Month: May 2014

I see the cornpone, but where’s the beef? – A Concert Review: Dailey & Vincent, 05-30-14

If the Steep Canyon Rangers gave us a great performance at the Library of Concert last night, then Dailey & Vincent put on a good show – and that’s the key difference between the two bands. Performance vs show, an entertaining focus on music vs a musical focus on entertainment.

I don’t say that to sound dismissive. Cornpone and schtick aren’t my thing and weren’t what I was in the mood for, but that’s a pretty subjective statement. I do wish Dailey & Vincent’s show hadn’t overshadowed the music, because there was a lot of talent up there that could have spoken for itself and held its own. But if you like old-timey cornpone fun, you’ll love Dailey and Vincent. The presentation felt like a cross between the Grand Ole Opry and Hee Haw. Jamie Dailey was an obviously but well-rehearsed (and self-promotional) MC who came across as much the earnest host as he did the star. Sure enough, their very first paying gig as a duo was at the Ryman.

The band is fronted by bluegrass musicians and tenors Dailey and Darrin Vincent. The’ve got quite the credentials: Dailey was the lead singer for Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver, and Vincent was part of Ricky Skaggs’ Kentucky Thunder. It shows. They’re definitely good musicians – but this is a concert review, not an album review, and music just wasn’t the main focus of their show.

Their bluegrass roots always showed, yet they successfully straddled many genres. There was an electric guitar. The fiddler, BJ Cherryholmes, was very talented, and played as much in a country style as bluegrass. The Gospel influence was felt throughout the show, especially in the a capella quartets. They kicked the show off with a bombastic cover of Phillip Phillips’ “(Make this Place Your) Home” and an audience singalong of John Denver’s “Country Roads.”

The two best things I can say about Dailey & Vincent are first, the band is a worthy musical heir to the Statler Brothers. When all of them sang at once and actually put the emphasis on the music, that’s exactly who they sounded like – and they do in fact have an album of Statler Brothers covers I might well buy.

Second, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard someone sing as low AND as clear as bassist Christian Davis. That young man has an AMAZING voice! And the band knows it, showcasing his deepest notes often (even when it didn’t make sense to do so). Davis gets a lot of credit; I just wish the instruments hadn’t all but drowned out his big solo on the finale.

They were all quite talented, not just Davis. When the front duo of Dailey and Vincent performed a duet – Dailey on guitar, Vincent on mandolin, and both harmonizing as high tenors with some falsetto – it was classic bluegrass and great music.

But it was easy to loose sight of that given the fun, hoopla, and ra-ra jingoism the rest of the show was engineered to get us all caught up in. Take a look at the set they use in this video – that visual captures a lot. Of course I love America, but if every other sentence talks up freedom, praises vets, and gets in your face about red white and blue, it starts to feel forced – more like cheap, jingoistic nationalism than true country patriotism.

It wasn’t all jingoism. Some of it was schtick. Singer and mandolin player Jeff Parker is a real ham – no weight pun intended. He came across as a goofy extrovert who loved to have fun. And that’s not a bad thing, if you’re into schtick! None of this, aside from the nationalism, is objectively a bad thing; it’s just a question of personal preference. If you like cornpone – and I don’t – you’ll love Dailey and Vincent. And if you don’t but you still enjoy Gospel and/or bluegrass, you might still like their albums. There sure was a lot of musical talent up there, and I really look forward to hearing it when there isn’t an act to overshadow it.

Dailey & Vincent are Jamie Dailey, Darrin Vincent, Jeff Parker, Christian Davis, BJ Cherryholmes, and Jessie Baker on banjo, Seth Taylor on lead guitar, and Bob Mummert on drums. They are signed to Rounder Records.

They Tore It Up! – A Concert Review: The Steep Canyon Rangers, 05-30-14

A FREE show from one of my all-time favorite bands just a half mile from my house? Yes, please!!!

Last night, the Steep Canyon Rangers gave one helluva bluegrass performance to close out the Library of Congress’s free concert season. (No, the brilliant Steve Martin wasn’t there, but let’s remember – the Steeps were nominated for a Grammy with him, but won one without him!) Also performing were Grammy nominees Dailey and Vincent, whom I will review in a separate post, and Irish traditionalists Donna Long and Jesse Smith.

