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Daniel Bachman: River (Three Lobed Recordings 2015)

This review originally appeared on North Country Primitive in December 2015. There's a good reason why Daniel Bachman is feted as a natural successor to fellow Fredericksburg native, Jack Rose, and you can hear it loud and clear on his latest offering, River. It's not just the stellar version of Rose's Levee he includes on the album or even that Rose was his friend and mentor, but simply that his playing has developed the same panache, joy-de-vivre and easy confidence that listeners came to expect from Rose at his best. River is an homage to the Rappahannock River, which passes through Fredericksburg on its way from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Atlantic at Chesapeake Bay. Now, I've never seen the Rappahannock, but I can tell you this: on River, Daniel Bachman summons up such a vivid montage of images, he carries the listener straight to a Rappahannock of the mind. For a concept album, even more so one that is played entirely on solo acoustic guitar, to achieve this is no mean conceit, especially when the concept is built around as visceral a force of nature as two hundred miles of river. The album opener, Won't You Cross Over to That Other Shore, is a 14 minute tour-de-force and quite possibly Bachman's boldest statement yet. There are four distinct segments, the first of which evokes a fast flowing mountain river in full speight - it's choppy and fiesty as it crashes, swirls and eddies through the rapids. The playing is shot through with the ghosts of fiddle tunes soundtracking oldtime hoedowns. The relative calm that descends just past the six minute mark almost comes as a relief - here there is dappled light flashing through the trees lining the riverbanks. The water is lovely - come on in. Nine minutes in and the mood changes again - everything slows right down, the river starts to swell, but just beneath the surface is a clear hint that there is more to come. What is eventually revealed is a beautiful coda describing the slow, stately majesty of a broad sweep of water rolling inexorably towards the sea. The tune, meanwhile, could be taken straight from the hymnody of some half-forgotten Baptist sect. Levee, the aforementioned Jack Rose cover, is all slide guitar and country blues shapes, as much informed by Led Zeppelin as the Piedmont. Unlike that of Page and Co, however, hopefully this levee will hold. The brief Farnham is gentle and resigned, coming over like an elegy to the aging remnants of a tiny rural community seeing out their sunset years a scant few miles from the shores of the Rappahannock. William Moore's Old Country Rock is the album's one concession to straight-up Old, Weird Americana, a gorgeous slice of Piedmont blues that seamlessly sits alongside Bachman's own compositions and makes explicit the rootedness of the album's regional themes. The two part Song for the Setting Sun brings contrasting interpretations of evening coming to the Rappahannock. The first is the more rural and bucolic of the two, while the second conjures up the end of the day in one of the towns sitting along the rivershore, possibly Fredericksburg itself. The first is a small group of friends passing around a bottle as they sit close by the fire they have lit on the riverbank - when the tempo changes half way through to mark the setting of the sun, you can see the embers flying away into the night sky. The second is like a slow dance tune, couples coming together, drifting apart and melting into the darkness. The only real difficulty with River is that after the sheer dizzying ambition of the opening track, the rest of the album seems a little slight in comparison - placing all your cards on the table as an opening gambit is a brave move, but where do you go from there without appearing to retreat? The other tunes are all strong and beautifully presented in their own right, but they cannot hope but be overshadowed by the epic scope of Won't You Cross Over, which is perhaps why the album concludes with a reprise of that number. It's a mere quibble, though: River is truly American Primitive in its intent and delivery - deeply rooted in the American vernacular yet never in thrall to it, with the line between composition and improvisation all but invisible to the naked eye. Bachman has stitched together a patchwork quilt of an album - look carefully at the squares and you can see the entire story of the river depicted in timeless detail.

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ROOTLESS All That’s Left is a Desert (Aural Canyon 2018)

I’m very much enjoying the new wave of post-American Primitive artists doing the rounds at the moment: musicians who are taking the classic steel-strung guitar sounds of Fahey, Basho, Lang et al and using them as a springboard from which to dive into new and varied rivers of sound. Andrew Weathers has been ploughing this furrow for a good few years; Dylan Golden Aycock and M. Mucci are both regular dabblers; Elkhorn have added to the pot by spiralling off into cosmic fingerstyle psychedelia.

To this band of forward voyagers, we must now add Los Angeles based, New York native Jeremy Hurewitz, who releases music as Rootless, with previous albums on Experimedia and Cabin Floor Esoterica. His fourth outing, All That’s Left is a Desert, is his first for Austin, Texas-based Aural Canyon, a label hitherto more associated with modular synth and deep drone - which is, of course, in itself a fine and beauteous thing. Jeremy’s music dovetails neatly with the Aural Canyon aesthetic, not just because of the occasional hazily ambient passage, such as you might find towards the end of his astonishing magnum opus ‘Last Man Standing’, but because this is revelatory, immersive music.

Rootless arguably has a retooled new age vibe: not the wafty, overly-mannered new age muzak of popular cliche, but the real deal: organic mind and body music for deep listening and high times. The touchstone here is very early Windham Hill, a label founded, if we recall, by William Ackerman, himself a rather fine fingerstyle player whose debut, In Search of the Turtle’s Navel, paid sly homage to Fahey. It’s all circles within circles round these parts. The beautiful, insinuating urgency of ‘Self Contained’ is the strongest evidence for this allegation, a bubbling, eddying track that gathers momentum as it races downstream, until it resolves itself in a field recording of waves lapping on shingle.

This is far from mere unreconstructed new age redux, however. The American Primitive thing is there - and nudging more towards Basho than Fahey, particularly on the most straightforward offering, ‘The Third Man’- but when it comes to the guitar lineage, the man Jeremy identifies as a key influence, the mighty Sir Richard Bishop, looms large: not so much in the playing itself, though that is there, but in a shared dedication to a roving, questing, borderless eclecticism, that might take in psychedelic folk, improvised music, Middle Eastern tropes and found sounds - as exemplified by closer ‘Within from Without’, an ominous nocturnal hymn that is transformed into a quietly blissful evocation of early morning.

The other influence at play, particularly deliciously and most pertinently, is the avant jazz inflections of the Chicago school of post-post rock. This flag is nailed to the mast from the off: opener ‘Perimeter’, which, ironically, is an outright refusal to accept any such thing, quickly shifts from a shimmering solo guitar warm-up to full-on Don Cherry-style multikulti organic jazz, with stuttering percussion and keaning flute provided by Kevin Shea and Matt Nelson, who prove themselves to be sympathetic foils to Jeremy throughout.

This is music that exists - but is not trapped - in a spider’s web of influences, all of which have been spun before, but which are now recalibrated with a fresh zeal and a wide-open mind. One of the strengths of the album is that it is almost impossible to second guess where a particular track will go from the clues given in the opening few bars. You can happily file this album alongside Sir Richard Bishop; you even can file it next to your favourite American Primitive heroes, especially those with form for experimentation: but the revelation for me is that you can also file it alongside Jeff Parker, Jamie Branch and Nicole Mitchell. Incredibly, Rootless have made one of the best jazz albums of 2018.

https://auralcanyonmusic.bandcamp.com/album/all-thats-left-is-a-desert

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Given the insanely prolific rate of Reverb Worship’s output, it feels something of a misnomer to call it a ‘micro label’, but this – RW’s 409th release  and counting – follows the label’s tried and tested formula of batches of 50 CDrs in home-crafted sleeves and with minimal promotional fanfare, so micro-label it is.

Psychedelic American primitivists Elkhorn, a duo of Jesse Sheppard on acoustic and Drew Gardner on electric guitars, have a amassed a small but perfectly formed catalogue in the past couple of years, with excellent releases on Beyond Beyond is Beyond, Debacle and Eiderdown Records. It is the most recent of these, Lionfish, that forms the basis for this set of live recordings. Allegedly created under the influence of a psychoactive substance derived from venom extracted from the spines of the titular beastie, the release comprises of two hallucinatory, semi-improvised long form pieces, the second of which, Fish, is presented in seven versions on this new live album.

This is a concept that could have gone horribly wrong, but thanks to the writing and playing skills and the questing sense of adventure central to Elkhorn’s approach, and to their generosity in sharing the stage with their friends and fellow travellers, it actually goes wonderfully right. You could simply slap on the headphones, lie back and treat the album as one long, blissed-out ocean of drift - and it’s certainly both rewarding and perfectly alright to do so, but there’s far more to Live Fish than that. The album works as a suite, with the midway point, a duo recording from the Spotty Dog, as an aural reference point, around which each previous or subsequent version acts as a distinct and self-contained variation on the core theme.

The immediate standout track for me is the Rhizome DC version featuring Ian McColm and Nat Scheible, evidence that the sympathetic addition of quality drumming gives Jesse and Drew’s music a dimensional lift we didn’t even know it needed. Evidence too, that by the next Elkhorn album, they must a have at least one semi-permanent percussionist working with them. By the 15 minute mark, they are channelling the spirit of a stripped down early Funkadelic, grooving on a slow burning jam.

The other track that makes this an essential purchase is the Philadelphia Record Exchange version, featuring the mighty Wet Tuna, freak folk veterans Pat Gubler and Matt Valentine. If anyone is forging a parallel path to Elkhorn, it is Wet Tuna, and this version of Fish is a deeply satisfying four-way meeting of minds. It could have got messy, but these are people with a mastery of low key, understated psychedelia, who strive to compliment not dominate.

