Even before I started this journal, I'd always find it nearly impossible to come back home after another festival and try to adequately answer the question from well-meaning friends, "Well, how was it?" Folks who don't have an earnest, active interest in music, either as a player or a serious listener can't possibly comprehend how deeply we can be affected by four days in a setting like Graves Mountain with old friends and new, inspiring musicians both on stage and on the porch, decadent food and drink and a complete disconnect from the cares and responsibilities of home. The transition back is always an effort, but is always so worth it. This 15th year at Graves was no exception.
Emily and I snuck out a day early to get a head start on the reunion and to partake of the bountiful AYCE seafood buffet Wednesday night...a highly-recommended indulgence if I'm able to interest you in making the 2008 16th edition which will fall on May 29-31 next year. The pan-seared scallops were sublime. There was a sufficient number of other early arrivals to get our homemade music going after supper, and right up front, I'd like to thank all the pickers who made the old cabin rafters ring for those four nights:
Danny Hughes, Billy Lux, Billy Budd, Don Grubb, Kenny Young, Randy Cook, Jack Cowardin, Will Perkinson, John Ward, Scott Street, Tim Oksman and my own
E minor. A special debt is owed to our New England pal
Lincoln Meyers who drove all the way from New Hampshire to join us this year and dazzle us once again with his technical and tasteful proficiency as a guitarist. Lincoln's residence pulled in some other amazing newcomers to our fold, guys we hadn't heard before like 20-year-old Marylander
Jordan Tice on guitar and The Biscuit Burners' new five-string phenom
Wes Corbett. It's such a privilege to witness musicians at that level, feeding off each other's energy and creativity just sitting there before your eyes and ears in the living room. An indescribable thrill...thanks to all involved and to those who I inadvertently left out. These organic affairs often went on from early evening to 3 in the morning so the resulting sleep deficit may have impaired the already deficient memory bank a bit.
Oh yeah, and there was a little bluegrass festival going on too, over on the main stage by the refreshingly cool waters of the Rose River, which was of course filled with all manner of humanity, young and old, seeking relief from the hotter-than-mountains-should-be temperatures. I'm not not going to attempt a full review of the festival's impressive lineup this year...just a few highlights. Since we've been on their bandwagon since the beginning a few short years ago, we sat in rapt attention to see what new tricks
The Infamous Stringdusters had up their sleeves since last time. We aren't the only ones out there who regard the Dusters as their new favorite band...they're so gifted in every department...instrumentally and vocally...carefully crafted arrangements and breathtaking endings...and a case full of youthful charm. When bassist
Travis Book broke into his tender rendition of "Poor Boy's Delight," an entranced would-be Molly kicked off her flip-flops and evaded the vise-like security to join the boys on stage and even take a few turns with
Jesse Cobb in an unplanned but fitting interpretation of the song's lyrics. "Do you think it'd be wrong?" The unnamed damsel obviously didn't think so. One of the coolest coincidences ever came with the band chosen to close out Thursday night's show. The second full moon in the month of May was set to rise about the time an excellent East Tennessee group called
Blue Moon Rising was to wrap things up for the night. Only at Graves Mountain.
Friday, it was a treat to catch Western North Carolina's
Steep Canyon Rangers, one of the really solid new bands out there. They still kill me with one of their old favorites, "Feelin' Just A Little Like Earl," a witty nod to The Intimidator and his NASCAR world. And from the same neck of the woods,
The Biscuit Burners opened some ears to their fiery brand of mountain music with their willowy new lead vocalist
Odessa Jorgenson and aforementioned banjo wunderkind
Wesley Corbett. Don't miss 'em at AC&T later this month.
The Grascals proved emphatically that the IBMA Entertainer of the Year award they snagged last fall was no fluke. Those whose tastes run back a little closer to the trunk of the tree were thrilled to mark the return of Graves regulars
IIIrd Tyme Out (who incidentally welcomed back their longtime mandolin man
Wayne Benson after a 3-year hiatus with
John Cowan). Russell Moore demonstrated that it's about time for another IBMA Male Vocalist of the Year win. And for the real deal,
Victor Dowdy and his high-intensity
Bluegrass Brothers blew the lid off the joint to close out Friday night.
I dare say that there were more of bluegrass music's top bands gathered at Graves on Saturday than anywhere else on the planet.
