBA Tower. His legs are long, and that van can get ripe during the hot summer months of July and August. It has been several months now since they moved me indoors to a cramped broom closet of an office. I’m getting used to the scent of that oil they put on those red dust mops; I’ve lost a couple of pounds running donuts and coffee to the big boys and gals upstairs; and the typewriter they’ve given me is actually electric. Despite the soft life, I sometimes wax nostalgic for the days when Slim and I would exchange kind, gentle words of encouragement when the rain would leak through the van’s rust holes. My heart will always have a soft place for Slim’s warm chuckle and gentle sense of humor. It’s hard to believe that it has only been a short year since receiving my first assignment as a CBA cub columnist. In fact, September not only marks my first anniversary as a writer, but it’s also a birthday of sorts: I joined the CBA three years ago at my first Hobbs Grove Festival. My, how things have turned 180 degrees since then! Like most newcomers, I recall attending CBA functions very cautiously, looking for folks that might be also new. Perhaps we could cling together like the shipwrecked mariners I’ve read about, linking arms in a tight circle, keeping each other afloat in rough seas. Of course, the seas were smooth and calm (I’m sure you’re wondering just how far this guy can extend a metaphor—which gives me an idea for a column!) and soon I was looking forward to future events and frequently checking the message board so I could hear from all my new pals. An early misconception I had was that the CBA was run by a board of powerful, semi omniscient bluegrass beings bent on statewide bluegrass dominance—at least those were the rumors I heard whispered in hushed tones in some circles. I figured there had to be an office with at least a couple of full time staffers to manage the huge bankroll that was sure to be the CBA budget, for statewide bluegrass dominance cannot come cheap. Of course, the closest we have to corporate headquarters is Diana Donnelly’s dining room, where Board meetings are held, and Rick Cornish’s Blackberry. I was shocked, even embarrassed, to learn that the soft spoken, handle bar mustachioed gentleman I met at Grass Valley, or that gentle, hippie-souled lady who handed me a grilled cheese sandwich late one night at a festival jam were part of the so called cabal. As I slowly got to know the Board members, I learned that they were full time employees, entrepreneurs, parents and grandparents. In fact, the entire fabric of the CBA, every activity and function, is a cloth woven from the energies of dozens of volunteers. It has certainly been an enlightening and fulfilling three years. I’ve made dozens of friends; gained greater insight and passion for a music I already loved, and have learned to make decent biscuits and gravy. What’s more, opportunities quickly opened by which I had the opportunity to give a little back to the community. I’ve been told that thousands of people access our CBA web site a day. By logical extension, thousands of you are probably reading our columns. It makes me wonder just how many new, potential picking friends are out there, just waiting for us to hook-up at a jam. It also makes me wonder how much more the Association could accomplish for the advancement of old time, bluegrass and gospel if just a tenth of our readership were to take one tiny step forward and volunteer even in the smallest way. The first step of course is becoming a member, and if you already are, then the next baby step forward is voting—either by the paper ballot in your Breakdown or electronically. By doing this, you are assuring that our election has a quorum and we can continue to move forward. As in any democratic institution, your ballot is your voice, so please stand and be heard. As sure as I’m sitting here writing, September marks my bluegrass birthday. Please come on out and help me celebrate at the Hobbs Grove Festival (www.hobbsgrovebluegrassfestival.org) September 24 through the 26. Remember the two for one deal with Larry Baker’s festival in Plymouth—go to his and get into ours free! I’d love to see some new faces and sit down to visit and pick with you. ELECTION REMINDER--Please remember to vote in this year's board of directors election. You can clip out the ballot in the Bluegrass Breakdown and send it in, you can wait till the Plymouth or Hobbs festivals and vote at the CBA membership booth our you can click here and vote online. Whichever way you do it, PLEASE DO IT. To Further Complicate Bert’s Dilemma Today's column from Slim Stuart Saturday, September 4, 2010 As an RV “newbie”, I can’t resist commenting on Bert Daniel’s recent column, and the lengthy Message Board thread engendered by it, concerning his self-flagellation over whether to buy an RV or remain a “tenter”. Mrs. Slim and I got over sleeping on the ground a long time ago. Until last year, our festival attendance involved staying in motels, which does not lend itself well to wee hours jamming (she folds up like a cheap suitcase at 9:30 or 10:00, while I’m just getting started). With an RV, you can turn in when you want, and when you step out in the morning, you’re already there. So when we decided we wanted to do more “festin’”, we decided to get a trailer. The comforts of home wherever you are. No argument with those who like to “rough it,” but if it spoils your festival experience, why do it? Several posters on the MB thread had some good suggestions. Buying an RV is kind of like buying a car, with a lot more choices. Renting one might indeed be a good idea, although we didn’t do it. We did look at a bunch of them and consulted with folks who’ve owned one (or more). We got one with the features we thought we wanted and so far, so good. Buying a clean, well-kept used rig can save you big bucks if you’re not one who must have brand-new. Either way, you need to decide if you’re going to use it enough to make the purchase and upkeep costs worthwhile. The things aren’t cheap. If you’re only going out two or three times a year, rent or tent. Getting your rig is just the start! Guys, listen to me (if you’re traveling alone, you can skip this part). Your wife is going to discover a HUGE bunch of stuff that you just can’t live without. Sure it’s nice to have real plates and flatware, but you’ll soon find that you must have a large rug to put outside (so you don’t get your boots dirty before you set out to wander around the thirty acre campground) and lights to string around your awning. Maybe a flag or whirligig on a pole to mark your rig. Or a fancy sign with your names on it. The curtains will, of course, be terrible and have to be changed. I think Mrs. Slim bought more stuff to put in our rig than in our new house! Buy yourself some stock in Camping World. Also in that vein, some clown has opened a whole chain of stores called ‘The Container Store” Guess what they sell there – that’s right, containers! All sizes and shapes of fancy plastic boxes with matching, snap-on lids. You can’t stow anything in your RV without first putting it in a container. The extra blanket won’t go in that under-the-bed storage unless it’s in a container. You must have a nifty divider tray in the drawer to keep the spoons from crashing into the forks. There’s no end to it! If I may wax serious for a moment, consider operation of a machine like an RV. For all it’s good points, it has limits. It won’t go every place your Jeep will. You will need to practice some new driving techniques such as backing and wide turns or you will learn the hard way. Hitching up a fifth-wheel can be an adventure in itself – there’s no “give” in the pinbox and truck tailgates are made of tinfoil! (I know!). Get an experienced friend to help you learn your way around. Practice in an area where you have room to make mistakes without breaking something. When you’re looking for a parking spot in a strange place, ask yourself how you’re going to get out BEFORE you get in. And read, understand and follow the instructions for all your equipment. Hope I haven’t talked anybody out of RVing. We’re enjoying the heck out of it and you can probably strike up more conversations talking about your rig than your new guitar. Ten Items or Less: September-Isleton 2010 Today's column from Brooks Judd Friday, September 3, 2010 Item 1: Isleton: What a difference a year makes. Last year it was hot and humid and the turnout was a bit sparse during the evening jams. This year the weather is beautiful and a full house of supporters listened for three plus hours to music on Thursday and Friday night provided by CBA and non CBA members. It was great fun. Item 2: I was sitting in cabin # 8 being “anti-social” as my good friend Rick says reading a book about the rise of LBJ (Lyndon Johnson) in 1941.I hear someone lumbering up the ramp to the door. I put my book down and look out the window. It’s Cliff Compton, poet laureate of the CBA. I hear a quiet knock on the door and a voice says, “Brooks, can I come in?” I rise from the huge sofa-sleeper bed walk to the door and escort Cliff in. We have a wonderful conversation for about 90 minutes or so. Cliff has an inner calm that is expressed in his thoughts, words and actions. It is easy to see why so many folks are proud to call Cliff a friend. We talked about many things and since Cliff is a private person I won’t reveal all of them. But I got the OK to mention Cliff’s brief gig with the CIA, being a major-key member of an elite group in orchestrating the seeding of the clouds at Woodstock creating a massive thunderstorm (putting a damper on all those hippie long hairs), and being instrumental in starting the “Paul is Dead” rumor. Look for these and other fantastic tales in Cliff’s next book, “Confessions of a 4 Ply Man, My life inside the CIA.” From what Cliff has told me this has best seller written all over it. Cliff also told me that he and Chef Mike are in the planning stages of creating a Greek/Aleut/Pakistani/themed restaurant at Black Rock Desert in Northern Nevada, site of the “Burning Man” festival. They plan to feed the hungry hordes of Burning Man followers as well as selling CBA paraphernalia to the denizens. Good luck to Cliff and Mike. Item 3: After Cliff left I picked up my book again, located my spot and began to read. There was another knock on the door. I put my book down and heard a voice say, “Chicken tacos at Chef Mike’s next door.” I walked out of room #8 beginning to wonder if I would ever get past the second chapter of my book. One would think some sort of event or festival was going on. Being a born again loner from way back I can only scratch my head and follow the sensuous aroma of chicken tacos wafting from Chef Mikes abode. Mike’s lovely lady friend, Anna, and his two dogs were on the porch and I could see Mike through the sliding screen door cooking up a storm. He invited me in with a wave of his hand and told me to sit down. He gently placed a plate of two mouth watering tacos in front of me and said, “Dig in.” I dug down into the tasty chicken tacos and my taste buds awoke with a start like they were zapped with a cattle prod. Then Chef Mike pointed to a program that was placed right next to my plate. I put down my taco, wiped my hands, and picked up the program .The cover read,”Giants-Yankees 1962 World Series Program: 50cents. My eyes widened as I carefully picked up the 48 year old program and began to gingerly leaf through it. What was more amazing was that either Chef Mike’s mother or father had kept score in the program. Yankees 6 -Giants 2. I began drooling with envy and Mike had to dab my chin with what remained of my chicken taco stained napkin. Mike then pointed to a little orange plastic cone that was right next to the Giants program. It was an official SF Giants megaphone. Right in front of me was a program AND a megaphone from the 1962 World Series. I’d died and gone to Heaven. Item 4: How to choose an emcee for Hobbs Festival: At the last CBA board meeting Marcos stated that the Hobbs Festival needed one more emcee. Rick Cornish suggested they write down the names of the daily columnists, put the names in Snap Jackson’s hat, and draw one name. Rick insisted on writing down all the names himself. Marcos placed his hand inside the hat, and withdrew one of the pieces of paper. As the board members waited Marcos carefully unfolded the piece