Highlighting these two final tracks is not in any way to belittle or denigrate what comes before or the other artists contributing - Turner Williams, Nick Millevoi and Willie Lane. The bar is set high from the outset - it’s testament to Elkhorn that the album keeps on giving right to the end - there’s no tailing off here, no atrophy by repetition. In fact a special shout should go out to Davis Salisbury, who joins the duo for the Charlottesville track, available, due to space constraints, only as a bonus track on the download version: this makes a fitting coda to the album as a whole, so if you get the CDr, make sure to track it down.

http://www.reverbworship.com

https://elkhorn.bandcamp.com/album/live-fish

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Rob Noyes live at Blue Bag. Wonderful, visceral stuff.

[mythandritual]

“Drones are Sacred and Primal.” An Interview With Sarah Louise

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 16th May 2015

We recently caught up with Ashville-based guitarist Sarah Louise Henson, whose Scissor Tail Editions cassette, Field Guide, was released earlier this year and has been has been a frequent visitor to the North Country Primitive stereo. Field Guide is an album steeped in the physical landscape and musical heritage of North Carolina: deeply grounded in a tangible sense of place and with roots in the traditions of that state, yet at the same time, constantly playing with the parameters of whatever this might mean and delivered with an almost magical lightness of touch. If you haven't already picked up a copy of the album, we would urge you to get over to the Scissor Tail Bandcamp page and snag one now...

How are you feeling about the overwhelmingly positive reaction to Field Guide?

To feel like I was true to myself and have people understand and be emotionally impacted by it means the world. It’s deeply satisfying and grounding. I am so grateful. I’m happy to say that I’m in the midst of one of the most musically productive periods of my life so far, and I owe at least part of that to the sense of community I have gained from the reception to Field Guide.

Can you tell us a bit about your musical journey? Did you always want to play solo acoustic guitar or have you arrived at it by way of various other twists and turns?

I grew up singing in choir and could be caught experimenting with my voice while working in my fairy garden as a kid. My first CDs were The Firebird by Stravinsky and The Music of the Mbutu Pygmies of the Ituri Rainforest, so it’s safe to say I was born a musical novelty-seeker. I was also a bit of a trouble-maker and I instantly connected music with emotions. It’s good medicine. I took piano very briefly as a kid but quit because I thought Swans on the Lake was dull and wanted to play Satie instead. When I was in middle school, a woman gave me a guitar. For some reason, with guitar I was very naturally motivated – each little milestone I made was a pleasure and I was able to find ways to continually challenge myself. In high-school, I mostly worked up to learning my favorite pre-war blues songs and that’s also when my mom gave me my first John Fahey album (thanks mom!).

What’s the balance between composition and improvisation in your music?

Looking back on it, every track on Field Guide has an element of improvisation. The first piece I wrote for the album was the title track, and it came as a result of jamming with my partner on drums with my relatively new 12-string. Playing with him really loosened me up and helped give it more flow. So that was borne out of improvisation, but over a long period of time and the lyrical beginning part is improvised. I think it’s probably the best blend of improvised and more determined parts on the album. Late Summer Seed Collection and Dog Improv were just in-the-moment improvisations that I didn’t take seriously until I listened back. Parts of me are impulsive and raw, but I am also a methodical, detail-oriented person and reel myself in more than I maybe ought to. As I grow into myself, I am getting better at allowing the more expressive parts through. Accepting those raw improvisations was an important step in that direction for me. Pieces like Waterways were only partly composed when I recorded them, so improvisation fleshed them out.  I also improvised the solo at the end of The Day is Past and Gone (Variations). So there’s improvisation functioning on different levels on the album. I’m about 2/3rds of my way through writing my new album and none of those are in-the-moment improvisations yet, but they have come together pretty quickly, which I think is a result of being more and more comfortable with my musical language and definitely a result of hours logged improvising. In general, my pieces are a mix of melody lines and chords I hear in my head that are reactions to my tunings or other chords I come across while playing. I definitely think of myself as one player in all of this – the others being my guitar and tunings.

What have been your main influences, musical or otherwise?

Connecting with nature is the biggest influence on my life and my music. I know most of the names and uses of plants around here and greet them like old friends. This time of year, my soundscape is filled with delights like birdsong, creeks, wind in leaves, singing frogs and insects. I listen to all kinds of music. For me, that’s key. I believe that whatever I listen to will make its way into my compositions eventually, so by listening to all kinds of music, I’ve been able to find my own sound. For that same reason, I tend to avoid listening to much contemporary solo guitar. My tunings are also an enormous influence. I have never written any instrumentals in a tuning that wasn’t of my own devising, and I’m really proud of that. It allows me to work entirely in my own world.

To these ears, there’s quite a leap between Wildwood Hours and Field Guide. Do these albums represent two ongoing aspects of your musical persona or do you see a more linear progression from one to the other?

I think there is a leap between the two, but it wasn’t necessarily linear. When I first moved back to North Carolina, I put a lot of pressure on myself to write music, which naturally produced the opposite effect. It didn’t take long for me to realise that simply living a good life here was more important to me than anything, so I actually hardly touched my guitar for a couple of years. During that time some of my constant companions were old hymns and ballads. I’ve spent over a decade now digging deep into American music and it really is endless. It’s so diverse and surprising. The a capella songs on Wildwood Hours are some of what I call my “gem” songs. I have maybe 20 or so that I’ve learned from various field and early studio recordings, that just knock me to my knees. I would love to find a meaningful way to record all of those one day as a way to share these magical, half-buried soul-treasures. I think that the instrumentals on Wildwood Hours are more perhaps rigid than those on Field Guide, largely due to the absence of improvisation, but I’m still fond of many of them. Composing for 6-string guitar is also quite different from 12-string. I have found so much inspiration in the different kinds of picking patterns that a 12-string suggests. There are more possibilities there, so I think my newer work has more variation in those patterns and even time signatures.

I know you’ve explained in other interviews that you made a conscious decision to leave the vocal tracks that were on the early version of Field Guide off the album when Scissor Tail released it, but in the longer term are we likely to hear more of your singing?

In some ways I’m really sad they weren’t included, but I do think in the end it was important to fit within the Scissor Tail aesthetic. I would love to find a home for those vocal outtakes someday, because they encapsulate a lot of ideas I was working on at the time. Because I am so inspired by the landscape around me, it naturally takes the form of words some of the time. I love making connections and fitting things together, so I like the idea of combining those worlds more someday, which in some ways would be picking up the thread where Barely Night and Starfields from Wildwood Hours left off. I have written a few songs with vocals recently that I perform, depending on the bill, but because I don’t have a conception of what a full-length with vocals would look like yet, I’m sitting on them. I feel like I want to take my time with everything I put out to make sure it’s as fully realised as it can be. Because I’m feeling so alive to guitar now, I am also very conscious of not spreading myself too thin.  I don’t want to put something out just for the sake of having more releases. There is a special magic in instrumental music that I am nowhere close to done with, and I want to honour that completely in myself. However, I think one reason why I’ve been able to make music that excites me is because I have kept an open mind. Anything could happen!

Are there any plans to release a vinyl or CD version of Field Guide? Or a second edition of the cassette?

Dylan and I discussed the possibility of another run, but ultimately we decided it was important to keep it limited edition since that is how it was marketed. I would love to see a vinyl version one day! I recently made some CD-Rs for upcoming shows that I think are quite lovely. I handmade each one, so I’m hoping that some of the folks who missed out on the tape will enjoy getting one of those.

It’s hard to imagine Field Guide being made by a player living in a big city – it’s a very rural album - pastoral yet earthy. Do you have a sense that your home environment in North Carolina seeps into your composition and playing? (I have a mental picture of you playing on the porch of a ramshackle house at the end of an unmade road way up in the hills – don’t tell me you have a modern downtown apartment!)

Yeah, you pretty much nailed it!  I live up a gravel road in a house that is humble, but not dilapidated, with a wrap-around porch that is surrounded by acres and acres of forest.  As soon as I got back from my string of shows in NYC, our water pressure was shot. We headed up to the spring box to see what was wrong and a Blue Ridge spring salamander had wedged its tail into the pipe. It hit me then just how different my life is from most people. But it’s the only life for me. The pace of rural life suits me and my bond with nature is the foundation of my outlook on life. It is so powerful for me. Since incorporating the gestalt of landscape into my music isn’t a conscious choice, it seems like magic that my surroundings seep in. It’s less an act of translation than the result of a familiarity of spirits, I think. It feels so good to be able to share my love of nature with people through what I make. If I can take people there, I feel like I’m creating something worthwhile. I’m also hugely indebted to two of my neighbours who adopted me right away when I moved to the road. They always seem to have something exciting up their sleeves to share with me, like taking me wild turkey hunting before the sun if fully up, carefully harvesting ginseng - or “sang” as it’s known around here - and up ridges to abandoned mica mines and an old Native American hunting camp. They taught me how to plant by the signs and how to make “leather britches,” a dish made from dried beans, hull and all. We even salt-cured half of a hog and repaired a moonshine cask. A few of these traditions are pretty much died out around here so it was a real gift that they wanted to share them with me. Their friendship continues to enrich my life and provided me with meaningful company when I had just done this crazy thing of moving up a gravel road by myself.

North Carolina has always been home to a wealth of American folk music, both religious and secular. Do you feel any connection to those traditions? Did you hear much traditional music growing up? I imagine I can hear echoes of it in your music, but is that something you consciously incorporate, or has it just sort of seeped in through the ether?

