“Nashville” by the Osborne Brothers

The Osborne Brothers
Nashville
Pinecastle Records
4 stars (out of 5)

By Aaron Keith Harris

Give the folks at the resurgent Pinecastle Records credit for issuing this fourth and final chapter in an ambitious Osborne Brothers career retrospective—begun in 1998—in spite of many obstacles, most notably Sonny’s retirement.

The three previous installments—Hyden (1998), Dayton to Knoxville (2000), and Detroit to Wheeling (2003)— were mostly new recordings of Osborne classic tracks associated with different segments of their career, and Nashville seems to have been planned as a similar revival, this time of their most commercially successful period as veteran Grand Ole Opry stars who grabbed lots of country airplay in the late ‘60s and through the ‘70s after adding steel guitar, drums, and electric bass to Sonny’s unique banjo picking and Bobby’s soaring lead singing.

Instead, Nashville brings to light seven lost recordings from a album abandoned by the group when they abruptly, and unhappily, left MCA Records, which had appropriated their previous label, Decca. Cut in Bradley’s Barn in 1973 (which I think is correct, though in one place, the liner says 1975) with studio pros including Vassar Clements (fiddle), Pig Robbins (piano), and Hall Rugg (steel and Dobro), it’s pretty stout stuff.

The Bobby composition “Gonna Be Raining When I Die” surely would have been a radio hit that year, and Phil Rosenthal’s “Muddy Waters,” cut by the Seldom Scene the same year, shows just how sophisticated the brothers from Hyden, Ky. could be.

With two killer Louvin tracks (“My Baby’s Gone” and “When I Stop Dreaming”) and three from the pen of Jake Landers (“The Oak Tree,” “Going Back to the Mountains,” and “The Hard Times”), they were clearly in the home stretch of a project that would have stood with their best.

Quite satisfying that we finally have them here—along with an eighth track, Roger Miller’s “Half a Mind” from a strictly acoustic 1995 session that features Terry Eldredge joining the vocal trio and Gene Wooten’s Dobro trading licks with Sonny’s crisp and woody guitjo.

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“Trouble Follows Me” by Junior Sisk and Ramblers Choice

Junior Sisk and Ramblers Choice
Trouble Follows Me
Rebel Records
4 stars (out of 5)

By Chris Shouse

Growing up on a farm in Eastern Kentucky in the 1980s, my dad had this old 1977 Ford Series 2600 tractor.  This tractor was the workhorse of its era—nothing fancy, just a three-cylinder diesel-powered engine humming along at 38 horsepower. This tractor was steady and true; it seemed to know what you wanted it to do. When first listening to the Junior Sisk and Ramblers Choice album Trouble Follows Me, I kept imagining that old blue tractor plugging along through the fields, steady and true. Just like the tractor, Sisk is in his niche here doing what he does best—singing traditional bluegrass music.

Eastwood Studios did a great job of getting the true tones of each instrument, including Sisk’s smooth, rich voice, which blends well with the harmony vocals of Johnathon Dillon (mandolin) and Jason “Sweet Tater” Tomlin (upright bass). This nostalgic blend gives the listener the feel of traditional bluegrass but adds just enough intuitive licks to keep you on your toes. This album also features tunes from some of my favorite songwriters: Bill Castle, Ronnie Bowman, Michael Martin Murphy, Tom T. and Dixie Hall, Dallas Frazier—and one track by the legendary Carter Stanley. I love when bands tip their hats to the vintage tones of our grassfathers who shared the same vision for rooted traditional music.

The album starts with the nice hook of Bill Castle’s “Honky Tonked to Death,” fun tale of one being mixed up in the shenanigans of traveling musicians, followed by “Don’t Think About it Too Long,” which recalls the Bluegrass Album Band sound with some nice banjo picking by Jason Davis. After these two mid-tempo songs, Ramblers Choice shifts to a higher gear with “I’d Rather Be Lonesome.” As Billy Hawks’ fiddle saws, I’m tapping my toes with the fast paced three chords and the truth.