of paper and read, “Brooks Judd.” A hushed silence shrouded the room. In unison 13 boards members yelled out, WHO!” Noticing a demonic smile on Rick’s face Marcos opened up all the other scraps of paper. It appears my name was written on all of them as well. Because my number “came up” I am allowed to put on a pair of long pants, make the two hour drive to the Hobbs Grove Festival, check in, grab some 3X5 cards, slowly walk up onto the stage and be an Emcee for a couple of hours on Friday. And who says anti-social people don’t get their due? Item 5: Quiz Time: What famous American said this? “I have been unable to save much money in my life. I have been in politics, and in politics an honest man does not get rich.” Hint: Initials are SR and he WAS a Texan. Until next time, smile, read a book, give thanks, and be nice to a child. Mentors Today's column from Nancy Zuniga Thursday, September 2, 2010 This coming Sunday, I'm looking forward to a visit with one of the greatest people I've ever been privileged to know. Flossie Lewis was my English teacher during my sophomore year at Abraham Lincoln High School in San Francisco. As the classic nerd, I wasn't a happy kid in high school, but Mrs. Lewis' class was the one bright spot in my otherwise gloomy school days. A gifted writer, Mrs. Lewis encouraged her students to stretch the boundaries of their imaginations, often through methods as non-traditional as climbing atop her desk to make a point, or lacing her speech with pithy Yiddish aphorisms. This tireless educator was in her seventies when she returned to school to earn a doctorate degree. Whatever pleasure or inspiration I've ever had in writing anything, be it a letter, song, or CBA welcome column, I have my old teacher to thank for her acceptance of my sometimes unorthodox means of self-expression. I was especially fortunate in that Mrs. Lewis (or “Flossie”, as she asked me to call her in later years), became a family friend, which made it possible for us to keep in touch through the years. Now in her mid-eighties, Flossie still writes short stories for publication in magazines. She always looks forward with delight to hearing my newest original songs, and, since meeting Henry, she has embraced him as if he had also been one of her students. In a sense, we both continue to be disciples of this remarkable woman. The boundless fountain of inspiration and creativity that is Flossie Lewis has nurtured generations of students and enriched countless lives. So why am I talking about Flossie Lewis in a bluegrass welcome column? Flossie was and continues to be my mentor, someone who believed in and encouraged me even when others were less than enthused with my endeavors. I've witnessed this mentoring spirit numerous times since joining the bluegrass community. Some folks have natural talent and intuition and seem to require little direction, but there are so many more who might have become discouraged after their first feeble attempts at playing an instrument or singing a song, were it not for someone who gave of their time and showed an interest in that individual's progress and potential. So often, someone within our bluegrass family will take a newcomer aside and teach him or her a guitar lick, a breathing technique, a more comfortable way to bow the fiddle, or a pointer on jam etiquette. Those persons may just think that they are passing along a bit of friendly advice, and it may never occur to them that they are, in fact, mentors. Nonetheless, they are imparting their wisdom based on years of experience and observation, and in doing so, they may be setting their protegé on their way to many years of enjoyable playing by helping them to develop good habits and by nipping bad ones in the bud. Sometimes mentoring takes a more formal and intensive approach, as in music camp or festival workshops. Who has mentored you? Who have you mentored? When Flossie earned her doctorate degree, her former students surprised her with a congratulatory party where one person after another stood up to give a testimonial on how their beloved teacher had shaped their life's successes. Rest assured that when you give of your time and attention, your gift may impact the recipient in ways that you can't imagine, and may be passed along to enrich the lives of future generations. It's great to resonate! Today's column from Bruce Campbell Wednesday, September 1, 2010 If you play music often enough, with enough different people, you will discover that there are some folks who seem to bring out the best in your playing, or your singing, or both. It happens to everyone, at every level, and once you’ve experienced this, you are always trying to recapture the feeling. We often hear instrument makers speaking of a tonewood being resonant. I first encountered the phrase in college, in Electronics, when we studied resonant circuits. In a resonant circuit, the amplitude of a wave form jumps up when the frequency of the AC current matches the oscillation that results from the circuitry itself. Mumbo jumbo, yes, but when we had these little test circuits (consisting of a variable resistor and an inductor) hooked up to an oscilloscope, the size of the wave would increase dramatically when changing the resistance (a/k/a “tuning the circuit”) caused the circuit’s oscillation to match the AC current frequency. The result was greater than the sum of it parts – or so it seemed. I think a great tonewood may not necessarily amplify a sound, but it can facilitate it so well, by having vibration characteristics so in tune with the sounds applied to them, that the tones fairly jump out. Let’s face it – the minute you create a musical note, the whole world conspires to destroy it. Everything it touches seeks to absorb it, starting with the very air through which it travels. So anything you can do to preserve and prolong the sound gives it a special, pleasing ring. The best singers know how to use their head and chest to resonate with the tones being produced, and when you play in a circle with these folks – you know it. Their voices seem to start about a foot outside their mouths, rather than inside. Their voices carry through the air with a special power not necessarily related to the volume. Now THAT’S resonance! And so it goes with these special folks whose sound and tone matches up so well with you own, that suddenly YOUR sound jumps out like never before. The first time it happens, you want to take the credit for it yourself. “I’ve really turned a corner in my playing (or singing)”, you think to yourself. And so you move on to another jam to inflict your newfound musical wonderfulness onto some other jammers. Then you discover the magic has fled. Your voice is pitchy, your rhythm ragged and your phrasing awkward. The players with whom you resonate may not have much to do with tone, specifically. It could be their style of playing particularly matches or complements your own. It could be that their sense of rhythm perfectly meshes with, or supports your rhythm. If often is subtle, which is why it can be hard to spot. You may play with a person on and off over a period of years before you realize your “hot nights” always seem to include sessions with this person. Whatever the reason, when you stumble across a way to “tune your resonant circuit”, it adds a whole new dimension to your enjoyment of playing music! Evolving/Progressing Today's column from Rick Cornish (rcornish@sjcoe.net) Tuesday, August 31, 2010 Another beautiful day in California’s Mother Lode, where gold was king one hundred and fifty years ago, where picturesque little mining towns all along Highway Forty-Nine once provisioned an army of men in desperate search of that one big strike, and where today Walmarts from one end of the Lode to the other are choking out the last vestiges of what was once the epitome of everything that was good and innovative about American mercantilism. Heck, in two months a new Lowes opens in Sonora, population 4,978. And what of the four hardware stores that have been struggling here during this past recession? Let them eat cake! But I digress. On to bluegrass. You all know, of course, that those profound and evasive questions, what is bluegrass, where’s it headed and why, are no closer to being answered than they were when the debate began. But every now and then it can be instructive (well, at least entertaining) to look in on the question, so I pulled out a typical little skirmish from the Bluegrass L. This one’s got an uncharacteristically scientific bent to it….. Mr. Monroe was an innovator, considered a radical by some, was always on the lookout for something new, by constantly writing songs, [he penned over 350, at least] whether on the road, or at home, or as he put it, "...pulling the notes...out of the air, and fitting them together"..... ..changing....but remaining within the loosely knit foundations...stepping stones..... Listen to the recordings The Old Man [who was young back then, 1940-50's Bear Family Box Set.]....made with Owen Bradley, Paul Cohen; .....sure, the recordings never made it out of the can back in the day, not a commercial success.....but I enjoy listening to them anyway.. and playing them on my weekly show. on WMMT, 88.7fm.I always seem to hear something new... [ Hammond organ, snare, electric bass..!!.... he was willing and able to explore, taking chances.... ] yet, he made it sound ancient.....timeless...it's all good....... mrsBG The key here, is that these cuts did not see the light of day except on a bootleg french lp and the completist Bear Family set. Even Mr. Monroe did not inflict Hammond Organs on his audience and call it bluegrass. I think, for a band to be truly top notch, it must have its own sound. "Evolution" to one ear is vandalism to another. We'll never agree collectively about what fits in each category. Arthur Berman North Vancouver, BC You dare to presume what Mr. Monroe's thoughts were, in order to fit into your interpretation of bluegrass?? ;-) Bill Well, yes but once he found out what his audience wanted, the left of center stuff stopped... He continued to bring out new or "new" old material which seems contrary to Mr Foster's definition of "Traditional" Bluegrass but the experimentation stopped... And, many will argue that not all of the experiments were his idea... Tt Hmmm. How can you call Mr. Monroe's music 'traditional' when there was nothing like it beforehand? Bill Actually, this is an interesting point. One person cannot evolve. Evolution consists of three components: -- Innovation -- Selection -- Transmission Without innovation, there's nothing new. Without selection, there's no "weeding out." Without transmission, innovations cannot be perpetuated With natural evolution in biology, it is only innovation that occurs through chance (e.g., by mutation). Selection and transmission can be very deliberate. Bob in AZ This almost makes me believe in the theory of gravity. Archie From the reading about Monroe that I've done, I'd say it came down to inspiration, crafting and some serendipity. He was pretty obviously inspired by the old time music he absorbed as a youngster and identified himself as a repository of traditional country music. But he also crafted the music to fit his own tastes and there was the lucky chance of hiring a firebrand banjo player with a distinct style. In my opinion if any of these 3 driving forces gets out of whack, you're likely not to succeed in being a tastefully creative bluegrass artist. You need to derive something from the traditions without just Xeroxing what's come before, you have to do some shaping and texturing of your own and you have to hope that something completely unexpected in the mixture pops up. My distaste for a lot of progressive bluegrass music arises from what sounds to me to be a conscious attempt to alter or augment the music just for the sake of alteration. These folks have zeroed in on the innovation part without regard to good taste. Dan This thread reminds me of my post exactly three years ago (subject line was The Real Bluegrass Fragrance) when we released the "RBF" accompanied by a simulation feature for any lister to build his own blend of bluegrass fragrance "MFB - My Bluegrass Fragrance" on an excel spread sheet. This perfume is still "in the air" at www.bluegrass.com.br/RealBluegrassFragrance.htm. And we would feel happy now to receive and add some more evolving/progressing samples