Two of my favorite banjo players – Dink Roberts and John Snipes – are from North Carolina. The Day is Past and Gone (Variations) and Home Over Yonder off of Field Guide were the results of consciously trying to incorporate old hymns into my guitar music, one as sung by Jean Ritchie and the other by Frankie Duff. I even developed the tunings those are in with those particular hymns in mind. I was - and still am - particularly preoccupied with the frequent presence of drone in Appalachian music, which is a characteristic found in nature-based music around the world. I think drones are sacred and primal and those modal melodies resonate very deeply in me. I think there is a romantic idea that there is still this kind of music being played here, but that is sadly not the case. There is a somewhat strong bluegrass scene still and I know of several older men who flat-pick, but it’s mostly younger transplants who play older styles. I think some of those younger players are starting to dig even deeper. It used to be way more common to encounter mostly clawhammer - the style I play - or Scruggs-style banjo, but now it’s not uncommon to hear more obscure and idiosyncratic two-finger styles. That’s exciting to me. And of course the landscape is still here, so I feel connected with older styles that developed alongside the same nature I live in.  

I’ve no idea whether this is something you give much thought to, but it seems to me that in the American Primitive/guitar soli scene, the vast majority of players are men. Are you particularly conscious of being one of very few women players out there? Do you have any perspectives on this?

To be honest, I feel nervous to answer this question, because I don’t want to distract from the music. I think it’s true that there are many fields in which women deserve equal footing and empowerment that they’re not necessarily getting. More importantly, there are many wonderful female guitar players out there working in different idioms. Some of my favorites are Mary Halvorson, Ava Mendoza, and pedal steel experimenter Susan Alcorn. I imagine most of your readers are already familiar with tone-master Marisa Anderson. Check them out!

Do you see yourself primarily as a solo performer, or can you see yourself collaborating with other musicians or working as part of a group in future? You have some excellent musicians working out of your area – Shane Parish, Wes Tirey and Tashi Dorji spring to mind. Are you all quite supportive of each other’s music?

I have been floored by the amount of support in the Asheville music community. I feel very lucky being able to say that some of the most innovative guitarists - and nicest! - are from Asheville. Shane, Wes and I had a joint tape-release party a few months back at Harvest Records, and it seemed like the whole community showed up to support us. Collaborating is definitely in my scope. It’s hard to say what might lead to recording, but it’s fun and a great way to get new perspectives. Speaking of collaborations, Wes has been performing with a band lately. Haven’t gotten a chance to hear it yet, but I think that will be a really exciting transition for him.

What are you listening to at the moment? Any recommendations, old or new?

Oh gosh, so much! I have to start with Appa by Tashi Dorji, since I just got it this week. It seems to embody entire universes, while still managing to suggest little scenes filled with elegant detail. It is simultaneously beautiful and heart-wrenching, seemingly full of memories while remaining fiercely in the present. Buy this record! Luciano Cilio is a super underrated guitar player and composer who never saw recognition in his short lifetime - his music sounds like 20th century classical composition, but he was self-taught. John Schneider plays Lou Harrison and Harry Partch works on guitar - Harry Partch’s own modified guitar, as well as a microtonal resonator guitar – swoon! Also David Lang, Henry Flynt, Don Cherry, Meredith Monk, Alhaji Bai Konte, Alice Coltrane, Khansahib Abdul Karim Khan, Dogon A.D. by Julius Hemphill, Eastern European vocal music, Sei Note in Logica by Roberto Cacciapaglia, Ballad of the Lights by Arthur Russell and Allen Ginsberg, Indonesian Guitar, a compilation from Folkways, Boneset by Diane Cluck, Piedmont Apocrypha by Horseback, Clear Moon by Mount Eerie and Sail to Sail by Fred Frith. I loved Son of the Black Peace by Dean McPhee – his follow-up album is coming out really soon. My friend Isaac performs as Moses Nesh, and I think his album The Lovely Ohio would have a lot of mass appeal if it could get out there. He’s also a 78s collector and an expert on pre-war blues. People drawn to this site would most definitely dig it! My friend Emmalee Hunnicutt makes mystical, soulful cello music that the world needs. She also collaborates with Shane Parish and bassist Frank Meadows – they’re calling themselves Library of Babble and they recently recorded material for an LP on Blue Tapes that I know will be amazing!

What are you planning on doing next? Is there another album in the making?

I’ve agreed to do an LP for an American label that I’m really excited about. I think that’s all I can say for now!

Is there anything I should have asked but didn’t?

Don’t think so. Thanks for the great questions!

Thank you for your time, Sarah.

Thanks, I’m happy to share!  

[mythandritual]

“Some Songs Need Words, Some Don’t.” An Interview With Wes Tirey

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 5th April 2015

It's not all about fingerstyle guitar here at North Country Primitive. We have a massive soft spot for a human voice - the more human the better - wrapped around a well crafted song; even more so when the singer tips a respectful, but far from obsequious, hat in the general direction of established folk tropes and traditions. Wes Tirey is quite simply one of the best songwriters we've come across in a long while: his music evokes the spectral presence of the Old, Weird America,  filtered through the prism of the more wayward of the folk troubadours of the early 60s. This is not to say his music is merely an exercise in nostalgia for the ghosts of folk past - Wes is a modern day fellow traveller rather than any kind of pastiche artist. And did we happen to mention that he's also a rather excellent fingerstyle guitarist? Our thanks to Wes for taking the time to answer our questions.

Can you tell me about the journey that has taken you to where you are now as a singer and guitarist, both in terms of your own musical history and your influences?

These kind of questions are kind of hard to answer, because I think the influences that lead to doing something creative aren’t always creative ones. The musical stuff is obvious. I think I owe more to the Lone Ranger, Daniel Boone, and Davy Crockett being my heroes when I was a kid than discovering Bob Dylan and John Fahey. Playing baseball was influential. My mom reading to me and my sister was influential. Going to church with my Grandma was influential. Those are the kind of things that shape your conscience long before you start writing songs. For me, without them there’d be no songs.

I’ve been finding your lyrics a real joy to listen to. You seem to revel in using slightly archaic words and phrases – you also appear at times to make quite free use of the archetypal language and themes of folksong. If I’m not completely wide of the mark, is this a conscious approach on your part or is it simply how your songwriting turns out?

Thank you. I think it’s a little bit of both, really. Old Ohio Blues is based on the old folk song East Virginia Blues ––with some verses being lifted from it. But I’ve also been obsessed with that particular song for a long time now, and wouldn’t use words or images from it without being deliberate about it.

Other times, I think it’s just how it turns out. I like to be very deliberate about the words I use, but I feel like I’m not always in control––meaning, some things just eventually reveal themselves in a song after being buried in my mind for a while. At least I think that’s how it happens. It’s all kind of a mystery.

I think when I was younger that I’d be much quicker to answer a question about songwriting, because I thought I knew exactly what I was talking about––or could be precise about it all. I don’t think that’s the case anymore.

I wonder if there's a particularly Southern sensibility to your language and themes? I'm sure I can hear echoes of the great Southern Gothic authors and their present day followers in your writing. Do you consider yourself as being influenced by this literary lineage? Or as a listener, am I simply been seduced by the fact that you appear to be a Southerner singing in his own voice and using the everyday language of the South?

To be clear, I’m not actually from the South. I was born and raised in Ohio and moved to Black Mountain, North Carolina, about four years ago. That said, both of my blood lines run to Kentucky and I do feel a natural affinity towards the South. I feel comfortable here.

Flannery O’Connor was a rather revelatory discovery, and I read her work to this day, still. I love the Southern Gothic aesthetic as a whole, but I’m not sure how exact the influence is. I don’t exactly recall those influences or find myself in the middle of engaging with them when I’m working on a song. I’m taken more by the imagery than the words, I’d say.

A song like Blue Ridge Mountain Blues could almost come straight out of the repertoire of a string band from the Old, Weird America, albeit filtered through the sensibilities of, say, the New Lost City Ramblers. Do you feel any great affinity with the American folk tradition? Is something like the Harry Smith Anthology any kind of touchstone for you?

I think the Harry Smith Anthology is the Alpha and Omega of American music, as far as I’m concerned. Other than Geeshie Wiley’s Last Kind Words Blues and the music of John Fahey, I’m not sure I’ve had a more rattling musical discovery.

As far as feeling an affinity with the tradition itself, I’m not sure. I think that it’s just the music that I internalise the most. It’s the stuff that sticks with me. I listen to a lot of other music other than stuff from the folk tradition––but I experience it much differently. I love Bitches Brew––but I don’t internalise it like I do with the music of someone like Roscoe Holcomb, for example.

I’m also picking up a certain sort of folk revival vibe from some of your songs. The Final Resting Place, for example, could have come from the pen of one of the better early 60s folk troubadours. Specifically, I’m put in mind of the more untamed, ploughing-their-own-furrow side of that movement – artists like Michael Hurley or The Holy Modal Rounders. Do you see these artists as part of your own musical hinterland?

Well, thank you for the kind words. I’d never dare put my name next to Michael Hurley’s!

I love Hurley’s songs. I listened to a lot of his music when I was writing O, Annihilator. I think there are songwriters that I feel a natural affinity towards, though––their aesthetic environment is just comfortable to be in. As far as being part of a movement, I don’t really have any concern for that. As soon as you start thinking about those things you’re distracted from writing songs.

There seems to be a sly humour in some of the songs, too. Brand New Cadillac, quite apart from borrowing the title of the rockabilly classic, puts me in mind of the sort of scenario Bill Callaghan might have set up when he was writing songs like Dress Sexy at my Funeral. Is there a deliberate twinkle in your eye when you’re writing songs like these, or is it more of an accidental humour?

Thank you for the kind words, again. Bill Callahan is a big hero of mine. I’ve been listening to his music all day today, actually. That’s interesting that you found humour in that song––might have something to do with the six-pack I bought before recording that night.