Though I’d heard a little from the Steeps before last January, they didn’t really come to my attention until then. I was going through an extremely hard breakup with the woman I thought I was going to marry, and was working about 70 hours a week. I needed an escape – badly – so I threw work in the trashcan for an evening and went with a buddy to see the Steeps at the Birchmere.

For those few hours, everything was okay, everything felt right again — it was the first time in months that I had been truly happy for more than a few minutes. As I noted in the essay that kicked off this blog, music has always been there for me in my tough times – and for their part in that, the Steeps will forever hold a special place in my heart.

This weekend marked my fifth Steep Canyon Rangers show in 16 months, and that feeling of truly being at home during them has never gone away. By that, I don’t just mean it feels comfortable; it’s more than that. It feels right – like coming home after travel. When an SCR show ends, instead of saying “Time to go home!” I say, “But it’s too late to go out again!”

Steep Canyon Rangers fiddler Nicky Sanders with the author, Nathan Empsall. April 2013.

Even with lasting sadly less than an hour, last night’s concert was as phenomenal as ever. The LOC crowd was the first I’ve seen that didn’t laugh at the opening line of the opener “As I Go” – “I always try to do what’s best, I’ve mostly done the opposite.” But by the finale, when Nicky Sanders tears up “Auden’s Train” with the best damn fiddling you’ll ever see, they sure were howling at his classical music riffs. Graham joked that Nicky was going to steal one of the Library’s famous instruments – “Stradivariuses? Stradivarii?” All of the band is amazing at what they do, so I hate to single out any one of them as the most talented – but as grave an injustice as that is to the rest of the band’s superb talent to say, it would be an even graver injustice to Nicky NOT to say it.

There are a lot of great coal songs out there, but “Call the Captain” is probably my favorite – plus it does a great job showcasing Woody Platt’s smooth vocals. Speaking of Woody, his guitar broke a string at one point, but he compensated extremely well for the rest of the song. Bravo, sir.

I’ll even applaud the band’s drums. What? Drums in a bluegrass band? Well, yes – the Steeps are a great cross between bluegrass and newgrass, pushing the limits but still respecting the genre, and in that spirit Mike Ashworth joined on drums last summer. They worked particularly well as retroactive additions to “Rescue Me” and the instrumental “Knob Creek,” and are an integral piece of the latest album’s title track, “Tell the Ones I Love.”

When all was said and done, the Steeps received a thunderous standing ovation that didn’t let up until they all came out for a well-deserved curtain call.

Nathan Empsall and Graham Sharp

The author, Nathan Empsall, with Steep Canyon Rangers banjo player Graham Sharp. May 2014.

I only have two small negative things to say. The first is that I think the bass was mixed a little too loud, especially in the beginning. (Also, it’s just now occurring to me that the Charles, also a prolific and talented songwriter, doesn’t get that many bass solos – hopefully that will be corrected on a future album!) Second, I really wish they had played “Between Midnight and the Dawn,” which was actually a runner-up for the title of this website. But the show was free and those are minor quibbles – the first and perhaps only negative things I’ll ever say about a Steep Canyon Rangers show!

If you’ve never seen the band life, you MUST. Obviously many groups are better live than recorded, but it’s amazing just how true that is for the Steeps. Don’t get me wrong, I love their albums – Nobody Knows You absolutely deserved that Grammy – but the two best things about the band just don’t come through as well in the studio. That’s how amazing Nicky Sanders is on the fiddle, and how wonderful Woody Platt, Graham Sharp, and Mike Guggino’s vocal harmonies blend together. Go. See. These. Guys.

The Library of Congress as a venue was a good thing, too. The band seemed truly honored to be there, including talking in the lobby afterwards. It certainly helped lift my spirits a little bit once I got to thinkin’ about it. By day, I work in politics, and I’ve grown a lot more cynical since moving to Washington. But sitting there in the middle of the Capitol complex, experiencing great American music with a diverse and appreciative crowd right in the historic place, everything that’s wrong with our society ceased to matter for a little while as the best things about what makes us us were put front and center. That’s what music does.

The Steep Canyon Rangers are Woody Platt on lead vocals and guitar, Graham Sharp on vocals and banjo, Nicky Sanders on fiddle, Mike Guggino on mandolin and harmony vocals, Charles R. Humphrey III on bass, and Mike Ashworth on drums.

The Washington Folk Festival is this weekend!