for evaluation coming from all across the bluegrass world. Erio Meili Inconclusive? Of course, they always are, but you never know what new twists the experts will come up with. Evolution this week, who knows, Masonic conspiracy next week. Have a terrific day and, friends, please vote. 5th annual International Bluegrass Festival La Roche-sur-Foron France Guest column from Lilly Pavlak Monday, August 30, 2010 In a beautiful medieval town in Haute Savoy, in a picturesque location in the foothills of the French, the fifth annual bluegrass festival Alps started on 28th July. In five years of its existence it has become the major European bluegrass event of the year. This year it again attracted several thousands visitors. The event was organized as usual by Christopher Howard Williams and Didier Philippe, with support of the Tourist Office and Town’s Mayor. Of course, this unforgettable weekend would not have been possible without the help of over one hundred and fifty local volunteers. This year the festival was preceded by three-days of bluegrass instruments and vocal workshops, with members of the Hickory Project and Sue Thompson from the U.S. Wednesday night concerts were held around the town. Five days of music, 40 free concerts with 31 bands all over Europe and U.S. – a real Bluegrass Celebration. As usual a part of the festival was the European Band Contest. Ten bands from over thirty were pre-selected by the international festival jury and invited to compete as contest finalists. Thursday evening started with a concert of workshop participants. The weather was cloudy, it was getting dark and the rain was in the air. The main program started at 6.30 p.m. with four European bands: Brzdari from Czech Republic; Roots & Galoots from Wales and Nashville Airplane from France. Mideando String Quintet from Italy it was dry again. In the student dormitory, where the most musicians stayed, some jam sessions followed. Friday welcomed us with some sunshine. During lunch time bluegrass bands were playing at almost every restaurant and café in town. In the afternoon we had time enough to admire many of the local historical sites. The evening show was opened by the French band Tennessee Stud. There were three bands competing that night: Wyrton from Czech Republic, Covered Grass from Germany and Blackjack from Czechoslovakia (CZ). The stars of the night shined on the stage--Dale Ann Bradley & the BlueBillies (Steve Gulley, Kim & Joel Fox and Alan Bibey). What a band!!! The last group, Italian Red Wine came after midnight. After a short night with many jam sessions came a sunny Saturday morning. The festival started around 11.30 a.m., with Czech Twisted Timber, German Roots Experience, French Stepping Stones and Swiss Rick Noorlander & Karin Streule. The afternoon break brought a lot of activities for the whole family; a children’s program, line dance show and more. In the music school master workshops were held for banjo, mandolin, guitar, fiddle and dobro. In the town’s pavilion were many stands selling old and new recordings and other music stuff. A lot of live concerts happened everywhere around the restaurants and cafes. The evening program started at 5 p.m. with the New Essex Band from Great Britain, last year’s second place act. Jirka Kralik & Rowdy Rascals from the Czech Republic, the winners of 2007, followed. The competing bands of the day were Quartier Francais (Finland), Sidlo, a great traditional band from Slovakia and international G-Runs & Roses (NL/CZ/SK, which took home the title of the European Bluegrass Band of the Year 2010 from EWOB Holland. They won the audience hearts by storm. And finally the U.S. headliner Hickory Project from Pennsylvania came on the stage. They played very fast and very good. Thousands were clapping hands and screaming. It was not easy for the young Czech band Krenii, last year’s winner, to follow the Hickory Project, but at least a thousand fans remained for their great performance. Sunday morning was marvelous. The visibility was excellent so we could see all the mountains from the dormitory windows. Blackjack (CZ) was playing and singing gospels during the Sunday morning Mass in the beautiful old church. At noon the festival continued with my favorite Dutch band Lazy Tater and then Album from the Czech Republic; great performance, what a pity they did not make it for the contest. The competing bands that day were Bononia Grass from Italy, Poa Pratensis from Hungary, and Dessert from Czech Republic (with two female singers). Instead the Acousticure from Hungary, which unfortunately could not come, the great French band Bluegrass 43 got on stage. It was getting dark and windy very fast and rain did not take long to wait. The black clouds covered the heaven and the first lightings crossed the sky. People looked for shelter in the VIP tent and sales booths. Because strong winds were reported, the festival moved into a huge gym, where the French band Howling Fox started immediately to play. The big moment everybody was waiting for came at 7.30 p.m. and the contest winners were proclaimed. G-Runs & Roses (NL/CZ/SK won first place won–-you’ll have the opportunity to see them next year at the IBMA. Ralph Schut, their happy Dutch front man, who moved to Czech Republic a couple years ago, accepted the award for the band, which had already left. The second place went to the great Czech band Blackjack and I had the honor to accept their award for them, because they were on their way home already. The third award went to another Czech Band, Dessert--the only band whose members were still present. Congratulations to all the winners. It showed once again that Czech bluegrass rules Europe! Unfortunately, my friends I came with had to leave, so we saw only a couple of songs by the U.S. old time band RedDog. When Abigael Orchestra (Finland) came on we were already crossing French-Swiss border…. Thanks to Christopher Didier, the Town of La Roche and all the 150 volunteers! Once more we all felt at home in your beautiful town. You are wonderful hosts! How far would you go? Today's column from Carolyn Faubel Saturday, August 28, 2010 How far would you go to make your host or hostess feel comfortable, that is, not embarrassed, by a his or her culinary lapse or anomaly? Let’s say you are having dinner with your sweet mother, or your dear auntie, and she has served your favorite—meatloaf topped with barbeque sauce and caramelized onions. You slide some mashed potatoes over to join the beef and take a big bite. It’s then that you feel the unmistakable sensation of a hair in your mouth. What do you do? Do you abruptly stop chewing, squint your eyes, stick your thumb and index finger into your mouth and grope around until you find it, pulling it out and then holding it up for inspection? “Oh look! I found a hair in my food!” Or do you discretely spit the bite out into a napkin, not saying a word? Maybe it’s not a foreign object in the dish, but the dish itself. It tastes weird, not to your liking at all. In fact, you would rather not even try to choke it down. Perhaps you are eating over at your best buddy’s house, or maybe your in-laws. You didn’t know until you took a bite that the chicken was baked with a curry powder crust on it. And the soup tastes sort of swampy. What do you do? Do you say, “I can’t eat this. Do you have any peanut butter so I can make a sandwich?” Or do you politely pick at it and then stop by In and Out Burger on the way home? When I was a kid, we used to go visit the relatives in another state. One aunt invited all her family over to join us in a dinner, using the “good china” in the top cupboard. As luck would have it, I got the top plate. Which was dusty. The pattern hid it, but when I sat down to my food, I could see the layer. It wasn’t that appetizing, but I did feel very noble about not embarrassing my aunt. The best story I heard was from my sister. She was visiting her husband’s family and was served pheasant. The host was very proud of his presentation. She was served her section. Crunch! He had forgotten to remove the craw! She ate around it, not wanting to embarrass him by pointing it out. Yikes! I knew one man who was so terrified and disgusted about the mere idea of a hair in his food that he required his wife and daughters to have very short hair. Does a hair do it for you? Or is it bugs? Grit? Would you be discreet? Or do you feel like all the participants need to know what you found, or how you think the food tastes? Professional Musicianship 101: Be A Good Multi-tasker! Today's column from Bill Evans Friday, August 27, 2010 I always chuckle inside when I hear a non-musician comment about professional musicians being lazy, or not having to really work very hard. This kind of statement is frequently accompanied by a comment like, “Hey, you guys call it ‘playing’ music not ‘working’ music, right? It can’t be very difficult.” Then there are those times where you’ll hear folks say that being a professional musician must be about the best career imaginable: musicians get to live their dreams, travel all over the world, and make music all of the time, all day, every day and do all of the assorted fun things that musicians are supposed to be doing. I’m not really sure what all of those things are, but I imagine that they’re a lot different whether you make your living playing rock and roll, jazz, classical or bluegrass. I do know one thing about choosing this music thing as a career: regardless of whatever career level you have achieved, you have to be a great multi-tasker to accomplish all of the things that actually will allow you to get in a van or on a plane and go somewhere to play music for a paying audience AND come back home with enough income to pay the bills. I remember Béla Fleck telling me years ago that he feels like he spends more time on the phone talking business than he spends actually playing the banjo. I know I’ve certainly had those days myself, but probably not nearly as often as Béla. If for some reason, I couldn’t play music, I’ve thought about how I could put to use some of the other non-musical things that I’ve learned along the way that help to make a musical career possible. I could be a pretty good accountant, a detail-oriented personal assistant, a money-saving travel agent, or a savvy musical instrument appraiser. I could also probably be a decent personnel manager, a motivational speaker, a contract negotiator, a conflict resolution specialist or a non-profit fundraiser. If I had to, I could probably hang my shingle out as a copy editor, or maybe as an advertising executive or as a newspaper arts reviewer. If my musical career had taken a slightly different turn, I might have the skills to be a diesel mechanic, recording engineer, web and graphic designer, photographer, substance abuse, debt or marriage counselor, pre-school teacher or even a summer camp director. I’ve also realized that I probably could be really, really good telephone solicitor or used car salesman. Now that’s lonesome. While most folks who read these daily messages know that there’s a lot more to being a great bluegrass musician than just getting on stage and playing, keep in mind that it’s not only the long hours on the road and the many hours of practice that enables a musician to make it to your favorite stage. There’s also some great real world multi-tasking happening that also makes it all possible. Bill Evans bevans@nativeandfine.com Fast cars and used cars Today's column from J.D. Rhynes Thursday, August 26, 2010 Here earlier this week, I was talkin' to my good friend Ronnie Reno who is in Nashville, and the subject of fast cars that we've owned in our lifetime came up. The fastest vehicle I have ever owned, and still do, is a 1956 half ton Ford pick up truck. Back in 1969 I put a 392 cubic inch Chrysler Hemi engine out of a 1958 Chrysler 300 D, in that truck and it would run an honest 150 MPH on the road. I told Ronnie that it would make those telephone poles next to the road look like a picket fence, you were goin so fast! We had a good laugh over that one, then he told me of his fastest car, and a LOT more. Back in the early '60's when Ronnie was still in high school, he owned a '63 Ford that had a 406 cubic inch engine with 3 carb's and a 4 speed transmission. He said that sucker would jerk the front wheels clean off'n the ground, and do at leat 60 in first gear. He said it as so fast, that