I can’t say there’s a deliberate twinkle in my eye when writing. For me, my songs are more or less all concerned with concepts that I take seriously. But I’m not always such a serious person. Most nights I’m at my apartment with my cat watching Bob’s Burgers––and I’m brutal when it comes to Cards Against Humanity.

I can’t help but be reminded of early Vic Chesnutt on some of your songs. Was he an influence on you? Or am I being blindsided by the occasionally similar phrasing?

Thank you––that’s a high compliment. I’m not very familiar with Vic Chesnutt’s music––but what I’ve heard has blown my mind. I need to explore his stuff more.

You seem to take a somewhat different approach to each release: to these ears, I Stood Among Trees seems at least in part to reference the 60s folk troubadours; O, Annihilator resonates with the sounds of the Old, Weird America; Home Recordings takes the American Primitive approach as a springboard for something more exploratory. Meanwhile some of the arrangements and settings on the new cassette, Journeyer / Forward, Melancholy Dream, appear to be more abstract and understated. Do you take a conscious decision to take a different approach with each album? And is it a deliberate decision to largely keep your song-based and your American Primitive-influenced material separate? Do you see yourself primarily as a songwriter who also releases some solo guitar stuff or vice-versa? Or are they simply two sides of who you are as a musician?

I don’t really have an “I’ve down this, now I need to do that” approach when it comes to writing. I think of things in terms of their whole aesthetic and how it relates to the concepts that the songs deal with.

As for the songwriter/solo guitar question, I think it’s more of the latter. Some songs need words, some don’t.

Your releases tend to be fairly lo-fi, stripped down affairs. Is this about aesthetics or necessity? If you were offered the chance to go into a top flight studio with a bunch of musicians, a gospel choir and a string section, would you go for it?

Man, I’d love to record with a gospel choir! I’d be so intimidated, though. The lo-fi approach is both an aesthetic and pragmatic decision. I like the sound of it all, and it’s always free to record at home. It’s also just more comfortable for me––I’m not on a clock and can be uninhibited. That said, I’m not opposed to recording in a studio. When I was younger and had a band, we recorded in some great studios, and I recorded I Stood Among Trees at an amazing studio in Asheville. Recording at a studio has its virtues, and recording at home has its virtues, too. I hope to do my next full-length in a studio with a bunch of great Asheville musicians.

There seems to be a pretty healthy outpouring of my kind of music in your part of North Carolina: people like Shane Parish, Tashi Dorji and Sarah Louise are also doing interesting things. Is there any kind of scene – shared concert bills, collaborations, mutual support, encouragement and friendship? Or are you all beavering away in your own silos?  

Shane, Tashi, and Sarah are all exceptional musicians. I envy their talent so much and encourage everyone to explore their music. I’ve had the pleasure of sharing the stage with all three of them, and seeing them play live is nothing short of a beautiful experience.

What are you listening to at the moment? Any recommendations, old or new?

I snagged the new Jessica Pratt tape recently and think it’s beautiful. I also got the recent Loren Connors reissue of Airs and the LP Zachary Hay released under the name Green Glass. There’s a great cassette label out of the UK called Death Is Not The End Records, and I ordered some of their tapes––gospel/blues/spirituals stuff.

Recommendations: listen to Maharadja Sweets––tell your mother and father, sister and brother, neighbours, dogs and cats, all the fish in the sea. He’s the best. My pal Andrew Weathers makes beautiful music. Ohioan is my buddy Ryne Warner’s project, and it’s epic stuff. Scissor Tail Editions is my favorite label––Sarah’s new tape is gorgeous and the Scott Tuma reissue is so beautiful I can barely describe it.

What’s next for you? Do you have any future projects in the pipeline?

I got a lot coming up, actually. Some sound artists from Italy approached me about adding some improv bits to their new works. I’ll be adding some guitar work to a cool project that Maharadja Sweets is working on. I’m working on a short piece for a guitar compilation that Cabin Floor Esoterica will be releasing this summer. And this September I’m doing a weeklong residency at an artist retreat where I’ll start writing my next full-length album.

Is there anything I should have asked you but didn’t?

These questions were great! It’s been a pleasure.

[mythandritual]

"Solo Acoustic Guitar Stands Outside of Time." An Interview With Dylan Golden Aycock

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 5th May 2015

Scissor Tail Editions of Tulsa Oklahoma is one of the most consistently interesting record labels around at the moment, with a series of excellent releases from amongst others, Sarah Louise, Scott Tuma, Nick Castell and, of course, the label's founder and head honcho, Dylan Golden Aycock. His tune, Red Bud Valley, is featured on Tompkins Square's recently released seventh volume of the ever-dependable Imaginational Anthems series and he continues to release new work in his various guises at an almost unreasonably prolific rate. North Country Primitive caught up with Dylan as he puts the finishing touches on the forthcoming solo follow up to Rise & Shine and as Scissor Tail gears up to put out new albums by Dibson T. Hoffweiler and Chuck Johnson.

Can you tell me a bit about your musical journey? What has brought you to a place where playing solo acoustic guitar seemed like a good idea? Living in Oklahoma as a kid in the pre-internet 90s, the only access to music I had was the radio and skate videos. I got really into hip hop through skate videos and also discovered groups like Tortoise, which I probably never would have encountered any other way. My dad and brother both play folk music and I guess hip hop was an involuntary rebellion on my part. My first instrument I saved up for was a turntable set up - I got way into turntablism and this competitive turntable stuff called beat juggling. It's still probably the instrument I'm most comfortable on, but I haven't turned them on in years. I picked up the guitar pretty late in the game, about the age of 24. Five years ago I bought my first guitar, a 12-string Alvarez. I got really obsessed with it, just as I did with turntablism and electronic music in my teens and early 20s. At that time I was just yearning for something simple and satisfying that I could play if the power grid ever went out. I also didn't like the mental image of a 60-plus year old me behind a set of turntables. Hip hop and beat music is a young man's game, and I didn't really like keeping up with all the new shit coming out. If you want to be a professional DJ you have to be up on all the new stuff and I just really didn't care about all that. I also quit around the time that CD turntables became the new standard and vinyl DJing was on its way out. What would you say are your main influences, musically or otherwise? Do you see yourself as part of the American Primitive tradition of solo guitar? I was really influenced by my older brother Jesse and some of the music he was listening to in his room when we lived together after high school. He turned me onto Bill Frisell and Daniel Lanois, which was a big influence on my interest in pedal steel guitar. My dad introduced me to some of my other favorite artists - Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, The Innocence Mission... I can't downplay the role that discovering Peter Walker, Suni McGrath and Robbie Basho played in me taking the guitar seriously. At that time in my life it really spoke to me and was an acceptable way for a white kid from Oklahoma to sort of lean into Eastern Raga music. As far as the American Primitive thing goes, everyone wants to shun the title, because no one wants to be pigeonholed and I understand that, but there's no avoiding it if you play instrumental acoustic guitar in open tunings, unless you're Michael Hedges. You can't be upset if listeners are drawing comparisons to Fahey, Basho and so on. I say just accept it and further the genre: it's not like there's a ton of people carrying the torch anyways. Norberto Lobo is one of my favorite guys playing acoustic guitar, and he's one of the hardest to label. Same with Blackshaw, They'd both be a stretch to label as American Primitive. I think some of the stuff I record could definitely fit in that genre, but I also get pretty bored hearing just acoustic guitar compositions - a lot of it starts to blend together. Most of my recordings employ some kind of accompanying instrumentation, whether it be pedal steel, synth or some kind of bowed classical instruments. I'll even take cues from my days making electronic music or hip hop and add samples to some of the guitar stuff. You seem to have been involved in about half-a-dozen different groups and collaborations, including Talk West who appear to have released about four albums in the past year or so! Do you see yourself as a collaborator who also makes solo recordings, vice-versa or neither of the above? Do the different approaches satisfy different musical urges for you or are they all part of a continuum? Living in Tulsa, there's a limited number of collaborators that I can record with live who are into the same stuff as me. I'm definitely really happy with the recordings I've made here with friends, but I find myself recording alone way more often than in group setting. The Talk West project is a solo project, and I have a hard time calling those recorded moments songs, since such little thought goes into each one. It's a real thoughtless and meditative project for me. It's also nice to hide behind an alias where anything goes. Everything I've released as Talk West have been improvised, usually recorded to tape as one track, one take. I'll sometimes edit or add sounds in post if I really like the initial recording, but the base is always improvisation. It's definitely the most enjoyable project for me. Anything involving improvisation is going to be really satisfying. I did a couple of albums with Brad Rose that were really fun (Angel Food, Mohawk Park) - sort of drone projects - and I've contributed pedal steel to a handful of projects over the years (Mar, Robin Allender, M. Mucci). There's some plans to collaborate on an album with James Toth of Wooden Wand and I'm doing a split with Tashi Dorji later this year that I'm really excited about. You released Rise & Shine on Scissor Tail, but your subsequent solo albums have been released by different labels.  Is this part of a conscious effort to separate yourself as a musician from yourself as a label owner? Or are you more prolific than you can afford to be?  Or do you just like spreading it around a bit? I like to spread it around. It's validating to release on other labels with artists you respect and helps build connections and sense of community. Rise & Shine was a really personal album, recorded over a couple of weeks while my dad was in the hospital for a heart attack he had on Valentines Day 2011.The initial release was lathe cut on the 14 chest X-Rays from the surgery. The personal aspect of that album was my reasoning for self releasing. I never wanted Scissor Tail to become a vanity label, though I don't judge anyone who self-releases on their own imprint, since in a lot of circumstances it's the only way to make any money on an album unless you tour a lot or release on larger labels like Drag City or Thrill Jockey, who press in larger quantities and split the the profits generously with the artists. One of my favorite artists is a guy named Zach Hay, who has self released three LPs, each one under a different name. He turned me down on releasing his stuff and I also tried to see if he had any interest in being on that Imaginational Anthems compilation this year and he turned that down as well. I highly recommend checking out his albums: Bronze Horse, The Dove Azima, and Green Glass, which came out last year and I got to do the album artwork for the release. I really respect his artistic integrity and vision for each release, which is apparent on each album.