The Mark Newton Band kicked it off early at 10am with some of the excellent material from his new
Carl Jackson-produced "Hillbilly Hemingway" project. Carl would join him later along with the remarkable mandolin prodigy
Sierra Hull, who's pretty much all grown up now and is fronting her own group. The band that's largely responsible for turning me on to this stuff all those years ago,
The Seldom Scene is still going strong thanks to the tenacity and taste of founding member
Ben Eldridge and the "new guys"
Ronnie Simpkins,
Fred Travers and recent
Bluegrass Now cover boys
Dudley Connell and
Lou Reid. The first of two phenomenal families on Saturday's schedule,
The Isaacs were up next with their soaring harmonies and powerful message. If listening to siblings Sonya, Becky and Ben Isaacs lean into "It Is Well" doesn't put a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye, you might check your pulse for signs of life. And what some of us foolishly wrote off as a novelty act at first has now emerged as a stunning testament to what togetherness and hard work can do when properly applied.
Cherryholmes, who won IBMA's top prize, Entertainer of the Year in 2005, the same year they were nominated for Emerging Artist, is an actual nuclear family of six, father
Jere, mother
Sandy Lee, daughters
Cia Leigh and
Molly Kate and sons
B.J. and
Skip. If you didn't know it was real, you'd find it completely implausible that all this talent could dwell in one family and that they could get this good in such a relatively short time. And their elegantly tailored and sequined stagewear demonstrates that these vagabonds take what they do very seriously. It's a joy to behold. They'll be back at Graves Mountain for a concert on Sunday, August 12...definitely worth a drive up the Old Blueridge Turnpike. We got our first chance to check out
Mountain Heart since lead vocalist Steve Gulley split for Grasstowne and were relieved to hear that his able replacement
Josh Shilling is more than up to the task of maintaining the high energy and power one of the music's top ensembles. And with
Adam Steffey and
Barry Abernathy sharing the lead load, Mountain Heart is still beating strongly.
National Heritage Fellow and now doctor of fine arts from King College
Doyle Lawson sported the seriously sporty red Nudie jacket he wore on the New Years Eve broadcast of a Prairie Home Companion and gave his usual vocal workshop rendering impeccably arranged tunes, secular and non-. It's still a thrill for me to hear their signature gospel tune "On The Sea of Life." Nothing's ever topped that one for me. His left-hand man, lead vocalist, guitarist and foil
Jamie Dailey is departing at the end of the year to start a new band with Kentucky Thunder's
Darrin Vincent (Rhonda's brother). Jamie's become so much more than a great singer in
Quicksilver and it's hard to imagine Doyle finding someone who'll be able to handle the light-hearted banter the two have enjoyed on stage together for the better part of ten years. It won't be the same. And what can you say about the current passengers on the Martha White Bluegrass Express that hasn't already been said?
Rhonda Vincent hasn't been voted Female Vocalist of the Year by her peers for seven consecutive years for nothing. Her fans are loving, loyal and legion. And we even got to see her spit on the stage in an effort to dislodge an errant flying insect. Apparently it's all the rage. She said that was a first. So did the bug.
While it wasn't the final set of the evening, the most moving featured Alabama's
Bradley Walker, wheelchair bound with Muscular Dystrophy but with a big baritone voice and a bigger heart. He's captivated a growing list of Nashville's finest players and singers, guesting with them on stage over the years and they're now returning the favor on his highly regarded new CD "Highway of Dreams," another labor of love for Grammy-winning producer
Carl Jackson.
Bradley's all-star band was led by Carl along with
Jim Van Cleve, Adam Steffey, John Wheat,
Fred Travers, Clay Hess and
Ben Isaacs. Also offering backup vocals on selected tunes were
Sonya Isaacs, Rhonda Vincent, Cia Cherryholmes and
Mark Newton. Hearing the result of all that talent gathered to support such a courageous and inspiring young man like Bradley was a profound experience. Standing backstage while Bradley, Carl and Sonya delivered Jackson's "If I Hadn't Reached For The Stars" had me as choked up as I've been in a long, long time. Music is such a direct line to the heart.
Thanks to Jimmy, Rachel, Lucky, Lynn & Trisha Graves, Mark Newton, Sonny Ludlam, Frank Jurney, Gene and Johnnie Daniell, Madison Gibson, Dennis Campbell and all the family, staff and volunteers who make this weekend at summer's edge such a meaningful pleasure every year. Now get some well-earned rest...I insist.
TT