the local cops couldn't catch him, and every time they caught him standing still, they would give him a good lecture about NOT driving so fast! He said he didn't really know HOW fast it would go because it would peg the needle on the speedometer clean out of sight! From there he progressed into some bluegrass music history kinda accidentally. I asked him how old he was when he started driving, and he said he was at least 13 er 14 when he would sneak one of his dad's cars off of his used car lot and take his buddies joyriding. WHAT, sez I! You mean that THE Don Reno, master banjo picker extradordinaire, owned a used car lot? That's right Ronnie said. Dad had a car lot in Roanoke, Virginia fer at least 6 er 7 years, and when I first realized what a dealers "Tag" was, I snatched one fer myself and after hours, a few of my buddies and I would sneak a car off of the lot and drive all over town. He said that they would run the car durn near out of gas, and take it back and get another one, and do the same thing all over. Ronnie said the sales men were always losing a sale because they would take a customer out on a demo drive and the car would start sputterin' and run out of gas, and there went another potential sale. He said this went on fer a couple of years until his dad got suspicious and waited in the office late one nite, and caught him red handed as he went to get the keys of a car to take his buddies joyriding again! Don said, I figgered you bunch of 'lil heathens were the ones doin this! Ronnie said he blew up a red Jeep 7 times before he got caught, and his two BEST friends were the mechanic and paint man Don Reno employed to keep his cars running and looking good. Ronnie said the paint man, Deany Walters was the one who pulled his butt out of the fire several times over the years when he was a young teen ager! WE had a good laugh at all of the good times we had as teen agers, and agreed that we probably lived in the greatest time a teen ager could be raised in. Imagine buying a car from Reno's Discount Motors. Kinda boggles the mind dont it? Bluegrass is bustin' out all over Today's column from Bruce Campbell Wednesday, August 25, 2010 Please let this summer continue – we’re not done with yet! Is it just me, or does this seem like a banner year for bluegrass around the state? Oh, I’m sure on some level, someone could claim, and maybe even prove that the bluegrass music business is suffering from a down economy, like many other businesses this year. But I’m not talking about bluegrass music in a business context – I mean the music in every form and venue. It looks to me like it’s everywhere, being played by everyone this summer. The weather this summer has been terrific – cool mornings, followed by warm afternoons and temperate nights. But beyond the climate, I think there’s an actual uptick in demand for the music this summer. I know I’ve been very busy this summer, and I have seen a lot of my friends be just as busy. I’m seeing lots of pictures of smiling musicians at weddings, festivals, barbecues, coffee houses, pizza parlors, bars and about every other human gathering. I’ve seen George Martin with his Prairie Rose bandmates, Patrick Wade pickin’ and grinnin’, and my buddies in Spinning Wheel are delivering their old time sound to folks all over. Bluegrass seems to be the perfect soundtrack for a summer outdoor event, doesn’t it? This year’s Father’s Day Festival was amazing – from each of the stages, to every corner of the fairgrounds, folks were smiling, and sharing songs and music day and night. We all locked into the same not-so-well-kept secret of what summer is supposed to sound like. Further evidence of the special magic of this summer can be found in the accounts of two recent events. The recent campout at the Lighthouse Marina got rave reviews from everyone who was there, and to me, it seemed that the level of enthusiasm was higher than usual. It seemed like an awful lot of good memories were made that week! The Good Old Fashioned Festival was also, by all accounts, a smashing success. The musicians onstage spun their magic and in the campgrounds, pickers gathered in circles, and had their musical conversations by the glow of lanterns. I believe that 2010 is a year when our need to lose ourselves in music is on an upswing. I am seeing a higher than usual level of attention, and of involvement, in audiences. I am seeing some new converts to bluegrass. It’s great to see folks amazed by the beauty and power of live music, and be moved by it. Think of it – there are a lot of people accustomed to music at social events being provided by DJs. They’re used to dancing to canned music. Faceless music, made by machines. Then, they attend an event where the music is played by real people, with nothing but voices, wires and wood, and they are amazed, and they are transformed. I think a lot of people will be transformed this year. A little music camp retrospective Today's column from Rick Cornish (rcornish@sjcoe.net) Tuesday, August 24, 2010 Good early morning from Jamestown, California, population 961. We’ll have a hot time in the old town today. First story I viewed sipping my coffee this a.m. on mymotherlode.com……”Portions of the Motherlode could --emphasize could -- see temperatures of up to 110 degrees on Tuesday and Wednesday.” Now if that doesn’t get you re-evaluating your plans for the day, nothing will. I’m thinking I WON’T be working on the llama’s new winter enclosure today. By Saturday it’s supposed to drop to 80 degrees. Yesterday I received a cc: on an email from Whit Washburn to Mark Varner that read, “I want to let you know that I really liked the August Breakdown’s articles written by Music Camp participants! What a great way to get people excited about Music Camp AND involved in the CBA and Breakdown. Good going!” Whit’s email caused me to go back to my Breakdown and re-read the stories posted about Summer Music Camp ’10. For me, it’s hard to read these pieces without feeling some of the excitement of the writers. Let me share a few of my favorites…. FUN in Grass Valley John Oakie "Whadja do for Father's Day, Pops??" asked Number One son, calling from Las Vegas. My head filled with sounds and colors and laughter and music.. his "Pops??? Are ya there, Pops??" brought me back and so I told him, as I'm telling you now: I had fun. Fun with a capital F capital U capital N. FUN. I was present when "Cemetery Soup" was first made public. I laid claim to being the only person to have taken Dobro I for four straight years, from four different instructors, each an amazing craftsman in the best musicological tradition. I witnessed the continuing evolution of Jack Tuttle's incredible family, and of course AJ Lee. I have pictures.. I have video clips... I have memories that are more precious than any diploma or certificate or ribbon or medal. And, I'm here to attest that my Brethren.... my bluegrass brethren.. are a gentle civilized folk. Passionate about their music, certainly, but no arguing, no fussing, no pushing, no shoving, no line-jumping, no rudeness.. oh, my. Of course there's that guy in the corner noodlin' while we talk.. but what the hey. I spent some pleasant time at Vern's Stage, enjoying the OMGG group. Did you see the crowd of people there??? Saturday? After their performance they had their first CD for sale on the deck. I reached in my pants pocket for my small leather wallet and my pocket was empty. Hmmm.... half of my mind was retracing where I had been, the other half was planning.... I'd have to get my driver's license replaced, but I'm up for renewal in a couple of weeks...and my credit card.... ughhhhhhh. There was about 65 or so dollars in there also. I had spent a couple of hours before noon at the main stage... sitting in someone's chair, moving a couple of times, but right smack in the middle. I went back over to that area and went to the Lost and Found booth, next to KVMR. No luck. No one was playing just then, and most of the seats were empty, so I went back to where I was sitting. I looked down and there... I swear... glowing in a ray of sunlight, right in the middle of the seat, was my wallet. I looked around; there wasn't anyone with 50 feet of me except one fella sitting alone. I called to him and asked him to come to me, and he did. I told him I wanted him to witness this event and I showed him my DMV card, the credit card and the money, and I surely believe that he thought I had lost my mind, rather than my wallet. What can I say? I know now for certain sure that my bluegrass brethren have a strength of character, a rock-solid honesty never before encountered in MY lifetime, and I will turn Seventy in July. I thank each and everyone of you, for enriching my life. Music Camp, Grass Valley, June 2010 Annie Barrett Cashner (mountain dulcimer, dobro) The Historic Nevada City Fairgrounds snuggled into the ponderosa pine belt of the western Sierra offers a haven for the CBA Music Camp. It is music mania. There are more instruments and musicians per square campsite than anywhere else, at least in mid-June in California. How does one explain the camp, its people, the tasty food, and the many reasons for the musician campers to return year after year? The 2010 camp was my third year as a camper and I plan to return for more. Sometimes it’s like living from June to June just so I can pitch the tent again, attend the morning classes, choose from the myriad of afternoon class sections, then jam with old and new friends into the wee hours of the morning if we all choose. This is clearly the idea of FUN for the lucky ones who consider learning, sharing, and unifying generations through bluegrass to be the most enjoyable week of the year. The classes concentrate on instrumentation skill, and there is an air of dedication and seriousness as students scurry to their morning classes (M-W) for a three hour block of instruction. One can sign up for double bass, guitar, banjo, mandolin, dobro, fiddle, and voice . One chooses the skill level that seems more suitable: “Beginning” means able to play a few tunes is suggested, or “Intermediate” or “Advanced”. Spouses and families are welcome, and camping is fun with tent or motor home specific areas, showers and shade. It is best to sign up for the delicious camp meals and not have to cook for a few days as that frees one up to just play music and relax. Vegetarian fare is available upon request. Life is good at camp! There are campers and musicians of all ages. On this note, I am not sure if the generations unify the bluegrass music, or if bluegrass unifies the generations. However, bluegrass is for all ages and one can see a four-year-old tote a violin or a senior citizen enjoying himself at camp. Mandolin player Frank Sullivan said he used to come to the Father’s Day Festival as a boy, and this year he taught at the camp and then performed on stage at the festival. The members of another performing band at the Festival, G2, grew up in Sweden and their fathers played bluegrass at home so these performers grew up with the tunes and bluegrass movement to form the second generation of family bluegrass pickers (thus G2) . Someday perhaps there will be a G3 Band. The young OMGG Band of the camp (average age 12) astounded us old folks with their skillful harmonies, picking and arrangements. Don’t think it’s always the old who teach the young! Bluegrass is a multi-generational thing! Back at our camp jam, however, it was both the old teaching the young and the young teaching the old. Eager youthful fiddle player Galen and banjo player Ricky jumped in with our old time jam going strong. We were honored to have snagged their musical interests as they wandered into camp and new friendships were made. Indeed, the magic of bluegrass transcends something as trivial as how many times one has traveled around the sun. My compliments go out to those who chose the instructors this year. Where did you find these great instructors? I feel like I hit a gold mine to be taught by instructor Andy Hall, dobro player of the Infamous Stringdusters. And the afternoon workshops that this band gave were exceptional. Where else can one ask about song writing and composition, harmonies, sound systems, etc, and gather inspiration from a group of highly talented and approachable musicians who are sincere, friendly and encouraging? Andy Hall and Chris Pandolphi (banjo player of Infamous Stringdusters