Dallas Frazier’s song “All I Have To Offer You is Me” was once popularized by the great country singer Charlie Pride, and Sisk has plenty of room in its slow tempo to work in the strong emotion that he’s known for creating, and he puts chills down my spine when he hits the lyric “and the silence grows louder” in the evocative melody of “Cold Empty Bottle” from songwriters Ronnie Bowman and Bryce Barker.

The bare-bones “Walk Slow,” written by Tom T. and Dixie Hall, has nice lead guitar from Hawks, and has more of a singer-songwriter texture than the rest of this album; another change of pace is Tomlin singing a smooth lead on the Michael Martin Murphy song “What am I Doing Hanging Round

Sisk’s credentials as a Stanley disciple are strongly evident, both with “Our Darling’s Gone,” a lesser-known Carter Stanley composition, and “Jesus Walked Upon the Water” an a cappella gospel song with the type of arrangement Ralph Stanley helped popularize in bluegrass circles.

“Frost on the Bluegrass” offers a fresh take on the central bluegrass theme of longing for home after leaving for work, and is one of my favorite tracks on the album, as is the title track, a hard-driving co-write from Sisk and his father, Harry Sisk Sr.

I might like to hear a more diverse mix of songs, particularity tempo-wise (which can be difficult as traditional bluegrass seems to favor a lot of mid-tempo songs around the 120bpm range), but make no mistake: any fan of traditional bluegrass will appreciate the quality of musicianship, songwriting, and singing that Junior Sisk and Ramblers Choice deliver here.

“Brownsboro” by the Misty Mountain String Band

The Misty Mountain String Band
Brownsboro

No label
3 stars (out of 5)

By John H. Duncan

Louisville’s Misty Mountain String Band sounds like many new wave string bands you may have heard—but, they do it better than most. Their sophomore release Brownsboro is full of genuinely good picking and singing, and is firmly tied to this decade.

A Kickstarted project with pop sensibilities, it’s clearly influenced by the Infamous Stringdusters, and the String Cheese Incident, Mumford and Sons (the banjo, when included, is played in either a Pete Seeger style or clawhammer style; however, it is not too prominent).

A lot of crowdfunded music projects have produced very slick presentations with all the trappings of a good band that were formerly provided by record companies—high resolution pictures, videos, t-shirts and web sites—but the music sometimes doesn’t cut it. But the 10-song, 40-minute Brownsboro overall is breezy, melodic, and well-played.

Brian Vickers (guitar), Neal Green (fiddle), Paul Martin (mandolin and banjo), and Derek Harris (bass) have created songs on this album that showcase melody focused picking (eight of the 10 tracks are originals) and their pop-flavored harmony singing is pretty refreshing. “Caged Bird” grabs a nice gypsy jazz feeling, and “Ship in a Bottle” is a perfect example of their influences outside of Americana, with Green’s fiddle and Martin’s mandolin closing the song with a brief but lovely baroque outro.

The two strictly instrumental tracks on the album are mid-tempo and sans banjo: the slightly Celtic title track and the haunting, lonesome “Turin’s Lament,” which evokes Bill Monroe’s “Dead March” and features a slow flat picked intro by  Vickers with a bowed bass counter point by Harris.

The truly standout track is “Everlasting Arms,” beautifully arranged and sung in a powerfully subtle way with fine fiddling from Green.

“Steam Powered Aero Plane,” the album’s other familiar track, doesn’t come off as well, as both the picking and singing sound tentative compared to the legendary original from a legendary band, but that’s merely a quibble about a nice disc from a band with real potential.

