“Side by Side” by Ralph Stanley & Ralph Stanley II

Ralph Stanley & Ralph Stanley II
Side By Side
Rebel Records
4½ stars (out of 5)

By Donald Teplyske

Eighty-seven years is a long time to live. To be recording at that age is highly unusual, but that is what we find today when we consider Ralph Stanley.
Recorded in 2013 (so more accurately 86 years old as a recording artist), “Side By Side” is a duet album by Stanley and his son, Ralph Stanley II that represents the first time the two have stood, well, side by side in the studio as equals rather than as ‘boss’ and Clinch Mountain Boy.

The selection of songs—four of which feature Ralph in strong lead voice—are almost exclusively older and well-known: the album kicks off with “Wild Bill Jones,” goes “Walking With You In My Dreams,” asks “Are You Waiting Just For Me,” and concludes with “I’ve Still Got 99.”

The musicianship is classic sounding—fresh and relaxed with a professional sheen that doesn’t get in the way of the emotions of the music. Clinch Mountain Boys alumni John Rigsby (fiddle and mandolin), Randall Hibbitts (bass), and Steve Sparkman (banjo) are the core band, with Two doing double duty on lead and rhythm guitar. Dr. Ralph lays out clawhammer-style on a solitary track, the aptly titled “Battle Ax.”

Doubting the senior Stanley’s vocal capabilities? Don’t. Instead, give “Don’t Weep for Me” a listen, or appreciate his excellent tenor contributions to any number of these songs including “Don’t Step Over An Old Love,” “Nobody Answered Me,” or “Carolina Mountain Home.”

Two has become a fine singer in his own right, one of my favorites. If you haven’t heard him before, also consider his album of a couple years back Born To Be A Drifter. “White & Pink Flowers” is a sentimental weeper, while “Dirty Black Coal” is more my style. Start to finish, Side By Side is a superior album of bluegrass.

Perusing these song titles, it is readily apparent what Two and co-producer Rigsby had in mind—a celebration of the Stanley mountain music legacy. And they have pulled such off in a significant way. “Side By Side” is cause for celebration. We all know Ralph Stanley had planned on retiring this year, but with his continuing good health delaying that decision one of the last true ‘first generation’ bluegrass singers continues to make appearances. And his latest album is as good as anything—and certainly superior to some—he has recorded in the past 20 years.

I would suggest that Side By Side is among the strongest bluegrass albums that has been released in 2014.

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“Dream Big” by the Darrell Webb Band

The Darrell Webb Band
Dream Big
Mountain Fever Records
4½ stars (out of 5)

By Larry Stephens

When Darrell Webb takes the stage he owns it. He stalks back and forth, puts a leg up on the front rail as he sings and plays, moves to a musician taking a break to share with him or just watch. He’s energetic and intense. He doesn’t just play, he performs. I reviewed Bloodlines four years ago and started by saying, “As soon as “I’m Bringing Home Good News” kicks off you know you’re in for a ride and it’s on a bluegrass train. Darrell Webb took a good Merle Haggard song and gave it a triple shot of Red Bull.” Fifteen hundred days later, hundreds of shows later, he hasn’t worn off his edge.

Dating back hundreds of years, coins have been placed on the eyes of the deceased so they can pay Charon, the ferryman, to row them across the River Styx – even though most of us aim for the River Jordan. “Ferry Man,” co-written by fiddler Jim VanCleve, is pure bluegrass, all about a life of hard times and hard living that’s come to a sad end:

Mother died when I was young

Father drank to kill the pain

The way my father left this world

I sadly did the same

Webb plays mandolin and sings the lead, joined by VanCleve, Tim Stafford (guitar), Jason Burleson (banjo), Shawn Lane (tenor) and Rob Ickes (resophonic guitar) and Jason Moore (bass). Just a sampling of the great musicians on this CD, a who’s who of the groups Webb has been a member of through the years, the instrumental work is excellent.

Staying with pain and despair, “Bad Old Yesterdays” is all about love so good then love gone bad, she was “unfaithful with the one I trusted most.” Bandmate Jake Joines plays Dobro and former LRB bandmate Sammy Shelor plays banjo with Aaron Ramsey playing mandolin. Things go from bad to worse when he’s about to swing on the “Devil’s Rope.” Bandmates Jared Hensley (guitar) and Jeremy Arrowood ( NS Bass) join him while while Webb plays both mandolin and banjo.