and instructor at camp) are also graduates of Berklee College of Music , thus these instructors brought tremendous knowledge and are fine examples to the youngsters at the camp who may be college students someday. Indeed, the professionalism at the camp became clear to me with the backgrounds and skills that these instructors shared. It was incredible to have the opportunity to learn from Andy as well as to watch and listen to him play on stage at the Father’s Day Festival which followed the camp. This is just not the type of thing that happens every day! It was like being in a candy store to meet such fine people and to receive such excellent instruction in a small group setting. Most of us realize that music is a path that we travel along. Sometimes the pathway just dead ends, but usually it just leads from one song to the next, or one instrument to the next, or certainly towards new friendships, skill levels and possibilities. If nothing else, music camp is an avenue for fun. With many thanks to the California Bluegrass Association, Camp Director Ingrid Noyes, the talented instructors and hard working staff, the dedicated volunteers and the happy campers themselves, the Grass Valley Music Camp 2010 was a fantastic success. Thank you to all that made camp possible , keep up the picking, and I’ll be looking for you at camp next year! So, if John and Annie’s stories inspired any of you out there to consider the CBA’s Music Camp for yourself, please be aware that our next outing is set for February 24, 2011 through the 27th. Click here for details. The Big Bang Theory of Bluegrass Guest column from Wayne Erbsen Monday, August 23, 2010 (Editor’s Note-- Wayne is a musician, author, publisher, teacher and radio host whose contributed to the Bluegrass Breakdown many times. This is his first appearance on the Daily Welcome.) If the “big bang theory” helps to explain the origin of the universe, perhaps “the big bang theory of bluegrass” will shed some light on the origin of the bluegrass music universe. First, let me say that there are two schools of thought as to the origins of bluegrass music. One has Bill Monroe single-handedly inventing bluegrass music around 1945. The other takes a more evolutionary approach, with a number of musicians and bands contributing to the sound we now call “bluegrass.” In particular, this approach points to Wade and JE Mainer’s Mountaineers as the first band that had all the ingredients of bluegrass music going back at least to 1935. For this article, let’s put aside the evolutionary argument, and concentrate on the theory that Bill Monroe invented bluegrass. It is commonly known that Bill and Charlie, the Monroe Brothers, had a contentious and turbulent relationship. Perhaps Charlie said it best, “We were hot-headed and mean as snakes.” In early 1938, they went their separate ways. To replace Bill, Charlie hired Zeke Morris to play mandolin and sing tenor. Interestingly enough, Zeke had been a mainstay of Mainer’s Mountaineers. Bill Monroe, on the other hand, was looking for a lead singer and guitar player to replace his brother Charlie. To accomplish his goal, Bill placed a small ad in the Atlanta, Georgia, newspaper looking for someone who played guitar and sang old-time songs. Among the musicians who showed up at Bill’s small travel trailer to audition was a nervous young man named Cleo Davis. Bill hired him on the spot because Bill’s wife, Carolyn, reinforced Bill’s opinion that Davis’ voice sounded almost exactly like that of brother Charlie Monroe. It is my contention that the short audition of Cleo Davis in Bill’s small trailer in 1938 is the big bang of bluegrass. It is when Bill hired the first of a long line of sidemen who would make up Bill’s legendary band, The Blue Grass Boys. The rest, my friends, is history. Let me tell you how I became involved in all this. In late 1981, I received a personal letter from Cleo Davis, who by then was calling himself JC Davis. He had read an article I had written for Bluegrass Unlimited Magazine on Wiley and Zeke, the Morris Brothers. Cleo or JC contacted me in an effort to reestablish contact with the Morris Brothers, whom he had not seen since that late l930s. In addition to providing him with contact information to get in touch with the Morris Brothers, I asked if I could interview him for another article in Bluegrass Unlimited. He readily agreed and seemed anxious to tell his story. At the time he was living in Lakeland, Florida, and I made my home near Asheville, North Carolina. Because of the difficulty of getting together, I asked him if I could send him some questions via letter, and if he could record his answers on a cassette tape. He quickly consented to this somewhat unorthodox interview method. Many letters and cassette tapes went back and forth, and my article finally appeared in Bluegrass Unlimited in February, 1982. As far as I know, I was the only one to interview Cleo or JC Davis about his roll in the origins of Bill’s band, the Bluegrass Boys. Unfortunately, he passed away a short time later. Thanks to the wonders of computers, you can actually listen to those tapes I made by going to http://www.aca-dla.org/dlamusic/dlamusic.html Where it says “Search All Collections,” type in Cleo Davis. Click on any of the items that say “Cleo Davis.” Then, at the top middle, hit “click here to display item.” To read my entire article in Bluegrass Unlimited, with all the details of the “Big Bang of Bluegrass” theory go to my website http://www.nativeground.com/ Click on “Articles” and then click the fifth article down entitled, “Cleo Davis, the Original Bluegrass Boy.” This information can also be found in the book, The Rural Roots of Bluegrass by yours truly, Wayne Erbsen. * * * * * Wayne Erbsen is a musician, author, publisher, teacher and radio host. Write for a free catalog of instruction books and songbooks for banjo, fiddle, guitar, mandolin plus books of songs and lore of cowboys, railroads, cowboys, outlaws, gospel, plus historic cookbooks. (828) 299-7031, http://www.nativeground.com/ banjo@nativeground.com or write Native Ground Books & Music, 109 Bell Road, Asheville NC 28805. Lighthouse Camp-Out Today's column from Jeanie Ramos Sunday, August 22, 2010 This has been the busiest summer I’ve had in years and there’s no sign that things will slow down until November. There have been so many opportunities to get together with the “bluegrass” family, make music, share some meals and visit. We’ve been to two big parties, the Grass Valley Festival and the Lighthouse Camp-out. Somewhere in between all that, we had 50 yards of concrete poured on our place, new driveways, sidewalks and patios. I’m so glad to have that job behind us. Our contractor said we shouldn’t park anything heavy (like a pick-up and camper) on the concrete for at least 21 days. We decided to “park” the truck and camper at the Lighthouse Resort in Isleton for a week. Problem solved. When we arrived, we were greeted by Vic and Walt right away, Vic got us a good spot near his camp. Actually, there are no “bad” spots at the resort. Our neighbors, Carol and Bill who are members of the resort and not “bluegrassers,” invited us to anchor our EZ-Up and chairs in the large open area in their spot behind us, they even furnished carpeting, tables, additional seating and bottled water. Our thought was, “if you build it they will come.” I uploaded a picture of our camp on Facebook, with empty chairs and my guitar leaning against one of them, with a caption that read, “What’s wrong with this picture”? I received some fun responses, Rich Evans thought the problem was the lack of a mandolin; Val wanted to know if there had been a fire drill. Of course, the problem was the empty chairs. It wasn’t long before we remedied the situation. All I had to do was strum a few chords on my guitar and the few of the early bird pickers that were there started arriving with instruments in hand. Don and Judy Pemberton were also camped behind us; he never missed an opportunity to jam. I found out they now live just down the road from us here in Brentwood and I’m so glad we are getting a few more musicians in our area. I’m thinking of hosting some jams on our side of the county, what with the new patios, etc. At every bluegrass event, I meet new people, get better acquainted with others and make new friends; the Lighthouse Camp-Out was no exception. I met a couple, Kim and Aimee, from Manteca who are wonderful musicians and singers. There are some people that you bond with right away, and that’s the way I felt about them. It almost felt like Aimee was a sister that I was separated from at birth and by some fluke, we were re-united at this camp-out. The great thing is, they don’t live too far away and we plan on getting together and doing some picking and singing soon. I also had the opportunity to play with many other talented musicians at the open mic each evening. Tina Louise Barr amazes me with all the music she can coax out of that autoharp. Of course, Uncle John is no slouch either. The open mic was fun; I think everyone was made to feel welcome, no matter the skill level. We had Jonathan Bluemel who is an accomplished banjo picker and then we had one lady who was a beginner who played her whole song on one string of her banjo and led everyone in a rousing rendition of “You are My Sunshine.” Brooks Judd kept us all happy and in time with his wonderful bass playing. He was everyone’s cheer leader, after each song he would find something positive to say about their song. We need people like him. I met a man name Dave who had just bought a nice guitar and wanted to learn to play something on it. He knew a few chords but didn’t know how to put it all together. He told me he sings in church. It was so fun to sit with him and show him all the songs he could sing with just three or four chords. I told him that many of the songs we were doing in the jams and open mic were songs he could play along with. The next night he had his guitar and he sat where he could watch my hands and he strummed along grinning from ear to ear. I see a “hooked on bluegrass” story in the making. My thought is, if you can show a guy how to play G, C, D, and A, and teach him how to use a capo, you can hook ‘em. This fall, the CBA will be holding the Annual Fall Camp-Out in Isleton at the Lighthouse Resort in Isleton. It is a great location, lots of shaded spots, many amenities. My husband, Terry, took part in a horse shoe tournament there and won a six-pack for his second place win. If you like to fish, you can bring a pole and your license and drop in a line. I heard that one of our CBA guys reeled in thirteen fish in one morning, bass and catfish, using night crawlers for bait. I didn’t personally see them but I’ve never been lied to by a left handed fiddler before so I’ve no reason to doubt now. I’d like to extend our thanks to the folks at the Lighthouse Resort for the wonderful hospitality. Special thanks to Vic Yeakle and Walt Jameison for all their efforts to make the Lighthouse Camp-Out a wonderful way to spend a week. Vic supplied the sound system and assisted in finding camp spots for folks and was an all around good PR man. Walt and his wonderful staff kept us well fed with reasonably priced, delicious meals. In fact, I think Walt and his “harem” (his words) could be considered part of the entertainment at the resort. Come to the Fall Camp-Out at the Lighthouse, you’ll be glad you did. The dates are October 11-17th. See you there. Commensurate Compensation Today's column from Rick Cornish (rcornish@sjcoe.net) Saturday, August 21, 2010 Hello from our little slice of heaven here on Whiskey Creek. Our local web site, mymotherlode.com, has promised us a very livable 96 degrees today and I’m feeling very thankful. 2010 has been far and away the coolest summer we’ve had here in Jamestown since we arrived just under ten years ago. I’d like to think the phenomena debunks the global warming crisis, but I have an uneasy feeling it does just the opposite. But like politics, I’ll pass on that subject. Let me instead share my eleven cents about Dan Bernstein’s post on the Message Board last evening entitled ‘Able to play for a “song” (festival budgets are tight)!’