What made you decide to start your own label? Was it originally simply as a vehicle for your own releases or had you always intended to release stuff by other artists? The label started as a way to release various recordings my friends were making that they were sitting on or didn't think were good enough to share. In Tulsa, I feel like a lot of the musicians in town hold themselves up to really high standards. Most the musicians around here take influence from the rock gods like Clapton and JJ Cale and overlook or just don't know about all the folks who are making careers doing more original or experimental music. It's a consequence of growing up cut off from any kind of underground scene and living in the radio bubble. My brother and some of our friends growing up would mess around with instruments and electronics for fun and the recordings would just end up buried on a hard drive somewhere. I felt they were really good and wanted to share them with people, so that was the initial motivation for starting the label. I have to give credit to Brad Rose, who runs Digitalis Recordings, for letting me hang out at his apartment and bug him with questions. Is there any particular label ethos or principle you work to? Not really, I just think labels should be transparent with where their funds go. The cost of production and so on. When it comes to tapes, I run Scissor Tail the same as every other tape label, where 20% of the stock goes to the artist. With vinyl, I've been doing 60/40 split with the artist - 60 to the artist, 40 to the label. I think the indie-industry standard is 50/50 profit split, which is what I've done with a couple of the more recent artists, who were kind enough to suggest that to me. Immune Records has a great ethos - as well as the labels I mentioned earlier, Drag City and Thrill Jockey. Am I right in thinking you proactively seek out the music you want to put out rather than responding to demos? It's about half and half. Most of the tapes I put out came to me as demos, but a few of them were open invitations. The LPs on the label were mostly sought out. The only one that came in as a demo was this new album by Chuck Johnson that should be out in June. What are you looking for in an artist when you're deciding what release? You're building up  an impressive body of  work. Are there any releases you are particularly proud of? I'm interested in music that has a timeless feel, which is why a lot of the releases on Scissor Tail are guitar or drone related. Solo acoustic guitar, in my opinion, stands outside of time to a certain degree. If you were unfamiliar with Fahey, you could hear one of his albums and not know what decade within the last 60 years it was recorded. The same parameters don't necessarily apply to drone music, because it's generally electronic and that sort of limits the time frame when it could have been recorded, but it still has the same effect on the listener because of how minimal drone music tends to be. Gavin Bryars' Sinking of the Titanic sounds as amazing today as it did in 1970 and will sound amazing when the sun burns out. Could you tell us a bit more about the Bruce Langhorne reissue? That release certainly put the label on the map. I just got lucky and wrote to him at the right time and offered him a really good deal. He'd been approached by a few labels to release it over the years, but I think it was just a timing thing or possibly the previous offers weren't to his liking. The attention to packaging and presentation is consistently high, which for me at least, is an important aspect to running a label that puts out physical releases. Could you tell us a bit about your approach to this? Packaging and designing is my favorite part of running a label. If all I was doing were financially backing albums, I would have quit a long time ago. I really enjoy playing a creative role in each release, whether it be designing the artwork, doing the letterpress printing in my garage or seeking out other visual artists that fit the music. It's really satisfying when it all clicks. There's a lot of creative decision making that comes with running a label that keeps me constantly inspired. What's the deal with cassettes? Do you just like the format or is it about cost and convenience for short-run releases? Is there anything consciously retro about using them? I love tapes! Everything about them. I love the nostalgia, the size, the sound, the fact that they make ripping music a pain in the ass. If you don't offer downloads, someone has to spend a lot of time recording a tape to digital, separating the tracks, then bouncing them down and uploading them to the internet. It's a whole process, and I just like the idea of manufacturing rarity, which I know is a bit controversial among the music community, but I'm all about it. Tapes are definitely also about cost: there are so many tapes I would have loved to put out on vinyl, but just didn't have the funds. Also If you've ever been to a festival or music convention, people hand out CDs like business cards. In my opinion, it completely devalues the listening experience, where with tapes and vinyl, you have to sit down and take time to listen to. Can you tell us what you're listening to at the moment? Any hot tips or recommendations? I'm listening to Kurt Vile a lot. I think he's one of the best songwriters around. I also really love this album by Stephen Steinbrink that came out in 2013 called Arranged Waves. I've really been trying to seek out happier, less melancholy music lately. It seems to be hard to find outside of gospel, reggae, and traditional African music. I do listen to a lot of celtic music - Nic Jones, Andy M. Stewart, Dick Gaughan, Andy Irvine, Kevin Burke… I'm also pretty obsessed with anything Madlib puts out and another hip hop producer on Stones Throw, by the name of Knxwledge. Can I be a guitar nerd and ask you what you play and what you like about them? I lucked out three times via Craigslist and was able to acquire a 1949 Gibson LG2 in damn near mint condition for $350. I also play a 1921 Weissenborn Style 1 that I found on Craigslist in Florida. The guy who had it bought a storage unit on auction and there was a guitar inside that he knew very little about and so I snagged it from him for pretty much dirt cheap. My electric is a low end Mexican Tele. My pedal steel was a steal - haha - got it for $800 off a meth head in Tulsa who played in a cover band called Whisky Stills and Mash. It's a 60s double neck Sho-Bud. I'm also fond of those lawsuit Suzuki guitars. What's in store for you next - both in terms of your own music and Scissor Tail? I'm finishing a follow up to my first LP, Rise & Shine. It's been in the works for the last two or three years. I also have those collaborations I mentioned earlier with Wooden Wand and Tashi Dorji. And then a lathe release with a bunch of other guitarists, Daniel Bachman, Tash and some other folks. That'll be out on a really great label called Cabin Floor Esoterica probably later this year. A Talk West tape with Sic Sic out of Berlin in a couple weeks. As far as Scissor Tail goes, there's quite a few things coming out this year. Chuck Johnson's new LP called Blood Moon Boulder, which I've been busy letter pressing all the jackets for this last month. An album by another Oakland based guitarist and friend of Chuck - Dibson T Hoffweiler - that will be out May 7th. There's a handful of tapes about to drop and an LP by Willamette that should be out in the Fall or Winter depending on how quickly we figure out the album art. Lotsa stuff brewin. Anything I should have asked you but didn't? Nope, all bases covered. Thanks!

[mythandritual]

"You Can Hear Someone's World View Through Their Guitar." An Interview with Josh Rosenthal of Tompkins Square Records

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 11th March 2016

Josh Rosenthal's Tompkins Square Records, which has recently celebrated its tenth anniversary, has become somewhat of an institution for music fans, thanks to Josh's consistent championing of American Primitive guitar, the old, weird America and various other must-hear obscurities he has managed to pluck from the ether. Not content with running one of the best record labels on the planet, he is now also an author, and about to go out on tour with various musicians from the wider Tompkins Square family in support of his new book, The Record Store of the Mind. We caught up with him this week and pestered him with a heap of questions - our thanks to Josh for putting up with us.

Congratulations on The Record Store of the Mind – it’s an absorbing and entertaining read. Has this project had a long gestation period? How easily does writing come to you - and is it something you enjoy doing? It certainly comes across that way...

Thanks for the kind words. I don't consider myself a writer. I started the book in November 2014 and finished in May 2015, but a lot of that time was spent procrastinating, working on my label, or getting really down on myself for not writing. I could have done more with the prose, made it more artful. I can't spin yarn like, say, your average MOJO writer. So I decided early on to just tell it straight, just tell the story and don't labour over the prose.

I particularly like how you mix up memoir, pen portraits of musicians, and snippets of crate digger philosophy... was the book crafted and planned this way or was there an element of improvisation - seeing where your muse took you? And is there more writing to follow?

If I write another book, it'd have to be based around a big idea or theme. This one is a collection of essays. As I went on, I realised that there's this undercurrent of sadness and tragedy in most of the stories, so a theme emerged. I guess it's one reflective of life, just in a musical context. We all have things we leave undone, or we feel under-appreciated at times. I wasn't even planning to write about myself, but then some folks close to me convinced me I should do. So you read about six chapters and then you find out something about the guy who's writing this stuff. I intersperse a few chapters about my personal experience, from growing up on Long Island in love with Lou Reed to college radio days to SONY and all the fun things I did there. Threading those chapters in gives the book a lift, I think.

Tell us a bit about the planned book tour. You’ve got a mighty fine selection of musicians joining you on the various dates. I imagine there was no shortage of takers?

I'm really grateful to them all. I selected some folks in each city I'm visiting, and they all are in the Tompkins Square orbit. Folks will see the early guitar heroes like Peter Walker, Max Ochs and Harry Taussig and the youngsters like Diane Cluck, one of my favourite vocalists. You can't read for more than ten minutes. People zone out. So having music rounds out the event and ties back to the whole purpose of my book and my label.

It’s clear from the book that you haven’t lost your excitement about uncovering hidden musical gems. Any recent discoveries that have particularly floated your boat?