“Flying South to Dixie” has been around a long time and recorded by a slew of artists. It may qualify as the song with the most composers based on a Google search. Cindy Walker (who is credited here), Hank Snow, Hank Locklin and Robert Weber all pop up as composers. This may have arisen from the old custom of registering variations in your own name. Jamie Johnson and Terry Eldredge join Webb on vocals on this on this swinging old country song.

Another nod to the past is a Dr. Ralph Stanley favorite, “Pretty Polly.” Webb’s interpretation and banjo playing are top-notch. Moving to a more modern sound, “So Far” is a love song that Ronnie Bowman helps to sing and Phil Leadbetter contributes resophonic guitar. “Folks Like Us” will resonate with most anyone listening to it, describing the chasm between the working man and the rich man, asking if there’s “a way to get ahead that doesn’t make us bleed.” After all the news of greed and grift among people and companies that make more in an hour than most of us do in a year—or a lifetime—a lot of people will hear this story. Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent add vocals.

Webb and VanCleve composed “Mashtag,” an instrumental that starts off slow and reflective before kicking it up a notch. Another number that probably speaks more to older fans, those of us with enough years that we can look a long way back to the time when life seemed it would go on forever, is “More Life.” Co-written by Mike Reid, a great songwriter whose singing career didn’t last long enough, with Rhonda Vincent adding vocals, it’s the story of a man nearing the end of life. Thinking of what he will do “as soon as gets his back up to speed,” the nurse comes in “with something for the pain” and asks if there’s anything more he needs.

More life, more time

More faith and the presence of mind

To breathe deeper, love stronger

Stay in the moment one moment longer

Less anger, less worry, more life

Oh, my.

Darrell Webb will go down in the books as one of the great stars of bluegrass and this CD is just one piece of the proof.

 

 

“Lonesome and Then Some…A Classic 50th Celebration” by Larry Sparks

Larry Sparks
Lonesome and Then Some…A Classic 50th Celebration
Rebel Records
4½ stars (out of 5)

By Aaron Keith Harris

Larry Sparks is an undisputed bluegrass icon, as much for his prodigious talent—the mournful, masculine voice pitched a little lower than “high lonesome” and his commanding guitar technique—as his niche somewhere between bluegrass music’s first and second generations (as Carter Stanley’s successor alongside Dr. Ralph starting in 1966, he played a key role in that period of transition when followers of the founders started, ever so gently, branching out).

Fifty years a professional, he’s still as good a bluegrass (or country or gospel, for that matter) lead singer there is, and the band he’s got on this disc—David Harvey (mandolin), Ron Stewart (fiddle), Tyler Mullins (banjo), Larry D. Sparks (bass), and Jackie Kincaid (tenor vocals)—does him justice, especially Kincaid’s old-school harmony on the opening cut, Jimmie Skinner’s “Will You Be Satisfied That Way?” and the simmering gospel bluegrass of “We Prayed.”

Sparks offers up some more trad grass with tenor harmonies from fellow legends Ralph Stanley (on Carter’s “Loving You Too Well”), Bobby Osborne (“Letter to My Darlin’), and Curly Seckler (“Dim Lights, Thick Smoke”), while Seckler and Jesse McReynolds join in on Hank Williams’ gospel shouter “I’m Gonna Sing, Sing, Sing.”

But Sparks’ vocal virtuosity is in his ability to master both more contemporary bluegrass songs and banjo-less gospel. Here, the latter style is represented by “Going Up Home to Live in Green Pastures” (which never gets old, especially with Alison Krauss and Judy Marshall joining Sparks and solo guitar), and “Savior’s Precious Blood,” also with just bluesy guitar and that majestic voice.

Sparks again shows on the album’s three bluegrass story songs—the nostalgic “In Those Days,” the realistic coal mining ballad “Journey to the Light,” and the Southern gothic “Bitterweeds” how he can turn a good song into a great one.

The crowning touch of this 12-track disc is a 1995 live cut of Sparks joining Bill Monroe and His Blue Grass Boys on stage at Bean Blossom for “In the Pines,” which is predictably grand.

