Nine times out of 10, the sentence beginning with, “I like every type of music except . . .” leads to a discussion over whether country music is a worthy genre. Music enthusiasts tend to disagree over its value. While critics oppose the genre’s often cliché stories about whisky and trucks and girlfriends’ imposing daddies, fans argue that the genre stands out for its genuine stories that manage to capture basic human desire with an idealistic lifestyle.
Although this divide between country die-hard and country fault-finder is rarely crossed over by one side or the other, there is a genre that can bridge this gap and earn any music connoisseur’s appreciation: bluegrass.
Bluegrass elements are already leaking into mainstream music tastes, from banjo-savvy Mumford and Sons to Adele, who covered tunes from folk powerhouse SteelDrivers.
According to the International Bluegrass Music Museum, the style was solidified in 1939 when a popular touring band called Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys emerged from Kentucky, taking the latter name from Kentucky’s reputation as the “Bluegrass State.” However, its origins may date back to the mountain music in the 1600s, when Jamestown, Va., settlers “composed new songs about day-to-day life experiences in the new land,” according to the International Bluegrass Music Museum.
Meaning, the music centered on life on the farm or in the hills.
Because the genre developed in North America and told oral tales about life in rural America, its songs can have historical significance due to its folklore qualities.
Bluegrass utilizes the same instruments heard in country music. There are twangy banjos played at finger-blistering speeds. Guitars are played acoustically rather than electrically — no distortion or fiery effects, just pure unadulterated notes. Mandolins chirp away and bands utilize traditional instruments, with the double bass, cello and violin often showcased. Perhaps most distinguishable are the vocal harmonies; auto-tune’s absence is no hindrance when raw talent can be woven together to make a vocal tapestry.
The best way to explain the importance of this music would be to illustrate Pickin’ in the Pines Bluegrass and Acoustic Music Festival that was held in Flagstaff this past weekend.
Nestled amid Coconino County’s mountainous pine forest, the festival attracted people of all ages, from young girls twirling hula-hoops into the sky to happy-go-lucky fellows with beards. For three days listeners camped under a tame Arizona sun as band after band took stage every hour. For three days listeners experienced talent overload.
On Saturday, Tony Norris, with guitar in hand, sat comfortably with banjoist Bill Burke on stage. Most of the audience sat clustered about a large turf of bright green grass vibrant from Flagstaff’s recent rainstorms. Norris segued into his performance by using Arizona history, exposing the folklore side of bluegrass music; he sung a song about the old ghost town Jerome and a song about boats.
He explained Arizona has more boats per capita than any other state, despite the hopelessly land-locked location. His voice was refined as he gave his magnetizing performance. Even his songs without lyrics had a story: A cheerful banjo solo performed by Burke was a piece about British royalty, leaving the interpretation up to the listener’s imagination.
If Norris and company were magnetizing, Run Boy Run was electrifying. This quintet featured three-part female vocal harmonies while the singers simultaneously played instruments, ranging from cello to mandolin. The fiddler was a virtuoso, releasing violin freestyles to a stomping, clapping and cheering crowd.
As good as these instrumentalists were, they got even better as the day went on. It’s a true testament to these artists’ raw talents, untainted by media or money and kept strong by a passion for traditional music. The stories escalated in variety, ranging from the tale of a dog at an amusement park to an eerily upbeat murder ballad about the killing of a preadolescent girl.
When Foghorn Stringband took stage, it was female bassist Nadine Landry who revealed everything good about bluegrass. She swayed in the rear with her double bass, plucking the low strings to keep the lively beat going, her face utterly beaming with joy. The music was her world and nothing else mattered.
Audience members stepped forward to dance. Regardless of ability or age or even self-consciousness, they continued dancing freely, keeping their movements to the beat. There were Irish kicks and gipsy twists and Western two-steps. There were hopping children, waltzing couples and shimmying elderly women. For a brief moment in time, all walks, all ages, all stories became one dance. That’s something distinctly bluegrass.
Reach the reporter at jconigli@asu.edu