If you’re in the Washington, D.C., area, be sure to check out the 34th annual Washington Folk Festival this weekend, just outside the District at Maryland’s old Glen Echo amusement park! The festival runs from noon – 7 p.m. on both Saturday and Sunday. There are all sorts of crafts exhibitors, a storytellers’ stage, and a Spanish ballroom, but more importantly for this writer and website, dozens of musicians stretching many genres, particularly bluegrass and folk. I’ve been before, and it’s a great time.

I was reminded of the festival a couple weeks ago when I walked to Eastern Market after church. I was in a bit of a hurry to get to afternoon events, so I thought I was going to just hit up the butcher counter and get out of there – but then I heard blugrass strains wafting across the plaza from the flea market, and dammit the weather was just so nice. So thanks to King Street Bluegrass, I spent about half an hour longer on 7th Street NE then I intended to.

They played a little bluegrass and a little blues, and let us all know that they’d be at the upcoming Folk Festival. They may not be the Steep Canyon Rangers* (I mean, who is?), but if every city had a bluegrass band like King Street Bluegrass, we’d all be sittin’ a little higher on life’s hog. These are the folks you want playing at whatever event it is you’re holding, so be sure to check them out this weekend (3:15 on Sunday at the Cuddle-up Stage) along with all the other performers at the Washington Folk Festival in Glen Echo.

*Speaking of the Steep Canyon Rangers, they’ll be in D.C. tonight too – for free, along with duo Dailey & Vincent and Celtic performers Donna Long and Jesse Smith! WHY is this not the headline of the post? Because while it’s a sold-out show at the Library of Congress, there is a limited number of FREE rush tickets available at 5pm for the 7pm show – and I don’t want you to beat me there to get them. ;)

What country music needs is another Willie Nelson

In a Texas Monthly cover article devoted to George Strait’s retirement from touring, Craig Havighurst argued that there may never be another George Strait.

George has been my favorite singer since I was 11, so I don’t say this lightly, but I would submit that what country and roots music need is not a new George Strait, but a new Willie Nelson.

Willie’s greatest accomplishment isn’t any one song or album, helping pioneer the outlaw sound, or even managing to make one beat-up old guitar last this long. It was the bringing together of diverse crowds that had always been at odds and finding among them common ground, new friendship, and a powerful movement. Like Bruce Robison sings,

“Like a miracle all those rednecks and hippies // From New York City down to Mississippi // Stood together and raised a brew // When it’s all gone wrong, what would Willie do?”

We need someonImagee to do that again – someone who can unite the red dirt cowboys, the Mumford hipsters and Lumineer moms, and the old singer-songwriter foagies.

Think about it. I went to a Nickel Creek concert earlier this month in Washington, D.C., and the audience was incredibly young – dare I say largely hipster. Now I’m not saying that that’s newgrass’s main demographic. It was the venue, the 9:30 Club, more than anything. Still, it was encouraging to see such a young crowd at a fundamentally bluegrass show.

And take indie folk, definitely a big draw for college students and hipsters. Personally I like Mumford and Sons, but I know a lot of folks find them insufferable. That’s fine, but love them or hate them, there’s no denying the influence folk and bluegrass had on their instrumentation and harmonies. Of course they’re not Americana, they’re British! But while Marcus Mumford, the Lumineers, and their ilk may be more of a response to pop than country, they are still our distant kin.

And yet, I would wager that the Mumford and Nickel Creek crowds of the east coast bear very little resemblance to a red dirt festival in Oklahoma or a Kacey Musgraves home crowd in Texas.

The question is, how can we elevate roots music and take back country music from hick-hop light beer bros? How can we build a coalition large enough to make the record labels take notice, the way they noticed George Strait in 1983 and turned away from Nashville easy listening to the neo-traditionalists? We need some way – someone – to unite the the subgenres and create a movement.

L-r: Drew Ball of the Riverbreaks, Sturgill Simpson, and the author, Nathan Empsall

L-R: Drew Ball of the Riverbreaks, Sturgill Simpson, and the author, Nathan Empsall

Maybe, just maybe, Sturgill Simpson will bring together the hipsters and cowboys the way Willie brought together the hippies and bikers. He’s a country traditionalist but one who’s not afraid to experiment, and after refusing to compromise with the major labels, his independent second album smashed through and debuted at #11 this month. Who are the crowds taking notice and driving that to the top? He comes from Kentucky coal country but has been featured on NPR; are those audiences coming together to give Metamodern Sounds in Country Music such a big boost? And will radio take notice?