“Headwaters” by Jason Tyler Burton

Jason Tyler Burton
Headwaters
self-released
4 stars (out of 5)

By Donald Teplyske

Some wonderful albums could come from ‘anywhere’, and their universal appeal is one of the things that make them powerful. It matters not whether the songwriter was in Austin or Dublin, on the Spanish Steps or in Florence’s Accademia as his songs germinated, the lyrics and music reach across time and locales to capture emotions and sentiments that transcend something as obvious as setting.

Other albums are so assured in their sense of place they could only be from ‘that place.’ In every word, in each note, the sense of place is so strong that their connection to ‘that place’ is palpable.

Some of my favourite albums have that strength of place. Woodland Telegraph’s Sings Revival Hymns is one of those albums, a creation that is so tied to its genesis in the Canadian Rockies that it seemingly couldn’t have been produced elsewhere. To me, every album from John Wort Hannam and Maria Dunn  share a similar feeling: these are Alberta albums, even if their subject matter, inspiration, and very sound cross provinces, countries, and oceans. If you ask me, Jay Clark’s album’s couldn’t come from anywhere but east Tennessee, and more recently, Josephy Lemay has created music that shares a similar connection to place.

All of which brings me to Jason Tyler Burton’s new album, a disc that overflows with the atmosphere, openness, and clarity of the Utah and Wyoming wilderness that this Kentuckian now calls home. Living in a van and exploring this western land, Burton has created a remarkable album that connects listeners to a place they may never have before experienced.

I come to Burton’s new album Headwaters with no familiarity with his music. With a little research, I came across some live performances including a challenging little number entitled “Caleb Meyer’s Ghost,” in which Burton creates the back story for Gillian Welch’s (still) greatest song; in Burton’s interpretation, Nellie Kane’s assailant had his own troubles in life, but Burton doesn’t let him off the hook and holds him accountable for his actions. There is a little interview with Burton about this well crafted song posted at Murder Ballad Monday. The song is from Burton’s first release, The Mend.

While appealing and creative, this wouldn’t interest me nearly as much if Headwaters didn’t turn out to be such a captivating album. Firmly within the parameters of the ‘singer-songwriter’ oeuvre, Burton has crafted a dozen songs across this intense album. Each of these finds the artist searching and exploring—for truths, for comfort, for meaning…for ‘the headwaters’ that feed our spirits.
As communicated through his songs, Burton’s nomadic existence reminds us that the greatest journeys are within, examinations of our soul, our beliefs. Headwaters encourages this exploration through lyrically rich compositions framed with complementary and crisp instrumentation.

In the encouraging “Fly” he sings of someone “made for much bigger things,” even if that means leaving the singer behind. Searching for where “my headwaters run” in the title track, he vows to “keep moving along” with Katy Taylor harmonizing along, reminding us that life’s journey is (thankfully) seldom solitary.

Augmented by both Jessika Soli Bartlett’s cello and Lynsey Shelar’s violin and especially Steve Lemmon’s percussion, piano, and drums, the songs are complete without misplaced polish and shine, atmospheric without falling into twee faux-intensity.

There was obvious vision for this recording, and Burton and co-producer Dave Tate—who also contributes electric guitar, percussion, piano, and bass—have brought it to life. While individual credits for the songs are not indicated, Ryan Tilby rates mention if only for his obvious steel contributions to a few songs; he also is credited with various bass, guitar, and banjo parts, but so are others including Burton and Tate so it isn’t possible to identify who is playing what where.

Burton explores the inspirational certainly, but he is also realistic, as when he sings “I’ve got silver linings for every one of my dark clouds but yours.” The message seems to be: Sometimes, just  you can’t find a way. In “The Wanderer,” Burton seems to be sharing his own tale, and here the strings truly convey the spirit of the song—wistful hope blurring with stark realism.

The restless intensity of the protagonist of “Thicker Than Water” is tangible; what he is going to do with it, what is going to come of it, is less obvious. This is certainly my favourite song on the album, a performance that—like the Welch/Rawlings song that previously inspired Burton—provides motivation to this writer to explore the dark shadows of the woods.

Not to give the impression that the album is overly brooding—although Headwaters does have a bit of a minor key feel if not in actuality—”Evergreen” may be the album’s most lively number, coming close to being a mountain stomper. “Being ten thousand feet above this town” as he is in “Tightrope Walker” brings additional lightness to the album.

Headwaters has a strong, evident sense of place, but like all great albums of this nature it bridges the distance to allow listeners to become immersed in situations and experiences far from their comfort zone.