. I’ll start at the beginning….with the poster. What I’ve learned over the years about Dan Bernstein here on the CBA web site is that he doesn’t say a lot, but when he does it’s worth listening too….and responding to on the MB. And I’m happy to say people generally do. Sixteen posts at the time of this writing. I’m glad Dan clarified his use of the word ‘sanction’…."support, encouragement; approval", though I’d feel even better if he left off the word ‘approval’. The California Bluegrass Association has enough political sharks in the water, (all non-profits with paid memberships do), without having folks suggest, even inadvertently, it has authority over other organizations. That said, I’m 100% positive that I speak for our entire board of directors when I say that the CBA supports and encourages employers of bluegrass bands, from the lowly coffee house owner to the fat cat festival promoter, to offer acts commensurate compensation, in keeping, of course, with the coffee house owner’s and the fat cat’s ability to pay. And, of course, all too often, there’s the rub. Last Sunday I was one of 9 fat cat promoters who sat for a full two hours trying to figure out how we could pay bands for the 2011 Fathers Day Festival what they deserved and still eek out enough profit to keep the Association going for another year. Of course we failed. Most of we board members are either in working bands or have been in working bands and so what we think bands deserve is, in most cases, more than we’re able to pay them. It is, as Henry so aptly put it on Dan’s thread, what it is. Dan Bernstein, of course, knows that it is what it is. Following our horrific meltdown in Bakersfield, Dan worked tirelessly with Bob Thomas to help the CBA dig its way out of financial ruin, and he would be the first to tell you that part of that process meant cutting all budget items, including entertainment costs. The FDF immediately following SuperGrass saw fewer acts for less money, but thank God we survived. We delivered a decent product at a fair price, bands knew they got every last dime the Association could afford, and people came. That’s the one good thing you can say about the band compensation issue: in the final analysis, the free market will always be the final arbitrator. Now, having spoken as a fat cat promoter, let me change hats, speak as someone who’s been in a working band for thirty years, and, as Bruce Campbell did on the thread, tell you what really irks me. Sure, I like getting paid something at least close to what I think the band is worth, but there’s even something worse than not getting commensurate compensation. Once, many years ago, the Grass Menagerie was hired to play an Elks Lodge event up in the hills above Palo Alto….high rent district….and we were paid quite well. Five bills, and this has been twenty years ago. So we finish our first set, the band scatters, and as I step off the stage the woman who hired us, wife of the Grand Elk himself, rushes over to me and explains that during our break we are to, ‘you know, sort of straighten up a bit. Used napkins and cups, dirty paper plates. Please, dear, clear the mess. Oh, and then help yourself to some cookies. I made them myself.’ Which is exactly what I did, one hundred and twenty-five clams being even more a delicacy back then than now, but I didn’t tell my band mates. They wouldn’t have been mad at her, they’d have been mad at me for booking the gig. I’ll bet band leaders can relate to that, too. Giving Back Today's column from Ted Lehmann Friday, August 20, 2010 IBMA will be rolling around within a couple of months and the nomination process is well along, with the final nominations having been announced as you may be reading this. I’ve been thinking a lot recently about giving back to bluegrass and the importance of developing a sense of professionalism. When we became involved in bluegrass music, only about eight years ago, we were amazed at the welcome we received and the warmth of that reception. An example would be the reaction of bands to Irene’s offer to cover their merch tables while they were performing. The first time she offered, Mike Andes of Nothin’ Fancy thanked her, told her the prices and handed her the cash box. These days, bands blithely leave her with several hundred dollars in cash and all their merchandise while they perform, or even go rest. Where else? Meanwhile, my photography and writing have gained readership and, I hope, respect. While we both pick a little, we’re a long way from being bluegrass musicians, but we find ourselves a part of a community we value, cherish, and want to continue contributing to in some fashion. I don’t think we’re much different from many people who discover the genre. As a profession, bluegrass music is somewhat different from others. The biggest difference lies in the fact there are no standards for entrance. Entering other professions (teaching, law, medicine, plumbing, hair cutting and styling, electrical work, and many other skilled trades) requires applicants to complete certain educational goals, pursue an apprenticeship, and/or take a test in order to get a license to practice. No such standards apply in bluegrass. Go to some festivals, form a band, play at open mics, enter a few contests, play a few gigs at the local Home, get booked for a gig at the local live music joint, open for a touring headliner and, lo and behold, you’re a professional bluegrass musician; part of a flourishing and exciting sub-genre of country music. Bands that are good enough may gain local and then regional recognition, sometimes even being asked to travel to events. At some point, the ones who begin to stand out have to decide whether to “go for it” by becoming full time touring musicians or remain within more limited parameters. Some achieve remarkable success and become icons of our music; others manage to make a living, while many more continue to provide genuine pleasure to many people in local or regional settings. All that being true, there are no standards. Almost all professional bluegrass musicians began as field pickers at fiddler’s conventions and festivals. It may be one of the truest meritocracies in America. This lack of entry requirements also may lead to a split between the touring bands and local or regional bands, which also perform. Think for a moment about a similar, though certainly not exact, difference between the PGA and the PGA tour. Teaching golf professionals and people who compete in local and regional tournaments are usually far removed from the skills and problems of touring golf professionals, yet each group considers themselves to be pro’s. There are certainly shared concerns among bluegrassers like health care, coordination of festival dates, ability to plan pensions, creating reasonable fee structures, and many others. But there are also elements of competition, distrust, jealousy and secrecy keeping such cooperation from even beginning to occur in many places. The various elements in the bluegrass community including musicians, promoters, publishers, broadcasters, luthiers, and most certainly fans all have an interest, and, in bluegrass, a voice. Imagine giving fans a vote in the American Medical Association! Yet avid fans must only join IBMA in order to become active, voting members with a voice in this large, but scattered and often conflicted community. This brings us back to IBMA. I’ll start with this: not everyone is going to be happy with every decision IBMA makes. They may wish the event were still held in Owensboro or Louisville. Many people may think the festival is too expensive, or too Nashville oriented, or encourages music that is not really bluegrass, or the awards ceremony doesn’t select the right people, or jamming is discouraged, or, or, or. But in the end, the International Bluegrass Music Association is your professional organization if you’re involved in bluegrass music. It seeks to make health care more easily and affordably available to you. It raises and invests funds to help distressed elderly musicians. It holds meetings and conducts seminars designed to help members of the bluegrass community become more effective at doing their jobs. It encourages and develops new leadership from within its ranks. And it holds an annual convention which is a musical and social feast for professionals and fans at every level from within the community. And you can be a part of it all by determining to be a part of the profession rather than apart from it. You can become a part of all this by deciding to pay annual dues of $75 and starting to give back to the music which has given you so much pleasure in so many ways. A person who has been with NPR for many years once told me fans come up and say, “I’ve been listening to you for years, but I’ve never given NPR a cent.” They say it with a note of pride, as if they were getting away with something. Most of us benefit in some way by the work and efforts of IBMA. The benefits increase in proportion with our willingness to become a part of this worthwhile and lively organization. As with any sort of organization or relationship, the seeds of growth and development need to be cultivated and nurtured to come to full fruition. It’s time for all of us to help cultivate this seedling. THE GOLDEN OLD-TIME CAMP OUT This weekend. So much fun. Click here for details. Help-Wanted Ad for California Bands Guest column from Wendy Stockton Thursday, August 19, 2010 Are you the leader of an up-and-coming band that plays the kind of down-and-out music we love for its high-lonesome bluegrass sound? And/or…does your band play traditional, old-time or gospel music? Does your band fit the following profile: 1. Talented musicians, tight vocal harmonies, entertaining as all get out; 2. Willing and able to play multiple, 50-minute sets, including Thursday and/or Sunday afternoon, between May 5th and 8th, 2011; 3. Members prepared to offer one or more workshop classes; 4. Members ready to camp out and jam with festival participants; 5. Able to play for a “song” (festival budgets are tight)! If the answer is “yes,” then Bluegrass Music Society of the Central Coast (BMSCC) suggests you apply to play on stage at one of California’s premier bluegrass events: the 13th annual Parkfield Mother’s Day Weekend Bluegrass Festival. Application form and other info can be obtained by writing BMSCC at bmscc12@gmail.com or P. O. Box 332, Grover Beach, CA 93483. Don’t delay -- to be considered for next year’s Parkfield fest, your band’s application package must be received by September 30, 2010. [Ed’s note: The talent selection committee hopes this ad will especially interest bands that never have played at Parkfield. See www.parkfieldbluegrass.com for more info about this picturesque hamlet's annual festival, including the impressive line-up of bands that played on stage this year. Better yet, talk to anyone who's ever attended. Within the next couple weeks, we plan to list bands thus far signed for 2011. As of this writing we can confirm that Lost & Found, of Virginia, will be one of next year’s festival headliners.] Getting started as a musician Today's column from Bruce Campbell Wednesday, August 18, 2010 The past three Welcome Messages had sort of a common theme - the frustrations of trying to become a musician, or a better one. I loved Geoff Sargent’s column on music lessons. I took music lessons when I was a kid. First was clarinet, and it was very frustrating. I didn’t particularly want to play clarinet, but I did want to play something in the school band, and my cousin had a clarinet I could borrow. I didn’t care for the greasiness or the smell of the wax that lubricated the corked connectors to the thing, nor the taste of the darn wooden reeds that always seemed to split once they got wet. And I didn’t much like the sound of the clarinet, nor did I like the music I was learning on it. But I did learn a bit, and I did take a liking to the structure of music – the time signatures, the secret code of the dots on the musical staff, and the artistic elegance of the treble clef. But then I discovered something else – in the orchestra, it didn’t seem to matter how I played. The whole band sounded pretty awful. If I played poorly, it didn’t make it sound noticeably worse. If I played well, it was undetectable in the din. The guy next to me, Calvin Humphreys, didn’t play ANYTHING on the clarinet – he just pretended to play, and THAT didn’t make any difference, either! I wanted to be on the stage real bad – to have the spotlight on me, to be seen by my parents in the audience, but not on these terms. I knew