I'm working with a couple of guys on a compilation of private press guitar stuff. They are finding the most fascinating and beautiful stuff from decades ago. I've never heard of any of the players. Most are still alive, and they are sending me fantastic photos and stories. I have been listening to a lot of new music now that Spotify is connected to my stereo system! I love Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. Her new one is out soon. I like Charlie Hilton's new album too.

Any thoughts on the vinyl resurgence and the re-emergence of the humble cassette tape?

Vinyl has kept a lot of indie record stores in business, which is a great development. As a label, it's a low margin product, so that's kind of frustrating. If you're not selling it hand over fist, it can be a liability. The model seems to be - make your physical goods, sell them as best you can within the first four months, and then let the digital sphere be your warehouse. I never bought cassettes and have no affinity for them, or the machines that play them.

Turning to Tompkins Square, did your years working for major labels serve as a good apprenticeship for running your own label? Did you have a clear idea of what you wanted the label to look like from the outset or has the direction its taken developed organically over time?

Working for PolyGram as a teenager and then SONY for 15 years straight out of college was formative. I like taking on projects. My interests and the marketplace dictate what I do. I've always felt like the label does me instead of vice versa. For example, the idea of releasing two, three or four disc sets of a particular genre served me well, but now it feels like a very 2009 concept. It doesn't interest me much, and the commercial viability of that has diminished because it seems the appetite for those types of products has diminished.

Working in relatively niche genres in the current music industry climate can’t be the safest or easiest way to make a living. Is there a sense sometimes that you’re flying by the seat of your pants?

We're becoming a two-format industry - streaming and vinyl. The CD is really waning and so is the mp3. The streaming pie is growing but it's modest in terms of income when you compare it to CD or download margins at their height. I don't really pay much mind to the macro aspects of the business. I just try to release quality, sell a few thousand, move on to the next thing, while continuing to goose the catalogue. The business is becoming very much about getting on the right playlists that will drive hundreds of thousands of streams. It's the new payola.

American Primitive and fingerstyle guitar makes up a significant percentage of Tompkins Square releases, going right back to the early days of the label – indeed, it could be said that you’ve played a pivotal role in reviving interest in the genre. Is this a style that is particularly close to your heart? What draws you to it?

Interest in guitar flows in and out of favour. There are only a small number of guitarists I actually like, and a much longer list of guitarists I'm told I'm SUPPOSED to like. Most leave me cold, even if they're technically great. But I respect anyone who plays their instrument well. Certain players like Harry Taussig or Michael Chapman really reach me - their music really gets under my skin and touches my soul. It's hard to describe, but it has something to do with melody and repetition. It's not about technique per se. You can hear someone's world view through their guitar, and you can hear it reflecting your own.

You’ve reintroduced some wonderful lost American Primitive classics to the world – by Mark Fosson, Peter Walker, Don Bikoff, Richard Crandell and so on. How have these reissues come about? Painstaking research? Happy cratedigging accidents? Serendipity? Are there any reissues you’re particularly proud of?

They came about in all different ways. A lot of the time I can't remember how I got turned on to something, or started working with someone. Peter was among the first musicians I hunted down in 2005, and we made his first album in 40 years. I think Mark's cousin told me about his lost tapes in the attic. Bikoff came to me via WFMU. Crandell - I'm not sure, but In The Flower of My Youth is one of the greatest solo guitar albums of all time. I'm proud of all of them !

Are there any ‘ones that got away’ that you particularly regret, where red tape, copyright issues, cost or recalcitrant musicians have prevented a reissue from happening? Any further American Primitive reissues in the pipeline you can tell us about – the supply of lost albums doesn’t seem to be showing signs of drying up yet…

Like I said, this new compilation I'm working on is going to be a revelation. So much fantastic, unknown, unheard private press guitar music. It makes you realise how deep the well actually is. There are things I've wanted to do that didn't materialise. Usually these are due to uncooperative copyright owners or murky provenance in a recording that makes it unfit to release legitimately.

You’ve also released a slew of albums by contemporary guitarists working in the fingerstyle tradition. How do you decide who gets the Tompkins Square treatment?  What are you looking for in a guitarist when you’re deciding who to work with? And what’s the score with the zillions of James Blackshaw albums? Has he got dirt on you!?

It takes a lot for me to sign someone. I feel good about the people I've signed, and most of them have actual careers, insofar as they can go play in any US or European city and people will pay to see them. I hope I've had a hand in that. I did six albums with Blackshaw because he's one of the most gifted composers and guitarist of the past 50 years. He should be scoring films. He really should be a superstar by now, like Philip Glass. I think he's not had the right breaks or the best representation to develop his career to its full potential. But he's still young.

Imaginational Anthems has been a flagship series for Tompkins Square from the beginning. The focus of the series seems to have shifted a couple of times – from the original mixture of old and new recordings to themed releases to releases with outside curators. Has this variation in approach been a means by which to mix it up and keep the series fresh? Are you surprised at the iconic status the series has achieved?

I don't know about iconic. I think the comps have served their purpose, bringing unknowns into the light via the first three volumes and introducing some young players along the way. Cian Nugent was on the cover of volume 3 as a teenager. Daniel Bachman came to my attention on volume 5, which Sam Moss compiled. Sam Moss' new album is featured on NPR just today! Steve Gunn was relatively unknown when he appeared on volume 5. There are lots more examples of that. I like handing over the curation to someone who can turn me on to new players, just as a listener gets turned on. It's been an amazing experience learning about these players. And I'm going to see a number of IA alums play on my book tour : Mike Vallera, Sam Moss, Wes Tirey - and I invited Jordan Norton out in Portland. Never met him or saw him play. He was fantastic. Plays this Frippy stuff.

What’s next for you and Tompkins Square?

I signed a young lady from Ireland. Very excited about her debut album, due in June. I'm reissuing two early 70's records by Bob Brown, both produced by Richie Havens. Beautiful records, barely anyone has heard them.

[mythandritual]

Putting the Prog Rock and Death Metal Back into American Primitive Guitar - An Interview with Jerry Hionis

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 24th February 2016

North Country Primitive is very pleased to finally get round to presenting you with an interview with Jerry Hionis. What with family life, day jobs and all the rest of it, we've been missing each other for the best part of a year. However, it's been well worth the wait, as Jerry shares with us his route into solo acoustic guitar, his musical preoccupations and influences and the relationship between his music and his faith. Not to mention, in the light of last year's excellent (and free to download) Jerry Hionis Plays Genesis set, the new possibilities in the unlikely marriage of American Primitive guitar and classic progressive rock - read on and you'll realise it all makes perfect sense...

Tell us a bit about yourself and the musical journey that took you to a place where you concluded that playing an acoustic guitar on your own was a good idea… Well, since my mom bought me a guitar for my 11th birthday, I have been very active in both guitar playing and music. By the time I was in high school, I started to play in bands – primarily death and technical death metal. But there was always one central problem: the logistics of dealing with three or four other individuals. Many of my projects since that period had involved doing all the instrumental recording by myself and having one of dearest and closest friends lay down vocals. Yet these recordings - prog and doom metal in nature - were limiting because they could never be played live. A friend and I went to see Sunn at the First Unitarian Church - a famous spot for underground shows in Philadelphia - where Jack Rose was opening with a lap steel set. Since we had never of Jack before, we thought it was odd for a lap steel guitar player to be opening for a drone band - of course, it makes a lot of sense given Jack’s musical history. Needless to say, I was blown away . . . but then I easily forgot about the whole experience. While in a hospital waiting room where my wife was getting a minor surgery to her hand, I was reading a local paper eulogising Jack Rose. Other names like John Fahey, Leo Kottke and Robbie Basho were mentioned. From there, I picked up a number of Fahey’s albums and was struck by how one person with one guitar could sound like that. After picking up most of Fahey’s and Basho’s catalog - there used to be a great record store in Old City Philadelphia that actually had an “American Primitive Guitar” section - I ventured into the world of country blues and ragtime players. Much of this time of discovery is widely reflected in my first album, Graveyard Stomps And Funeral Rags. After some time, I became a bit bored with the blues structure and wanted to start experimenting more with the music I listen to on a daily basis: prog and technical death metal. Listening back on my second album, Arrakian Circle Dances, this influence was really starting to take hold. My forthcoming album, American Nasheeds, pushes this direction even further. I am really excited for people to hear it! What have you been up to recently? Procrastinating mostly! Haha! Look, I am also playing and writing music. It is a natural thing for me - I know, that sounds really pretentious, but it is true. After releasing a couple of EPs digitally, I recorded another full length that I plan on releasing in mid-March. All that is really needed is setting up the album art and packaging and then promoting it . . . but I also have a career as an economics professor. That, and my family, tends to take up quite a bit of my time ☺ Let's talk about Jerry Hionis Plays Genesis (which is a rather worryingly good album, by the way). What gives here? And what’s next - Jerry Hionis plays Van Der Graaf Generator? Gong? King Crimson? Are you on a one-man mission to find the missing link between primitive guitar and 70s prog rock? Ha! I love Crimson and Van Der Graaf - although I was dismayed to hear that A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers was recorded in sections - and Peter Hammill’s solo material is on point! I thought about doing a Crimson cover album, but it doesn’t translate as well as one would think. Possibly a Jerry Hionis Plays Yes could be in the future . . . I wouldn’t call it a mission, but it seems to be a thread amongst American Primitive players to link the techniques of the country blues players to different musical themes. Fahey loved classical movements; Basho was intrigued by eastern melodies and themes; Rose had an odd background of southern gospel to weird drone music. I have heard others that like to introduce European folk melodies to sea shanties to American punk. Why not prog? In regards to Jerry Hionis Plays Genesis, thank you for the kind words – that album means a lot to me. So much so that I gave it away for free! I just want people to hear it – especially the guys in Genesis! If I could get Steve Hackett to take a couple spins of it, that would be just awesome. Dealing with all the instrumentation and layering on old school Genesis was not easy. It took quite a bit of time to create solo versions of Cinema Show and The Musical Box, but I felt it was well worth it. Look, I really don’t sit around listening to the classic American Primitive players anymore. This isn’t an insult to them or an act of hipster-superiority. It is just that I have listened to Fahey, Rose and Basho so much that I do not get the same joy out them . . . especially once you learn how to play the sounds that used to hit you hard because of the technical mystery. Most days, my phone is playing Genesis, Crimson, Fates Warning, Theory In Practice, Death, Marillion, IQ, Yes and so on. If I could get a band together - and carve out the time - I would be all about creating a prog band. That just isn’t in the cards at the moment – only God knows what the future holds. What have been your key influences, musical or otherwise? Are there other current guitarists you feel a particular affinity towards? When I get asked this question, I have to separate influences in regards to technique and composition. The technique part is simple: Fahey. Basho. Rose. There are other ragtime folks like Gary Davis, Willie Johnson, Robert Johnson and Son House that have definitely made an impact on my playing. Composition-wise, it is all over the place. Of course, bands like King Crimson, Genesis, Yes, Rush, Marillion, Dream Theater, Psychotic Waltz, Camel, Hawkwind, Fates Warning, ELP, Ritual, Queensryche and many others are constantly working themselves in to my song writing. For example, the interlude section of By The Cover Of Night is take almost directly from The Seven Tongues Of God by Nevermore – my attempt at an Easter-Egg. My songs are also heavily inspired by the Denver Sound scene; bands like Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, Sixteen Horsepower, Munly and Reverend Glasseye. The use of the bookending concertina tracks on Arrakian Circle Dances was a direct homage to David Eugene Edwards specifically. Quite a few of the musicians I’ve talked to who were brought up in various Christian traditions talk about the influence of hymnody and spiritual music on their own playing. It would be interesting to know whether as a practicing Muslim, you see any parallels, in intent if not in execution, between the Sufi traditions of devotional music and your own take on American Primitive guitar. I have been very open about my faith as a Muslim and its effect on my playing. As a Muslim, everything I do is as, well, a Muslim. So my playing American Primitive guitar as a Muslim could be interpreted as a blending of the two traditions. Plus, most of the titles to my tracks are rooted in the Islamic faith . . . or Frank Herbert’s Dune series . . . but that is a different conversation ☺