And, as an aside, if you haven’t listened to Guy Clark’s Dublin Blues in a couple of years, do that today; damn, that album is great!

“Generations” by the Bluegrass Brothers

The Bluegrass Brothers
Generations
Mountain Fever Records

4 stars (out of 5)

By Larry Stephens

Slip this CD in your player and you know from the first bars that this is bluegrass, no quibbling, no doubts. You can get a sense of their energy by looking at a performance from a few years back.

The original members of the band are Victor (bass and vocals) and Robert (banjo and vocals) Dowdy. Victor sings lead on “The Merger,” by Junior Sisk and his father Harry.  As expected, the instrumental support is top-notch. The mix is good and their version of the song isn’t far removed from a Junior Sisk rendition. The vocals are pure rural country and could be nothing but bluegrass. Robert’s vocals are closer to a balladeer and he could do country music as easily as bluegrass. “One More Mountain” is one of the best songs on the CD.

The band now includes Victor’s sons, Steven (guitar), and Donald (mandolin). Steven enjoyed a stint with Junior Sisk’s band while Donald spent time with James King. King and Sisk are both strong bluegrass performers and their bands are an excellent way to learn the bluegrass trade. Steven sings lead on a James Lilly number, “Blue Ridge Mountain Man:

Fourteen dogs, a wife and kids

He’s doing the best he can

Workin’ all day, huntin’ all night,

He’s a Blue Ridge mountain man

One of Steven’s hobbies is coon hunting and, having spent many hours crossing hollers in the dark myself, the song strikes a chord with me. “Memories Of My Childhood” features Donald on lead. This is another excellent song and he sings it well. He also sings one of his own compositions, “Moonshine Man,” proving to be a capable composer with lyrics as well as music. This is a good song that should find its way into many jams.

They reach over to the country side with John Conlee’s “Backside of Thirty.” Victor’s lead on this number dials back the folksiness of his vocals and he turns in a good performance of this country hit. Another good number is J. C. Radford’s prison song, “[Wearing a] Ball and Chain.” Chris Hart plays resophonic guitar with the group and composed a good disaster song, “When The Mountain Fell,” describing the disaster in Nelson County, Virginia in August, 1969. Another good song that could cross to the country side is “Don’t Bother To Waste My Time.”

If you like your bluegrass the way it was done by Monroe, Martin and Flatt then you’ll enjoy the Bluegrass Brothers.

“Chapter One – Roots” and “Chapter Two – Boots” by the Willis Clan

The Willis Clan
The Willis Clan: Chapter One – Roots
The Willis Clan: Chapter Two – Boots
self-released

4 stars (out of 5)

By Larry Stephens

Most fans of bluegrass and country music are familiar with transition stories: Harold Jenkins (rock ‘n’ roll) to Conway Twitty; Marty Raybon, bluegrass to country (Shenandoah) back to bluegrass; the Statler Brothers and the Oak Ridge Boys, from southern gospel to country. You don’t often hear of a transition from traditional Irish music to bluegrass, but Irish music is viewed as one of the foundations of bluegrass and many familiar bluegrass songs have Irish roots, such as “Raglan Road,” “Colleen Malone” and “Katy Daley.”

The Willis Clan offers two CDs. Roots is Irish music with a combination of vocals and instruments that may not be familiar to many. You’ll hear a bass, a violin and a banjo, but there’s also an accordion, whistles, pipes and a bodhran. Your first thought may be that you know nothing about this music, have never heard it, but as you listen the songs have a ring of familiarity. You may have never heard “Ship of the Line” or “Jack B”—all the tracks were composed by the Clan—but you’ve heard this style of music on TV and in the cinema. It’s closely related to Celtic music and, without splitting hairs over origins, you’ll hear similar strains in Lord of the Rings. It will be familiar if you’ve ever been to a Celtic Woman concert (I highly recommend the experience) or listened to Enya.

The Clan ably performs the music. They are very good singers and musicians. These are the twelve children (whose names all begin with “J”) of Toby and Brenda Willis. Rather than attempt telling their stories here, visit their web page and read about each of the children. (Also visit a page telling of a tragedy that befell the family. Given the time frame, these must be the siblings of Toby Willis.)