I don’t know. But whether Sturgill is the next Willie or not, he’s at least a herald – if not the roots Messiah, then maybe our John the Baptist, proving that a better future is coming soon. That said, I don’t mean to put pressure or expectations on him; his art is already a breath of fresh air that speaks for itself. I’d say let’s just cross our fingers, but you can’t pick a guitar with crossed fingers. Instead, pour another round, play that Uncle Tupelo album one more time, and we’ll see what we see when we see.

UPDATE: After writing this post, I did some more reading, and found that Trigger over at Saving Country Music makes a similar arugment.

I still have hope for the future of country music

George_strait_texas_monthly_cover_no_typeTexas Monthly is always far more than a regional magazine, but this month’s cover is really something special. No words, no article teasers, just a black-and-white of the retiring (from touring) king George Strait with his hand on his heart, looking straight into the camera and straight at his fans. It’s direct, it’s simple, and it tells a personal story without needing any bells, whistles, or other distractions — just like George Strait himself.

Granted, I’m biased; Strait has been my favorite artist since I was 10, and I write this post wearing jeans from Wrangler’s George Strait line, literally the only kinds of jeans I own. But even allowing for all that, the two cover articles are both must-reads for any traditional country fan – one a retrospective of Strait’s career by TM’s always-excellent John Spong, the other an essay pondering the future of country music by Music City Roots’ Craig Havighurst.

These are dark times for country music, there’s no doubt about that – and sadly, Havighurst argues that there will probably never be another King George. “Were [Strait] starting out today, he’d face a quick-hit culture that would undoubtedly clash against his tempo and timing… Perhaps the system just doesn’t do built-to-last anymore.” (Well, one can only hope that Florida Georgia Line will have the longevity of an Ikea dresser.) Havighurst also points out that Brad Paisley’s momentum is slowing, Josh Turner hasn’t been nominated for a major award in six years, and Kacey Musgraves’ critical adoration “feels like a dark harbinger of how she’ll fare on the radio long-term.” It all reminds me of what singer Clay Walker said late last year:

Traditional country music died. I think that George Strait winning Entertainer of the Year at the CMAs was, to me, a symbolic and a real closing of the door… I think people are fooling themselves if they think for a second that the recording industry is going to accept any more traditional country music on the radio.

Maybe Havighurst and Walker are right, but I’m not so sure. Strait was a traditional singer who toppled slick, commercial music and forced Nashville to make room for a new kind of sound. The way he did it can’t be replicated, no, but perhaps the feat itself can still be accomplished another way.

In 1980, Strait’s traditional, Texas sound was almost as out of place on mainstream country radio as it is today. I don’t disagree that the way Strait broke through then would be almost impossible to replicate today. As Spong explains:

Back then, most radio stations were owned by individuals, and all [manager Erv] Woolsey had to do to get Strait on the air was get program directors to attend his concerts. Now those stations are owned by only a handful of conglomerates like Clear Channel and Cumulus, and the people at the top of those pyramids have decided to stick with this new sound. Sometimes country radio seems like one long, loud song.

What all that means is that in 1983, you could have thousands of chances to make it big in dozens of regional markets; today, you have just three or four chances in one national market.

As dire as that sounds, the future of country radio and record labels is NOT the same thing as the future of country music. In 1983, if you wanted to be a music star, you had to make it big on the radio. That’s still somewhat true today, but things are changing fast, and the market landscape will be radically different by 2020 or 2030.

Radio isn’t dying the same way newspapers are, no, but ratings are falling. It’s true, 92% of Americans listen to the radio each week versus just 20% who listen to Internet radio – but 20% is a huge number when you consider that Spotify is just four years old. Demographics matter, too – what’s the age of the average FM music listener? Today’s youth don’t want to roll the dice and hope the DJ plays something cool when they can just design their own iPhone playlists.

Similarly, while major record labels are still the only way to become a superstar, they don’t have the same stranglehold on middle-tier success that they used to. Thanks to Internet crowd-funding and social media, there are now dozens of ways to build a fan base. Nothing proves that more than this month’s stellar news that traditionalist Sturgill Simpson’s second album debuted at #11 on the charts – independently produced, a perfect bird to the major labels.