 

“Another Day From Life” by Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers

Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers
Another Day From Life
Rebel Records

5 stars (out of 5)

By Larry Stephens

Wow. That was my first reaction as I listened to the Radio Ramblers’ latest CD and I’m sticking with that. Having a very good stage show and producing an excellent CD don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand, and it seems many bluegrass groups do better with the CDs than showmanship. Mullins, for me, does both very well. He has a very good band, is a good banjo player and singer, and what he talks about during his show adds to the bluegrass book of knowledge, it’s not just chatter.

Veterans Day has just passed and my church played a video accompanied by “Some Gave All.” That song gets to me every time I hear it and now I can add “The Last Parade” from Another Day from Life to that list. Duane Sparks (guitar) sings lead, Mullins (banjo) tenor, and Mike Terry (mandolin) baritone. It’s a story about a young man who has given his life for his country and now he’s come home for his last parade. It starts off with just the guitar behind Sparks, describing the people along the parade route. The mandolin joins in with a sparse melody on the second verse as the storyteller “took my flag” and “took my place on the town’s main drag.” Then the band and harmony singers join in. You feel it all the way to your heart. That’s the mark of a good song.

The band are all excellent musicians and they take the time to come up with good arrangements for the tracks. Bands are often so concerned about what notes they are going to play that they forget to consider when not to play. Space creates impact and this band understands this. The other band members are Randy Barnes (bass) and Evan McGregor (fiddle). Put them all together and you have a great traditional bluegrass band.

“Johnson Island Prison” was a real Civil War prison and this song tells about the unhappy life of a prisoner there, a Rebel who hates the cold of this northern jail. They shift to another form of misery with “Eat, Drink and Be Merry.” This is an old Porter Wagoner song and the rest of the title line is “tomorrow you’ll cry.” This number has an unusual melody and chord progression. (For you musicians, it’s 1 – 5 – 2 – 5 – 2, or C – G7 – D7 – G7 – D7. It sounds like the second line changes chords up one step.) Herschel Sizemore penned “Going Back To My Old Kentucky Home,” all about moving to the city for a better job, hating it, finally going back to the country and Kentucky. This is a saga that’s been repeated many times as people emigrate from the rural areas of the bluegrass belt but find the cities aren’t the life they want.

Mark Brinkman has penned a number of excellent songs and he’s done it again with “Through a Coal Miner’s Eyes.” Shut your eyes and let the story take you down into the ground and abyss of the underground coal mine. It’s all a lot of people have but not a place I want to go. If you hear an instrument on this number you can’t quite place, it’s probably Sonny Osborne’s guitjo being played by Mullins. Staying with the working man theme, they celebrate the life of the blue collar worker with “Blue Collar Blues,” a lively number that tells us the ups and downs of the blue collar life.

Songwriter Bill Castle wrote the title number, describing all the things that go on in life: happiness, strife, drunks, bad news. It’s an unusual topic for a song but Castle wrote a good one. Another song mixes the notion of life’s woes with a life once lived. “Hymns From The Hills” features some great four-part harmony with Barnes singing the bass line. Another very good four-part track is the old gospel number, “The Dearest Friend I Ever Had.” Another gospel track is one that is well known in southern gospel circles but not heard as much in bluegrass. Bill and Gloria Gaither’s “Because He Lives” is one of the best gospel songs you’ll ever hear and the band does a fabulous job with it.

One of the most celebrated songwriters in country music across the decades is Hank Williams. “May You Never Be Alone Like Me” has all the pathos you expect from a Williams’ ballad and I love his version, but the three-part version from the Ramblers nails this song and the mandolin and fiddle take a beautiful break on it. Speaking of country music, they do a hot version of Cindy Walker’s “Miss Molly,” recorded by Bob Wills in 1942.

Joe Mullins and his Radio Ramblers are one of the best groups on the circuit and you’ll wear out this CD on your player.

 

“The Way I’m Livin'” by Lee Ann Womack

Lee Ann Womack
The Way I’m Livin’
Sugar Hill Records
4½ stars (out of 5)

By Donald Teplyske

Lee Ann Womack had an extended reign as one of the most prominent country music entertainers of the late ’90s through to the late-aughts. But country music record companies are fickle these days, so Womack returned this autumn with her first album of new material in six years on Sugar Hill.