my parents would say they were proud of me and how good I was, but I also knew they couldn’t possibly tell if I was any good. I was just one kid sitting on a metal folding chair, along with about 30 other kids. So, then I wanted to play guitar. As luck would have it, I had a cousin who had a guitar I could borrow, and once I got it home, I loved the sound of it. The low E was so authoritative – that one note sounded musical in a way that no note on the clarinetcould. I still remember the first song I wrote on it: “Down on the Prairie”, using only the open strings (it was awful of course, but hey - I was only 9). I really had no natural talent, so I bugged my parents to spring for lessons, and soon enough, kindly old Mr. Dingley (I swear that was his name) would come to my home weekly and we would slog through the Alfred’s Guitar Method books. On one level it was excruciating. Not the slow going – I did make discernable progress, and practice really did make a difference. It was the music I was playing in those books. Not a single piece was a song I knew or liked – it was like learning to speak Latin – I had no idiomatic reference, as to how it should sound, so I just played the notes. But when Mr. Dingley played the accompaniment to my picking, it did sound pretty good, if unfamiliar. In retrospect, the initial musical education I received was valuable. I learned the basics of music, meter, keys, and learned how to read music (I still can - not that anybody cares). And I learned how to use proper right and left techniques on the instrument, which served me very well through the next 30+ years of guitar lessons, banjo lessons, workshops and self teaching. I think I have to thank my father for this – he was adamant that I learn how to pick, rather than learn how to strum (he probably disdained the folk movement) – he said “You learn how to pick like Chet Atkins, son, and you’ll always have work.” Well, I never did learn how to pick quite like Chet Atkins, but I know how to have a heck of lot of fun playing music! You've Got What It Takes... We All Do Guest column from Luke Abbott Tuesday, August 17, 2010 Whenever I’m at a party or other non-musical gathering of people, it seems like I always get into a conversation about music education. The ubiquitous icebreaker question: “So… what do you do?” leads to an explanation of the work I’m doing with the ToneWay Project—which, for those of you who don’t know, is our family's decade-long effort to make music accessible to anyone who wants to play, using stringed instruments and mountain music as a foundation. Anyway, what comes next is usually hearing about their take on music-making. And after scores of these conversations, I’ve noticed some interesting patterns. First of all, it is a rare person indeed who doesn’t have a hunger to play music. They won’t always tell you directly, but you can see it in the way they idolize their friend or relative who plays this or that instrument. On the other hand, most people have discounted music-making as an option for themselves. Many feel they just don’t have the talent. Others were discouraged by a frustrating experience in the past where music was not fun. They still envy those who can play, but they conclude that for one reason or another, they just don’t have what it takes. As a music teacher, this is frustrating. After witnessing firsthand the musical growth of hundreds of students in our beginner classes, I have seen that pretty much everyone has what it takes. People with a complete lack of musical talent or experience, people who start out without the ability to sing on pitch, people with other, non-musical disabilities… folks from all these categories have discovered that music-making is within their grasp. Even the tone-deaf ones, who discover they were never really tone-deaf, only inexperienced. The extent to which people underestimate their musical potential is staggering. I suspect this is partly because music seems very mysterious to an outsider; it’s hard to understand, so it must be hard to do, right? Nope. It’s easy to get started… and, it turns out that understanding the process is not important when it comes to enjoying what you’re doing. All you have to do is jump in! I have come to the conclusion that the only critical requirement is motivation. If someone has the desire to play, all other obstacles can be overcome. Not everyone is going to become a fantastic musician, of course. But anyone can learn enough to start playing with others, and to have fun doing it! Our job is to make it easy for folks to get started. This is why we put several hours of “Get Started” video instruction up for free on ToneWay.com. We want to reduce the barriers to music-making as much as possible. And so far, feedback has been overwhelmingly positive, with many folks surprised at how simple music-making can be when you boil it down to the essentials! But one barrier remains: convincing a beginner that it’s worth a shot. So, I encourage you to check out our free video series (especially if you're a beginner) and, if you like what you see, suggest it to a friend of yours who might be interested in picking up an instrument. Better yet, go through the lessons with your friend. Make sure they know it’s a no-talent/experience/understanding-required course! Music…..in the beginning Today's column from Ralph Hendricks Monday, August 16, 2010 Eons ago the Earth was silent. Forests stood uninspired, burdened by cold, bent over lifeless. The ground was parched and void of color. Clouds were dark and covered the sky, blocking the light. Life seemed to be in hibernation, hidden. Somewhere in the forest a lone vine hung down from a tree and eventually became entwined between two limbs. As the tree grew taller, the vine tightened. Eventually, another limb from a neighboring tree grew across the vine and as the wind blew the trees rocked in a rhythm, pulling the limb back and forth over the vine. Something happened. Something magical occurred. A sound bright and powerful came from the vine which vibrated the earth below and the heavens above. The sound was unlike anything the forest had ever heard. The tone was so intense that the clouds parted letting the sun beam down like a spotlight on the vine. Flowers sprung forth everywhere on the ground and bloomed in a kaleidoscope of colors. Over time other vines on other trees joined the primeval chorus. Some notes were thin, high pitched, piecing the void like arrows while others were thick, resonating bass notes that pounded like heartbeats. Together, the sounds filled the forest with an orchestral phenomenon. From all points of the land came Earths’ creatures that chirped and howled together in a natural harmony. They all now gathered and sat in awe as if each somehow knew they were experiencing the birth of a new day. The rest……is music history. So maybe this little bedtime story is just something make believe that I made up. But when and where did the world first experience the mystery and magic of music? Is music as old as life itself? It is believed that music may predate language. Music is something found in every known culture past and present. Music has been referred to as the “universal language”. The oldest known “song” according to Professor Kilmer @ UC Berkeley is 4,000 years old and was composed with harmonies of thirds and written in the diatonic scale. Now that’s really “old time”. Is music something thought to heal the human soul as implied by the phrase below was written in 1697: “Music has charms to sooth a savage beast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read, that things inanimate have moved and, as with living souls, have been informed, by magic numbers and persuasive sound. What then am I? Am I more senseless grown than trees, or flint? O force of constant woe! 'Tis not in harmony to calm my griefs. Anselmo sleeps, and is at peace; last night the silent tomb received the good old King; He and his sorrows now are safely lodged within its cold, but hospitable bosom. Why am not I at peace?” Music is so powerful it has defined generations and inspired love, religion and cultures. So as I twang away on my Dobro while my dog sits at my feet sleeping peacefully, I smile and enjoy the moment knowing that maybe I too am somehow helping keep an age old magic alive. Music Lessons? Today’s column from Geoff Sargent Sunday August 15, 2010 I’m confused. Since I started playing dobro about 3 years ago, I’ve taken lessons, been to the CBA music camp, attended workshops from Dobro masters, and bought instructional books and DVDs. Now, all of this has almost certainly helped me more than I can recognize but it still leaves me feeling, I dunno, strangely incomplete. So here’s the thing. I don’t think I know how to take a lesson! This seems like a strange thing to say….I mean I go into lessons with an open mind just waiting to absorb all the knowledge and try not to have any preconceptions or an unachievable agenda…..but actually, I kind of suck at leaving agendas at the door. There are probably two things that doom my lessons and I guess must also perplex my teachers. One is that I have the patience of a gnat. I need to explain that one a bit because this is a ying/yang thing for me. When I get into something I can be obsessively focused, which playing dobro allows me to indulge. And when I get up a head of steam practicing, all of a sudden there goes six hours of playing and I know its time to quit because my thumb hurts from all the pounding on the low G-string. (Ain’t no one going to accuse me of not digging in.) I’m pretty sure that my lack of patience comes in part from being on the north side of 50 and feeling like I don’t have enough time to get where I want with my music, and in part because I’m naturally impatient. So if I think whatever workshop or lesson isn’t taking me there fast enough…I get kind of antsy….or maybe gnaty. But I generally sit there politely and try to be a good student. The second thing that complicates lessons is my sweet, pleasant, but sometimes adversarial, personality. I think most of my friends will vouch that I’m basically a good guy….but I seem to have a knack for asking the most annoying questions…or maybe it's the annoying way I ask them, and then not letting go until my question gets answered. Oh well…..my poor teachers. Maybe my confusion over how to best learn dobro comes from when I was in high school and learning how to play trombone and baritone horn. Back then, part of learning to play seemed to involve how much the band director made you cry…there was a direct correlation…the more you cried the faster you improved. Seriously! Horn lessons were not for the faint hearted, usually involved a certain amount of discomfort, and relied heavily on the necessary but boring repetition of scales. It’s strange, now I gladly practice scales and feel like practice isn’t complete without at least one. On the other hand the horn lessons were very structured and involved progressively more difficult exercises that really helped to play difficult passages in symphonic or jazz band. In contrast….all of my dobro teachers are way too nice and haven’t even come close to making me cry, so I definitely feel like something is missing and my progress too slow. The other difference, that I think I’ve written about before, is that there is an amazing lack of structure….there aren’t thick exercise books with hundreds of dobro drills in each of the major and minor keys. I hate to think that I’m so inflexible but it kind of drives me a little crazy. Dobro education seems to be done mainly in the traditional front porch method of here try this lick or let’s play this song. So what do I do? Since there aren’t a whole lot of dobro teachers in the bay area I decided to learn from the pros. My teachers now are Josh Graves, Brother Oswald, Mike Auldridge, Phil Leadbetter, Jerry Douglas, Rob Ickes, Ivan Rosenberg, Sally Van Meter, Kathy Barwick, Andy Hall, Greg Booth and the list goes on and on. I spend a whole lot of time listening to cds and iTunes trying to do my best Josh/Gerry/Mike/Rob/Sally etc imitation……most of the time I’m learning at 30% tempo with the help of Amazing Slow Downer and am proud to be able to say I can almost play Gerry Douglas licks……in extreme slow motion. Reminds me of the old Steve Martin routine where he making fun of people on Quaaludes, except it’s me playing dobro. It’s