Asheville, NC May 31st 2003
On the front porch swinging chair it’s summertime warm. A strong
breeze blows across the treetops and honeysuckle is in the air. It’s the
last day of May. Knowing northern trees well enough I can see in my mind’s
eye lush new leaves out from Maine to Georgia. Along the entire span of
Appalachia, foliage is out in its full glory.
The first weeks of this month were solid with travel. Up to St. Paul, Minnesota where I shared a concert with Radoslav Lorkovic and Pat Donohue (of Prairie Home Companion fame), to St. Simon Island, Georgia where I played in the old Post Office situated at the base of the island’s lighthouse, to a seaside pub in Beaufort, North Carolina where looking across the sound I watched wild horses brought over by the Spanish 200 years ago, graze. But these last ten days I’m letting things catch up to me with being home, enjoying Asheville, and the routine of office and housework.
It’s festival season now and next week Sue and I go to the Mt. Airy fiddler’s convention. The Mt. Airy festival was my introduction to oldtime music in 1986. It was the first time I listened to Judy Hymen and Jeff Claus, to Rose Sinclair and Tera Nevin, Dave Bass and Jeb Puryear, to Bruce Molsky and Bob Carlin - people that would become part of my musical life throughout the next 17 years. I’ve been playing a lot more fiddle lately, which really owes a lot of thanks to Sue for becoming a solid rhythm guitar player. And, I’ve finally thought to put into words this understanding I’ve had of old-time music being the earliest rock and roll.
African melodic intervals which came with the slaves to America, and that one hundred years later would made up rock and roll, are everywhere in mountain fiddle tunes. They merged so completely with the immigrant Scots-Irish melodies in the 1800’s as to become one music – what we now refer to as old-time. The 2/4 beat of the “boom” and the “chuck” in old-time music creates a rock and roll motion. The silences between each beat create the groove. That groove is the primal essence of life. It is the ebb and flow, inhale and exhale, the yin and yang, and in digital speak, the one and zero. That emphasis on rhythm is also the African influence. So when listening to a fiddle tune such as John Brown’s Dream, or Sandy Boys, you’re basically listening to rock and roll. It’s rock and roll without the drums and electric guitars, but with all the drive and energy.
There was a fork in the road of my life once when I had the choice of getting an electric guitar or a fiddle. I think my rationale for choosing a fiddle was that I didn’t have to haul around the amps. With the fiddle one can travel light, and vagabond more easily. Now that the music is under my skin I am also rewarded with the understanding that I am still playing rock and roll. If you think I’m deluded, that’s ok. Before you make that judgment though, come on out to a fiddle convention and hear a couple thousand fiddles and banjos playing simultaneously. It might be Gary Larson’s version of hell, but it sure sounds like rock and roll heaven to me!
During the next few weeks we’re staying pretty close to home and getting into the groove of summer. Our solstice highlight will be getting up to Andrew McKnight’s “Mountville Festival” in Northern Virginia, which is a great powwow for the songwriting community up there.
I’ll let you know how goes in June’s “Notes”. Meanwhile, keep in touch!
- Dana