The Way I’m Livin’ is pure country with all the duality such entails. The difference this time out is that the songs come from a selection of the finest Americana writers of recent decades.

Some songs are sad and sentimental (“Send It On Down,” from Chris Knight and David Leone), while others find her dancing with the devil (the album’s wonderful—but largely ignored by country radio—lead single from Adam Wright, “The Way I’m Livin’.”) Julie Miller’s “Listen To The Wind” provides depth, and allows Womack to cut loose vocally while playing off the band, notably electric guitarist Duke Levine. Also among those contributing songs are Hayes Carll, Mindy Smith, Brennan Leigh, and Bruce Robison, with two.

Folks like Mac McAnally (guitar, piano), Paul Franklin (steel guitar), Hank Singer (fiddle, mandolin) and Glenn Worf (bass) create a throwback country sound that is clearly appealing.

Throughout this expansive album, Womack is in exceptional voice. Too mature to confuse histrionics for passion, to these ears Womack has never sounded better, more comfortable, or assured. “Nightwind” is a showcase for Womack’s singing, with gentle backing allowing her to carry the emotional weight of the song. “Same Kind of Different” sounds familiar, in a light and positive way, from first listen. Roger Miller’s performance of “Tomorrow Night in Baltimore” just missed the Top 10 in 1971; here, Womack flips the perspective and in doing so softens the off-putting tale of a sad man obsessed with a dancer.

“Out On The Weekend” is yet another chance for Womack to shine as she enlivens and freshens Neil Young’s classic song. Instrumentally, the performance is fuller than Young’s, and Womack’s voice is so much warmer; swapping the gender of the teller allows Womack to inhabit the song, delivering intensified vulnerability.

Within an industry where Nashville is reality, there should be room for an artist of Lee Ann Womack’s quality and intensity on the charts and radio. It appears, however, that Womack is going to have to continue creating her own path well outside the commercial country mainstream, much like folks such as Rosanne Cash, Rodney Crowell, and Emmylou Harris did before her.

It has worked out pretty well for them; no reason it shouldn’t for the multiple Country Music Association Award-winning Womack.

 

“The Earls of Leicester” by the Earls of Leicester and “Three Bells” by Mike Auldridge, Jerry Douglas & Rob Ickes

The Earls of Leicester
The Earls of Leicester
Rounder Records
4 stars (out of 5)

Mike Auldridge, Jerry Douglas & Rob Ickes
Three Bells

Rounder Records
5 stars (out of 5)

By Aaron Keith Harris

I was reading Keith Richards’ autobiography Life when I got and started listening to these two albums, which were released simultaneously by Rounder. He writes about the unlikelihood that a few teenagers in London would make it their life’s mission—at least foe a few years—to become a Chicago-style blues band, and that such a thing was only possible because of the invention of recorded music. Though he first picked up a guitar only about 25 years after the death of Robert Johnson and while the likes of Muddy Waters and Little Walter were still alive and productive, there’s simply no way he would have ever heard their music were it not for vinyl records and radio waves. Before their invention, musical styles grew slowly. Music was tied to a particular place and people, and to activities like Saturday night dancing and Sunday morning worship—a juxtaposition that influenced bluegrass music as much as it did the blues.

Music also passed from hand to hand, from master to apprentice. Musical mutations into new styles only occurred when a genius came along to synthesize and create from what already existed—the example most obvious to readers of this site is of course bluegrass music, which happened when the cross-eyed boy from Kentucky played dances with his fiddling uncle and a black guitar player at the same time and place musical evangelists were teaching the shape-note choir singing style. Without proximity to those three elements, Bill Monroe would not have created what Alan Lomax called “the first clear-cut orchestral style to appear in the British—American folk tradition in five hundred years.”