inhuman what Jerry Douglas can play….I’m sure he made the proverbial deal with the devil at the crossroads to get where he is. Now I don’t want to leave you with the impression that I think the lessons, workshops, and dvds are wasted or that I wasn’t thrilled by getting some one-on-one with great musicians. I’ve been thrilled and come away learning something important from each workshop and lesson. Maybe I’ve just got the wrong expectations and should learn some patience……..nahhhhh. Random Thoughts of an Older Bluegrass Musician – And Murphy's Law Today's column from John Karsemeyer Saturday, August 14, 2010 Seven o'clock in the morning. Why can't I sleep in? What day is this? Oh, that's right, it's Friday. What am I going to do today? Oh right, I've got that bluegrass gig at the Irish Pub tonight. What time do I have to be there? Oh now I remember, seven o'clock. So that means I have to practice today, more than usual. I mean, who wants to “die” on stage? My back hurts more than it usually does. I wonder if that's from the stress of thinking about playing tonight? But it's only the morning. Why would it be hurting already? Oh, well, there's always ibuprofen that can come to the rescue. Maybe I should take a walk to make it better. It's ten o'clock and I still haven't practiced yet. I shouldn't have stayed so long on the computer at the CBA website. That website is addictive. In fact, I haven't even eaten breakfast yet. Let's see, bacon and eggs, toast with lots of butter and jam. Wait, better not, too much fat and cholesterol. Let's see, put some organic flax, oat bran, and wheat bran (nature's broom) in a bowl of whole grain cereal, and that will be better. That last breakfast recipe from “J.D.'s Bluegrass Kitchen” would be a lot tastier than this health food stuff, but, well, better not. It's 10:45 am, and I still haven't practiced yet. My first wife (42 years so far) wants me to vacuum, but my back, my back. Oh well, I'd better do that anyway. It's 11:30 am, and I still haven't practiced. My back is hurting more now. I'm getting to the point where my enthusiasm is wanning regarding this gig tonight. Probably I'm just getting tired, already. Oh well, it will pass, maybe. The phone is ringing. Can't believe that Tom, my buddy from the army, called me. We've kept in touch for the last forty years. He likes to talk. He's telling me how much he likes playing banjo music, which he does every time he calls, but that's okay. It reminds me of Steve Martin saying something about if you play the banjo you can't be depressed. It's 12:45 in the afternoon, and I still haven't practiced. Time for lunch. 1:15 and I still haven't practiced, but I forgot to take that walk to ease the back pain. Better do it now. Now why did I agree to play this gig tonight? Good idea at the time, even though by the end of the last set I'm usually in bed. I wonder if Doc Watson ever feels this way about a gig? That walk took longer than I thought it would. The red tailed hawk sighting so close to me made the whole thing worthwhile. If reincarnation is true, that's what I'd like to come back as. Don't believe it though. How long do I have now before I have to leave for the gig? Three in the afternoon, and I still haven't practiced yet. Sitting on the sofa after the walk feels really good. Seems like I'm drifting off....(head snap) Whoops, better not go for a nap, the alarm clock isn't working. If only I hadn't agreed to playing this gig tonight I could drift into a long, long nap, and awake to the smells of my first wife cooking dinner. I wonder if Earl Scruggs ever feels this way about a gig? Let's see, I'm just going to watch this one thirty minute T.V. Show on the Discovery Channel, and then I'll get to practicing for the gig tonight. Wow, that show went longer than I thought. Worthwhile though, “Adult Survivors of Peer Abuse” in schools is something I never thought about. Now that I think about it, it may have happened to me. Now when is that bluegrass festival at Plymouth? I'd better look it up. Where did I put that last Bluegrass Breakdown? Oh yeah, in the back room, somewhere. Okay, the Plymouth Bluegrassin' in the Foothills is September 17-19. Shoot, it's five o'clock in the afternoon, and I still haven't practiced. No time now, have to shower and leave for the gig by six. Man, why did I agree to do this? I wonder if Del McCoury ever feels this way? All I know is that if I could sing and play like he does I wouldn't feel this way! Six o'clock and I'm on the road to the gig. We have a substitute bass player, and one of our guitar players is in Jackson Hole Wyoming, but it will probably be okay. I haven't practiced today, but it will probably be okay (denial is a great defense mechanism). I'm at the Irish Pub and have an hour until play-time. Plenty of time to set-up, and practice a little. What do you mean there is a private party in the room where we are supposed to play, and the band can't set-up until fifteen minutes before the gig? Okay, I'll go into the other room, have an iced-tea, and wait. Lenny is in the other room, sitting at a table by himself. I haven't seen him for a number of years. He came to hear the band, early, but can't get in the regular play room either. He has peripheral neuropathology in his feet, he tells me. That's pain. We talk about blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and general aches and pains. Talk that has replaced topics of how far and fast we used to run, how good we used to play music, and generally how good we used to be. Lies, most of it. It's way past time when the band is supposed to get into the music room to set up. Maybe I should walk over there and see what's going on. Okay the room is still full of people. They were supposed be out by now. Why did I agree to do this? The manager tells me to just go on in and set-up. To just go around the people, and concerts with 31 bands all over Europe and U.S. – a real Bluegrass Celebration. As usual a part of the festival was the European Band Contest. Ten bands from over thirty were pre-selected by the international festival jury and invited to compete as contest finalists. Thursday evening started with a concert of workshop participants. The weather was cloudy, it was getting dark and the rain was in the air. The main program started at 6.30 p.m. with four European bands: Brzdari from Czech Republic; Roots & Galoots from Wales and Nashville Airplane from France. Mideando String Quintet from Italy it was dry again. In the student dormitory, where the most musicians stayed, some jam sessions followed. Friday welcomed us with some sunshine. During lunch time bluegrass bands were playing at almost every restaurant and café in town. In the afternoon we had time enough to admire many of the local historical sites. The evening show was opened by the French band Tennessee Stud. There were three bands competing that night: Wyrton from Czech Republic, Covered Grass from Germany and Blackjack from Czechoslovakia (CZ). The stars of the night shined on the stage--Dale Ann Bradley & the BlueBillies (Steve Gulley, Kim & Joel Fox and Alan Bibey). What a band!!! The last group, Italian Red Wine came after midnight. After a short night with many jam sessions came a sunny Saturday morning. The festival started around 11.30 a.m., with Czech Twisted Timber, German Roots Experience, French Stepping Stones and Swiss Rick Noorlander & Karin Streule. The afternoon break brought a lot of activities for the whole family; a children’s program, line dance show and more. In the music school master workshops were held for banjo, mandolin, guitar, fiddle and dobro. In the town’s pavilion were many stands selling old and new recordings and other music stuff. A lot of live concerts happened everywhere around the restaurants and cafes. The evening program started at 5 p.m. with the New Essex Band from Great Britain, last year’s second place act. Jirka Kralik & Rowdy Rascals from the Czech Republic, the winners of 2007, followed. The competing bands of the day were Quartier Francais (Finland), Sidlo, a great traditional band from Slovakia and international G-Runs & Roses (NL/CZ/SK, which took home the title of the European Bluegrass Band of the Year 2010 from EWOB Holland. They won the audience hearts by storm. And finally the U.S. headliner Hickory Project from Pennsylvania came on the stage. They played very fast and very good. Thousands were clapping hands and screaming. It was not easy for the young Czech band Krenii, last year’s winner, to follow the Hickory Project, but at least a thousand fans remained for their great performance. Sunday morning was marvelous. The visibility was excellent so we could see all the mountains from the dormitory windows. Blackjack (CZ) was playing and singing gospels during the Sunday morning Mass in the beautiful old church. At noon the festival continued with my favorite Dutch band Lazy Tater and then Album from the Czech Republic; great performance, what a pity they did not make it for the contest. The competing bands that day were Bononia Grass from Italy, Poa Pratensis from Hungary, and Dessert from Czech Republic (with two female singers). Instead the Acousticure from Hungary, which unfortunately could not come, the great French band Bluegrass 43 got on stage. It was getting dark and windy very fast and rain did not take long to wait. The black clouds covered the heaven and the first lightings crossed the sky. People looked for shelter in the VIP tent and sales booths. Because strong winds were reported, the festival moved into a huge gym, where the French band Howling Fox started immediately to play. The big moment everybody was waiting for came at 7.30 p.m. and the contest winners were proclaimed. G-Runs & Roses (NL/CZ/SK won first place won–-you’ll have the opportunity to see them next year at the IBMA. Ralph Schut, their happy Dutch front man, who moved to Czech Republic a couple years ago, accepted the award for the band, which had already left. The second place went to the great Czech band Blackjack and I had the honor to accept their award for them, because they were on their way home already. The third award went to another Czech Band, Dessert--the only band whose members were still present. Congratulations to all the winners. It showed once again that Czech bluegrass rules Europe! Unfortunately, my friends I came with had to leave, so we saw only a couple of songs by the U.S. old time band RedDog. When Abigael Orchestra (Finland) came on we were already crossing French-Swiss border…. Thanks to Christopher Didier, the Town of La Roche and all the 150 volunteers! Once more we all felt at home in your beautiful town. You are wonderful hosts! Should Bert Buy an RV? Today's column from Bert Daniel Sunday, August 29, 2010 To RV or not to RV; that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the tent to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous campgrounds, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And with a wad of cash end them. To kick back. To pitch No more, and by that kicking back to try to end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That campers are heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To relax. To be pampered. To be pampered so much, perhaps to never emerge From your high class cocoon: Aye, there's the rub. For in that paragon of camping luxury The outdoor pleasures that could be missed Must give us pause… I've thought about getting an RV for more than a few years. My younger brother, who is they'll be out soon. I try it, and it's impossible to get through or around them to the stage area. I'm told to go through the kitchen. Wow, this is a small kitchen. Again, why did I agree to do this? It's 7:59 pm, and finally the band is set up. We get a sound check from one of the pub staff, who hasn't done it before (the regular person is off tonight). It feels like tonight is going to continue to be a disaster. The band is “out of the shoot” and starts playing at 8 pm. We stop playing at 10 pm. The substitute bass player is great. We get along without our other guitar player who is on vacation (and think of firing him), and the other band members play just fine. I didn't get to practice, and I can tell, but the audience doesn't seem to be aware of that. It all worked out. It feels great. I'm glad I agreed to do this.
Posted:  9/8/2010 8:36:45 AM

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