There does exist a tradition within some Sufi circles with mixing music into devotional practices, but that really isn’t my gig. Do not expect to see me doing a whirling Dervish routine while playing live - although I am known to wear a fez from time to time. I am a bit more conservative/traditional in my beliefs and really do not mix the two. That being said, I often look at my role as an artist in the same way as the prophet David (peace be upon him), as he was known to write compositions to God. In the same vein, I view my playing as one-on-one concert with the Almighty - again, I know that sounds pretentious and cheesy, but it is the truth. Nick Cave once said that every song he wrote was really a love song to God; he later recanted this statement, but it still resonates with me. Therefore, I’ll say it: every song I write is really a love song to God.

While there is a debate within the Muslim community over the religious legality of music, especially in regards to stringed instruments, there are a number of Muslims involved in music. Many are active in the hip-hop and jazz genres, but others have branched out. To my knowledge, I am the only Muslim in this genre - I could be wrong, but I have yet to hear of any others . . . if I must be the representative, so be it. I enjoy discussing my faith to other musicians, and discussing my music to those within my faith tradition.

What is the balance of composition and to improvisation in your music?

Wow! Great question! It depends. When I play live, it is almost always improv, although based around a set of structured songs. Beyond that, the hardest part of composing a song is to make it sound as if the structure is random, yet it has been rehearsed some many times that it becomes rote.

Songs From The Bahr Bela Ma is the glaring exception. I recorded that album with tunings and riffs in mind. Beyond that, the recordings were completely improvised. So much so, that I really cannot play those songs again in the exact same way as I recorded them. May be improv was a bad idea!?

What are you listening to right now, old or new? Any recommendations you’d like to share with us?

Literally, I am writing these answers while listening to the new album by Myrath, a Tunisian prog band, that is completely blowing my mind. Rush (Grace Under Pressure and Presto), Mournful Congregation (The Book of Kings), Yes (Replayer), Anathema (Alternative 4) and the new Zombi album have also been in the background while driving as of late. And to be brutally honest, my daughter is really into Taylor Swift . . . so I cannot lie: 1989 is on my phone and gets played regularly.

As for recommendations, that is always a tough one. Solo player-wise, I’d recommend people picking up anything by Ass and James Blackshaw – both are quite amazing. Prog-wise, I have really enjoyed the new EP by Shaolin Death Squad – very melodic, crazy and full of talent. I am also looking forward to John Carpenter’s second solo album coming out soon.

The guitar nerd bit: what instruments do you play and what do you like about them? Is there one particular instrument you’d save first in the face of a natural disaster (once you’d saved your nearest and dearest, of course!)

You guys are going to hate me for this, but I know nothing about this kind of stuff. I have two six-strings and a twelve-string Taylor; a Takamine nylon; a Gold-tone Weissenborn; and a Deering Banjo. As for make and models . . . I’d have to look at them. Sorry, kind of dead on this one . . .

Banjos: yes or no? Favourite plucked-thing that isn’t a guitar?

Yes to the banjo, although there is a funny story about that. Graveyard Stomps and Funeral Rags featured bookending banjo tracks. Then I played a gig at the Philadelphia Folk Festival. Everyone there and their brother had a banjo. I got so sick of hearing that twang sound that I put the banjo down for a good year or so. Finally, I picked it back up and did a couple Genesis tracks on it. Expect to hear the return of the banjo on American Nasheeds.

If I am not playing the guitar, I actually like messing around with analog synths and the mellotron - again, I am Prog Guy – it’s required to like the mellotron. God willing, my next album might have a few mellotron tracks on it . . .

What are you working on at the moment and what’s store for you next?

Right now, most of my energy is on getting out by latest full-length American Nasheeds by mid-March and promoting it. Beyond that, as long as my kids require me to play guitar to lull them to sleep, new material is always on the horizon.

Any questions I should have asked you and didn’t?

​Yeah, two

“Why are you so hard to get in contact with?!" Hahaha! I get this a lot. People send me emails and I mean to respond but then forget. Trust me, people: my closest friends have the same complaint. I’d like to blame it on my wife and kids. . . but it’s just a character flaw. Just keep hitting me up and I will respond . . . eventually!

“How do you pronounce your last name?" It is pronounced “Hi-Oh-nis”. It’s Greek and means “snow”. It gets mispronounced more than you’d think, but I don’t really do stage-names.

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[mythandritual]

"I Have at Least Five Albums Worth of Material Yet to Record!” An Interview with Mark Fosson

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 25th May 2015

We are very pleased to bring you an interview with the last guitarist John Fahey signed to Takoma records, Mark Fosson. After Takoma was sold, Mark's recordings for the label remained in his garage unheard for almost 30 years, until they were finally released in 2006 by Drag City. A further archival release, Digging in the Dust, a collection of early home recordings, was released by Tompkins Square in 2012. Fast forward to 2015, and Mark has just brought out his first ever new collection of instrumentals, kY, a paean to his home state of Kentucky, and mighty fine it is too - in our view, his best album yet. Recorded at his home in Baltimore, the album has a timeless, folk-infused quality and features Mark on banjo and dulcimer as well as an enviable collection of guitars...