You wouldn’t quite call Josh Graves a genius on Monroe’s level, but he certainly was a virtuoso, much like Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, who hired Graves so his Dobro sound could further distinguish the Foggy Mountain Boys from other early exponents of Monroe’s art. (For the full story, read Bluegrass Bluesman.) Graves’ innovations led to a new vein of gifted musicians deciding to play bluegrass, including Mike Auldridge, who bought his first Dobro from Graves himself.

It’s to pay homage to Graves and the sound he helped create, of course, that prompted Jerry Douglas, the undisputed Dobro master, to form the Earls of Leicester. Walk down Broadway in Nashville, and you’ll bump into enough pickers who could play an impromptu Lester & Earl set, but the five that Douglas has enlisted do it as good as it could possibly be done: Union Station’s Barry Bales plays upright bass, Johnny Warren fiddles as good as his father Paul did with the Foggy Mountain Boys, and Tim O’Brien (mandolin), Shawn Camp (lead vocals, guitar), and Charlie Cushman (banjo) play the parts, respectively, of Curly Seckler, Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs.

The effect they achieve on this 14-track album is uncanny—they don’t sound exactly like the source material, but they capture the key element of the Flatt & Scruggs sound—its effortless mixture of down-home drive and smooth sophistication. It’s great to hear Camp, an accomplished country-rock singer songwriter, sing bluegrass, coming closer to Lester’s vocal style than one could imagine anyone else doing, and O’Brien and Cushman have Curly’s chop and Earl’s roll down pat. Warren’s fills and breaks are as exciting as his daddy’s were, and Douglas’ vicariously reminds us just how important the grafting of Graves on to the bluegrass family tree was for what we hear and appreciate today. Adding the Dobro’s six strings as the music’s sixth instrument gave it so much more depth without sacrificing a bit of its integrity.

After Graves and before Douglas, there was Mike Auldridge. As a founding member of the Seldom Scene, Auldridge helped that band firmly establish the “progressive” approach to bluegrass—mixing in both the songs and the sensibilities of the country-rock and singer-songwriter styles of the 1970s. You can do a lot with a traditional five-piece bluegrass unit, but you absolutely cannot put across a song like “Sweet Baby James,” much less make it far superior to the original, without that small taste of Auldridge’s Dobro.

In the months before Auldridge died in 2012, he recorded Three Bells with Douglas and Rob Ickes—no backing band, just the three of them—with Auldridge’s instrument in the middle of the stereo mix, Douglas left, and Ickes right. I don’t think an approach like this could work, in a simply technical sense, nearly as well with any other instrument—especially not among the other five bluegrass tools. And it’s hard to imagine three other players could use this approach to create a sound so skilfully woven, as if all 18 strings were played by only one musician.

The 11-song, 45-minute track list is free of cliché—only “Panhandle Rag,” a composition of Leon McAuliffe (Bob Wills & the Texas Playboys) is from the bluegrass/country instrumental canon, which makes sense. Such tunes are written with the idea that each instrument in the band can have a turn showing what it can do before passing off to the next man.

Instead, this ensemble refashions old parlor, jazz, and easy listening songs like “Silver Threads Among the Gold,” “Sunrise Serenade,” and “The Three Bells” into brocaded tone poems free from the schmaltzy sheen present in their most popular versions. Don Reno’s “I’m Using My Bible for a Roadmap” is similarly refined into a stately hymn.

But of course, Auldridge, Douglas, and Ickes are all gifted composers as well, and their own songs are the best on this album: Auldridge’s bright and bouncy “For Buddy,” Douglas’ propulsive “North,” and Ickes’ perfectly titled “Dobro Heaven.”