Are Internet radio, social media, and crowd-funding the future of pop music? And if so, does that extend to the demographics of a traditionally more-rural format like country? I don’t know. The tech landscape is changing too fast, and too much is at stake in the net neutrality battle, for anyone to authoritatively state that they know what Web 3.0 or 4.0 will look like. But what we can say is that the future does not look like the present.

The deep pockets always tajohnny-cash-fingerke over a genre once it starts to get popular – and the people always counter with something new. When pop became stale, along came rock. When rock became too slick, along came punk. When Nashville threw out the steel guitars, the Texas outlaws gave them the middle finger and the neo-traditionalists pulled Hank Williams’ old cowboy hat out of the dumpster. And today, with pop more obsessed with teenagers than ever, indie folk has come along with its banjos.

Giant corporations try to put profit before people, but there are always just enough people with just enough voice to scream “SOD OFF” loud enough to make it stick. So no, the record labels can’t be beat the same way they were in 1983. But they can be beat another way, and time will show us exactly what that is. Maybe Sturgill is already leading the way.

Brad Paisley, Bipartisan Patriot

It was big news when President Obama visited troops in Afghanistan this Memorial Day weekend to say thank you. It’s easy to forget that we are still a nation at war – the press and most politicians certainly don’t go out of their way to remind us. So anytime Afghanistan is put back in the news, as an activist and the older brother of an Afghanistan vet, I’m grateful.

In lesser but equally cool news, Brad Paisley, fresh off a great appearance on Prairie Home Companion, joined the president on Air Force One for the trip!

Brad Paisley is one of the few mainstream stars still singing real country – and apparently, he’s also a bipartisan patriot. Brad might have spent this weekend with the Democrat Obama, but earlier this year, he was busy teaching the first President Bush how to take a selfie:

This I Believe: Music reaches everyone

This essay was written for a church project, and is modeled after the Edward R. Murrow and NPR “This I Believe” essay series.

I was a government and Native American studies major in college — but the best course I ever took was called “Beethoven in Context.”

When no one’s around, there are few things I love more than putting on headphones, turning off the lights, and freaking. out. to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Not the opening notes of the famous First Movement, but the crescendo between the third and fourth movements, the sudden shifts, the way all the instruments weave together, and the way it absolutely drives forward, pushing every limit.

But Beethoven didn’t hear it the same way. By the time he finished this symphony — a process that took him four years — he was two-thirds along the way to becoming entirely deaf. He could still feel the music’s power, though — they say he sawed the legs off his piano and sat on the floor, experiencing the vibrations of each and every note.

Even Beethoven could experience music. Music has a way of reaching literally everyone.

And so, I believe in the power of music. We all know what it’s like to hear a favorite song come on the radio and be whisked away to an old memory or special place. When I hear Bela Fleck’s “Big Country,” it’s like a door opens in my soul and I’m really back in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

If someone doesn’t love music, maybe it’s only because they haven’t heard the right song with the right voice or the right instrumentation yet. This is where my Native American studies professors come back in: Some tribes say that the most special thing you can ever receive or share is your singular song, the one that belongs only to you.

Music may not be my core belief or my mission in life, but it is what makes me who I am. It is how I best connect to God — taking in a brass concert at Christmastime, chanting psalms at a Boston monastery, or singing my favorite hymns on Easter Sunday.  Why, even an atheist can say that I connect to my creator through music. My birthmother played the flute when she was pregnant, and I’m told that for years after my birth, anytime I heard a flute, I stopped what I was doing and cocked my ear towards the radio.

In a more secular sense, I most feel like myself through music, whether that’s identifying with the realistic poetry of a new Americana favorite, feeling like I’m finally home during a Steep Canyon Rangers concert, working up a sweat just watching Springsteen videos and DVDs, or ending the day with a favorite mellow playlist of Alison Krauss and Billy Joe Shaver just before bed.

I even believe that certain songs saved my life during my angsty, most-depressed teenage years, holding me back from suicide by reminding me of a better future in grace.

Music makes us all equal. The worst singer can be the most grateful audience member; the worst guitar player the best poet. A Specter-esque wall of sound greets a hedge fund manager the same way a vocal chord can lift up an African farmer. Math may be the universal foundation, but music, with its inherent power and depth and as something to be experienced rather than simply heard, is the universal language.