And now they have added bluegrass to their repertoire. Again, all tracks are originals by the family (lyrics on their website) and most of the family is involved in the CD. Father Toby played the synths. Musicians include the six older children (Jessica, Jeremiah, Jennifer, Jeanette, Jackson and Jedi) while the next four (Jazz, and Julie, Jamie and Joy Anna on “Butterfly”) contribute vocals. Only their mother and Jaeger and Jada sit this one out. Guest musicians include John and David Meyer (banjo: “City Down Below”, piano: “Plowin’ Song”) and Chris Wright (percussion).

You can hear some of the Irish in their bluegrass. Every band wants its own identity but the Cherryholmes are the comparison many people will make. They remind me of the Cherryholmes, especially the last two years of their existence. The Willis’ brand of bluegrass has a very modern sound and some modern lyrics. “The Fields Have Turned Brown” was a look at life away from home. The Clan sings about “Since I Left Home:”

It’s a little bit wilder

It’s a little more free

Discovering on my own

Discovering me

Love is a favorite topic of many genre, and one take on it is “Nervous Breakdown,” a reaction when someone the singer may love approaches. “Ode To A Toad” is weird from a bluegrass perspective, but a cute song. It’s recitation about a “squat and slimy – big and fat” toad who “in mud he wallowed – bugs he swallowed” until he tackled something too big.

Finally in desperation

Giving way to aggravation

Out he stepped into the street

Never knowing what he’d meet

A passing car was unaware

Of tragedy occurring there

And lickity split, berbump, ker-splat

The grup was gone…

The toad was flat

A pancake colored brown and green

The spectacle was quite obscene

Not Jimmy Martin. Maybe Lester Flatt?

They include a good gospel number, “City Down Below,” about God’s destruction of Sodom with just a hint of a segue to the present. My favorite is “Sadie,” a tragedy about a woman who mysteriously died. If they were making a classic bluegrass CD and filled it with a dozen more like this one they would be on target—allowing for the inevitable differences of opinion about anything musical.

Unless your music collection is nothing but Mr. Monroe and Dr. Stanley, there’s a lot to enjoy in these CDs: impressive picking and singing and a load of talent concentrated in this family that makes Tennessee their home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Somewhere Far Away” by Bradford Lee Folk and the Bluegrass Playboys

Bradford Lee Folk and the Bluegrass Playboys
Somewhere Far Away
Five Of Diamonds Records
4 stars (out of 5)

By Donald Teplyske

The early 2000s were an exciting time in bluegrass music’s still-brief history.

In some ways a changing of the guard was underway, as the next generation of players and singers were emerging while first and second generation legends were feeling—in various ways—the hands of time.

In other places, the music was stretching as jazz, pop, mainstream, classical, and other influences were not only colouring the contemporary bluegrass sound, but in some cases were being wholeheartedly incorporated into the music.

While all this was occurring, there were—as there has always been—others who were taking the music back to its roots, defining bluegrass by building upon its very stable foundation.

Bands as diverse as the Infamous Stringdusters and the Grasshoppers hit the ground running. Pine Mountain Railroad and Nickel Creek could be heard alongside the Wilders and the Karl Shiflett and Big Country Show.

Youngsters straight out of college—and others still in high school—formed bands who performed largely original songs while ably demonstrating their mastery of the deep catalogue established by the Monroes, Osbornes, Stanleys, McReynoldses, and the west coast pioneers like Vern & Ray, bands like the Steep Canyon Rangers, King Wilkie, Barefoot Bluegrass, and more.

Super groups like Rock County, the Grascals, BlueRidge, and Wildfire reinvigorated sidemen and veterans of the business. We were riding the O Brother bubble. Stringbands were everywhere, jam bands started to be welcomed into our world, and thanks to the increasing capabilities of the Internet, regional bands could connect with the wider bluegrass audience as never before.

Some of the groups are still going today, while more flamed out after a couple albums, and others faded away almost as quickly as they appeared: why didn’t the Circuit Riders ever achieve the level of prominence their debut album promised?

Of all the bluegrass bands that made a splash after the turn of the century, few held the potential of Open Road. Before their self-titled, Sally Van Meter-produced debut appeared, their name was beginning to be passed around by those who had caught a performance of the Colorado-based group. When that independent album—the one with BLUEGRASS prominently above the band’s name, and with the bold pronouncement/disclaimer “featuring 5-string banjo”—hit the player, converts were instantly made.