Each man also contributes a solo performance—Auldridge a gorgeous medley of “‘Till There Was You/Moon River,” Ickes his own reflective “The Message,” and Douglas the truly sublime “The Perils of Private Mulvaney”—to remind us both the emotional richness a single Dobro can convey, and of why this trio making this record just in time is so special.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Fiddle Tune X” by Billy Strings & Don Julin

Billy Strings & Don Julin
Fiddle Tune X
No label
3½ stars (out of 5)

By Donald Teplyske

Michigan acoustic duo Billy (Apostol) Strings and Don Julin have released their second recording, a live album entitled Fiddle Tune X. It is an animated, forceful collection of mostly very familiar songs, none of which appeared on their debut album of last year.

I have heard it argued—and may have taken this position myself—that a duo cannot play bluegrass as it is impossible to include the necessary elements of the genre with only two instrumentalists. Strings (guitar) and Julin (mandolin) may not feature fiddle or bass, but everything about their stance suggests deep interest in and respect for bluegrass. They are certainly a bluegrass duo.

While the sound may not be bluegrass in its purest form, the essence of the music is certainly concentrated within the duo’s sparse framework. They draw on the fiddle-tune foundation of bluegrass (“Salt Creek”/”Old Joe Clark”), the influence hillbilly and country sounds had on its founders (“Beaumont Rag,” “Walk On Boy,” and “Miss the Mississippi and You,”), and the standards that are at the core of the music (“Poor Ellen Smith,” “How Mountain Girls Can Love,” and “I Ain’t Gonna Work Tomorrow.”)

While such a repertoire may appear tired or pedestrian, such is not the case. Strings and Julin bring an abundance of energy to their performance, feeding off each other and their audience to elevate these frequently encountered songs. While most of the songs have been around next to forever, the pair—working around a single mic—have found a way to make the overly recognizable extremely appealing.

Without overstating things, Doc Watson—whose spirit doesn’t seem to be too far removed from these boys’ hearts—comes to mind; you comfortably anticipated how a Doc Watson performance would unfold, but that didn’t stop you from leaning forward to listen. Same here, although the familiarity factor is obviously less apparent.

Strings sings the lead throughout with Julin coming in with complementary tenor. The bulk of the songs were recorded at various venues including small halls, bars, and homes. These songs have the most vigour, with the audiences’ enthusiasm for the duo readily apparent. They play to the crowd rather shamelessly and good-naturedly, extending both “Shady Grove” and “Little Maggie” to six minute-plus jams, guitar and mandolin exchanging the leads while also coming together in impressive displays of companionable accompaniment. The opening pairing of “Beaumont Rag” and “Walk On Boy” showcase Strings considerable flatpicking skills.

A large handful of songs were recorded without second guessing or overdubs in a snowbound farmhouse early this year, and it is on these cuts that the duo are at their strongest. Absent the whooping and hollering of the more exuberant members of their fan club, one can more readily appreciate their talents.

Julin’s title tune is a driving bluegrass instrumental that threatens to go by a bit too quickly were it not for Strings’ judicious tempo adjustment on his break. “Dos Banjos,” Strings’ composition, has a real mountain sound with timeless lyrics that could be lifted from a Hobart Smith side. Bill Monroe’s “Lonesome Moonlight Waltz” is perhaps the album’s most pensive tune, and showcases the duo at the highest level. Strings’ playing, while considerable throughout the 17-track recording, is especially appealing here with Julin serving up delicate notes that are terribly impressive. The Stanley Brothers’ “Sharecropper’s Son” is another highlight.

The closing rendition of “How Mountain Girls Can Love,” recorded on Third Man Records Voice-o-Graph is the only jarring bit on an otherwise terrific collection; given this and Neil Young’s indulgent A Letter Home, let’s hope the fascination with this low-fi method is a quickly passing fancy.

Billy Strings and Don Julin have captured some of their favorite live performances within this collection. Augmented with their isolated farmhouse recordings, the duo have crafted a very pleasing set of acoustic music. I anticipate frequently returning to Fiddle Tune X. Especially recommended for those who appreciate Darrell Scott and Tim O’Brien.