Their music had drive and fire. They were fronted by two young guys who seemed to have been born to play the bluegrass music, mandolinist Caleb Roberts and guitar picker and lead singer Bradford Lee Folk. Not only did they look the part—from their publicity photos, both could have been in the Clinch Mountain Boys around the time Skaggs and Whitley left—they recreated the classic sound of bluegrass wonderfully, as the cliché goes ‘making old songs sound new, making new songs sound old.’

Open Road toured relentlessly, signed on with Rounder Records and released two additional albums to great acclaim, Cold Wind and …in the life. They acknowledged their influences, some like Del Williams, Buzz Matheson & Mac Martin, and Vern & Ray, under-heralded within much of the broader bluegrass world. Their concert appearances were exciting and fresh, their albums ideal.

Around the time their third Rounder album appeared, the band broke up. The band had experienced personnel changes over time—fiddlers seemed to come and go with each new release—but shortly after Lucky Drive was released in 2005, Open Road was “flaming out from the pressures and temptations of being thrown into the touring musician life too young,” according to Folk’s current one-sheet.

I seem to recall hearing that Roberts was going to attempt to keep working the bluegrass road, but the last I heard he was in Colorado working for a living, but still picking. Folk sought stability, bought a Colorado honkytonk, booking bands in and working the other side of the music business table. From what I understand, he eventually relocated to Nashville, started gigging, and this past spring released his first recording in almost ten years, Somewhere Far Away.

The first thing one may notice when listening to the brief, eight-song collection is that things seem to be a bit mellower, less frenetic. There is no shortage of energy on this set of modern-Americana infused bluegrass. It is just that Folk isn’t in any great hurry to get to wherever it is he is taking us. The approach is perhaps a bit more mature, with a greater emphasis placed on mood and atmosphere.

The album’s lead track, like all but two of the songs a Folk original, is likely the one most reminiscent of the familiar Open Road approach. “Foolish Game of Love” features Matt Flinner’s mando at the fore, providing that audible connection to the music Folk previously made with Roberts. Folk pushes the music, his voice dipping into a purposeful near-mumble at some points, while at other moments in the song he is clear in his articulation. This expressive, mournful drawl works in counterpoint to the artful and lonesome clarity of his tenor, loading the song with restrained emotion.

Folk remains a great singer, but now is even more expressive in his communication than he was when he was younger. The fire has been tempered, but it continues to burn.

In some ways, and not only in its brevity, Somewhere Far Away recalls Jimmy Martin’s ‘good and country’ bluegrass albums. This recording is every bit as spirited as Martin’s finest recordings, but like them there is also a bit of an edge to the songs, a touch of bitterness and regret. “Trains Don’t Lie” is rich in atmosphere while conveying a narrative that is complete and compelling. “Denver” is a song that (I think) contrasts the longing for an open road with the comfort and familiarity of home.

Undoubtedly a bluegrass recording, Folk incorporates a very strong band to solidify his sound. Robert Trapp, the only member of Folk’s current Bluegrass Playboys appearing on the album, is a very strong 5-string player; his break and fills on “Never Looking Back”—a John Stewart-meets-Sam Bush epic in miniature—are impressive without detracting from the musicians working with him. With Flinner, Matt Combs (I’m guessing fiddle) and Mike Bub (bass, I’m hoping it is safe to suggest—the album doesn’t contain specific credits) round out the core group.

As an aside, “Never Looking Back,” by Jim Kelly, previously appeared (with a very different arrangement) on David Davis & the Warrior River Boys outstanding 2009 album, Two Dimes & A Nickel; Folk learned the song while he was playing with Davis—I’m guessing around the time that album was released—something I didn’t know he had done.

While there are only eight songs on the album, there is no shortage of memorable songs. A standout is the closing track, “Soil and Clay;” written by Folk, this earthy ballad is as dark as it is honest, much like a Fred Eaglesmith song. The album’s other non-original comes from Folk’s friend Nick Woods; “The Wood Swan” is another good one, and really showcases the various musicians’ abilities.

Bradford Lee Folk and the Bluegrass Playboys may not receive the unbridled heralding that greeted Open Road. Somewhere Far Away is a bluegrass album, without doubt. But it is a different sort of bluegrass than that produced by Open Road. There are more shades to this music, more exploration of the gravel bits on the road’s shoulder rather than heading straight down the white lines in the middle of the highway.