Can you start off by telling us about the new album, kY? You appear to be revisiting your roots on two accounts: firstly, it has the feel of the sort of pure American Primitivism that could have been put out by Takoma any time in the 70s; secondly, the strong traditional folk themes suggest that you are literally revisiting your roots as a native Kentuckian.  I had been trying to record a whole other group of instrumentals that I had written and not getting anything I was really happy with. I was probably trying way too hard to come up with the perfect guitar album and being way too critical, which I’m prone to do. At a certain point I realized I wasn't having any fun at all and decided to step away from it for a while. So next time I went down to my studio, I pulled out my banjo instead of a guitar and started noodling around and came up with Kingdom Come. I had just purchased a Tascam DR-05, so I made a quick recording of it and was totally pleased with the way it came out. I thought, why not do a whole new album that way? So I would sit and noodle every day till I came up with an idea I liked and record it immediately, while it was still fresh. Most of the songs are first takes, but I never did more than three takes and I think the tunes have a very spontaneous feel because of it. I used the Tascam on quite a few of the songs on the record... Kingdom Come, Kentucky, Cold Dark Holler, Come Back John. All the songs are inspired by my childhood memories of growing up in Kentucky. I recorded it at Pine Box Studios -  a.k.a my basement. What have you been up to recently? It’s been eight years since Jesus on a Greyhound came out. I’m aware of the live sessions you’ve done for Folkadelphia and Irene Trudel, but I guess you’ve been keeping busy in other ways... I moved to Baltimore about six years ago and have been writing and playing every chance I get. Did a short tour with Daniel Bachman when our Tompkins Square records came out… Done quite a few gigs in Philly and New York, some with Don Bikoff, who has become a good friend. A lot of excellent young musicians out there I’ve had the chance to play with… Hope to do a lot more. Were you pleased with the response to Digging in the Dust? Were these recordings what brought you to the attention of John Fahey and Takoma in the 70s? Yes, I was very pleased with the response… it's good to have it out there after all these years! These are the tapes I originally sent to Takoma. There were also five vocal tracks on that demo which John really liked. I’m not crazy about the way my voice sounded back then… like I was 12 years old! Luckily I’ve learned to sing a little better over the years. There was a song on the demo called Grandpa Was A Thinker, which John and his wife, Melody, liked a lot. I’m pretty sure it was that one and Gorilla Mountain that got me signed. How did you link up with John Fahey and Takoma Records?  I had been listening a lot to releases on Takoma… I think I wore out a coupla copies of Kottke/Lang/Fahey. On a lark I sent the tape to them, never dreaming I’d get signed! I remember I had come home from work - I was working in a steel plant at the time - and had fallen asleep in my chair. My wife woke me up, saying, “There’s some guy named Charlie Mitchell from Takoma Records on the phone." Then when I got to California, John co-signed for a brand new Martin 12-string. I kick myself nearly every day for selling that guitar later on! As soon as I got to LA, I started opening shows for him… I think the first was McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Santa Monica, which was right next door to the Takoma office. His records sounded great, but hearing him live - and that close! - was an unbelievable experience. How did Drag City come to release The Lost Takoma Sessions 29 years after it was recorded? My cousin Tiffany Anders had started listening to Fahey and found out I had been on the label, so she asked for a copy of the recordings. They were gathering dust in the corner of the garage and I was reluctant to let her have them at first, because I figured the stuff was too old for anyone to care about. She proceeded to send it around and before long I had three or four offers from labels to put it out. I eventually decided on Drag City and I think they did an excellent job of getting it out there. What was the musical journey you took to playing solo acoustic guitar? Did you do the whole garage band thing first or were you always attracted to acoustic music? And what were your formative influences, musical or otherwise? Everyone in my family was a total music lover, so I was bombarded with good music of all styles from an early age. When I was in elementary school, Jean Ritchie would come and perform every year… that’s probably the first traditional folk music I was exposed to. I played a festival with her later on and at the after-show jam, I talked her into giving me a dulcimer lesson, which was totally cool of her. My Aunt Rachel sang and played guitar and I was always asking to play her guitar. I bugged her so much, in fact, that she gave me one of hers - a Beltone. What a beauty! That pretty much started me down the guitar road. Also my dad would buy 45s from the guy that stocked the jukeboxes in the beer joints he frequented and was always bringing home the cool, obscure music… lots of blues and extreme hillbilly stuff. Later on I became a Roger Miller fan and pretty much taught myself to play listening to his records. My grandmother was bedridden for a long time and I would go to her house and try the songs out on her. If I got her laughing I considered it a success.  Then at the age of 14, the Beatles broke and that’s when me and probably a billion other teenagers decided to become musicians. That turned into a succession of garage bands. Then in college I started getting more in to the folk music again. My buddy Dan Gore and I would spend hours at the school library listening to the old blues and Folkways records - The Harry Smith Anthology was a big favorite - and we began performing at the school’s coffeehouse every Friday night. It was run by my English teacher, Nancy McClellan, and she also organized some of the big folk festivals in the area. She may have encouraged me more than anyone to be a musician. Then when I was stationed in North Dakota in the Air Force, I began discovering the Takoma artists. I actually bought the Kottke/Lang/Fahey album because of the cool cover - I wasn’t that familiar with the artists at that point - and was blown away by it. I think the most influential album for me, though, is Peter Lang’s Thing At The Nursery Room Window. It’s still one of my top five favorite albums of all time. Which reminds me… I think Daniel Bachman forgot to give me back my Peter Lang CD!

What were you up to between the Takoma recordings and Jesus on a Greyhound? Did you keep making music during this period? Can you tell us how Jesus... came about? When the Takoma thing fell apart, I continued playing around Los Angeles, Sometimes solo, sometimes with a small group. I played with a bass and tabla player for a spell - that was a great sounding little combo. Then in the mid 80s, I started a country rock duo called Crazy Hearts with Karen Tobin. We had a song on the A Town South Of Bakersfield compilation, along with Lucinda Williams, Jim Lauderdale and Dwight Yoakam, then went to Nashville to showcase, but Karen ended up getting a solo deal on Atlantic Records and that was pretty much the end of the duo. Then I started a group called The Bum Steers with my good friends Edward Tree on electric guitar, Taras Prodaniuk on bass and Billy Block on drums. We caused quite a ruckus in Nashville: Porter Wagoner personally invited us to play the Grand Ol’ Opry, but I think we may have been a little too left-of-centre for that town. Anyway, after these two full-blown groups, I decided to get back to basics and perform solo again. Jesus On A Greyhound came about because I wanted to write an album’s worth of songs that sounded good with just voice & guitar. And although I did add some extra musicians to the record, the music is still drastically stripped down compared to what I had been doing. And totally acoustic. At the moment there seems to be a veritable swarm of young players influenced by the American Primitive sound. Do you feel any particular affinity for them? Are there any favourite players who particularly stand out for you?  When The Lost Takoma Sessions came out, were you aware of people like Jack Rose and Glenn Jones? I started to become a lot more aware of the newer guitarists when Lost Takoma came out. I did a short tour with Joanna Newsom and she turned me on to a lot of the younger players. Of course I was aware of Jack Rose and was already a Glenn Jones fan. Then, like I said earlier, I did a short tour with Daniel Bachman and was really impressed with his playing. He’s on fire… seems like he puts out a new record every two weeks. Met Nathan Bowles through Daniel and I really enjoy his banjo playing, both solo and with the Black Twig Pickers. I’ve become friends with quite a few of the new pickers: through Don Bikoff I met Matt Sowell, who introduced me to Kyle Fosburgh, who introduced me to Hayden Pedigo. I got to play a duet with Hayden on his new record Five Steps. There is certainly no shortage of excellent young musicians out there! Lots of great records being made…I’m always checking out the new stuff. You play banjo on a couple of tracks on the new album, which sounds fantastic. Are you a big fan of the instrument? Are we likely to hear more banjo excursions from you in the future? Thank you… I love playing banjo! Seems like I don’t do it as much as I would like to, but it’s getting a little more frequent all the time. I keep saying I’m going to get a really nice clawhammer and get serious with it… someday! I was at a songwriter retreat in Stanley, Idaho, a couple of weeks ago and one of the musicians had a killer clawhammer with nylon strings that sounded amazing. So what happens next? Any plans for gigs? Have you got more material up your sleeve? Well I have at least five albums worth of material yet to record, so I’ll just keep plugging along and making new records. Been getting a lot of pressure to put out a follow-up to Jesus On A Greyhound, so that’s probably the next project up. Unless things change…which they do! And of course I plan to keep gigging as long as I can.

Behind kY - Mark Fosson's Track-by-Track Guide

We asked Mark about the guitars and other instruments he used on kY. He responded by sending us a track-by-track guide to the instruments played and the tunings, as well as a little background on each of the tunes. Jimmy Leg Mule high strung Tacoma Road King [C -G - C - G - C - E] You need to visualize riding this mule as you listen. Loose Change 1995 Martin 00016GT [Standard Tuning] The ‘loose change’ refers more to the chord progression than the amount of coins in my pocket. The way it sort of gets lost at the end and falls in a hole… I meant to do that! When We Were Young 1968 Gibson B-25 12 String [A# - F - A# - F - A# - D] I wrote this one for my grandparents, Harry & Grace Steed.  Kingdom Come Deering "GoodTime" banjo [G - D - G - A# - D] Kingdom Come is a real town in Harlan County, Kentucky. Indian Summer Tacoma DM1812E3 12 String [C - F - C - F- F- C] Glenn Jones showed me this tuning and I proceeded to write about seven songs using it.  Dogwood Dulcimer was made by Robbie Long, San Geronimo, CA 1976 [A - A - A - D] I often wonder if the fellow who built this dulcimer is still alive? Simpleton 1956 Gibson LG2 [C - G - C - G - C - E] There was a fellow named John in my hometown who would stand on the corner directing traffic & waving to everyone who passed. In the old days he would have been considered the ‘village idiot” but my folks used to refer to him as the ambassador of good will.  Cold Dark Hollow 1956 Gibson LG2 [D - A - D - F - A - D] A cold dark hollow is an eerie place when the sun is about to go down… I tried to capture that feeling. Avondale Strut Tacoma DM1812E3 12 String [C - G - C- E - G - C] The part of town where the black folks lived… my romanticized idea of a regular Friday night there.  A Drink w/Stephen F 1995 Martin 00016GT [Std tuning] Legend has it that Stephen Foster drank himself to death in the North American Hotel and left this world with 38 cents in his pocket. Which brings us back to the amount of coins in my pocket… let me check… hmmm …39 cents. Bad Part Of Town Deering "Good Time" banjo [G- D - G - B - D] There’s a ‘Bad Part’ in every town… And I’ve been to a LOT of towns Kentucky 1990 Gibson J100 [D - A - D - F - A - D] I’m not sure what this one is about. Come Back John 1968 Gibson B25 12 String [ A# - F - A# - F - A# - D] This is me trying my damndest to write a John Fahey tune… inspired by Sunflower River Blues, which John taught me how to play backstage at Bob Baxter’s Guitar Workshop, 1977.

[mythandritual]

Ravens and Questing Beasts: On the Trail of Bob Hadley

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 5th January 2016

Chances are, if you've come across the music of Bob Hadley, it will be by way of Celtic Reverie, the track included in the seminal first volume of Tompkins Square's Imaginational Anthems series. However, between 1973 and 1980, Bob released three Takoma-influenced albums of finger style guitar, augmented with some nifty bottleneck: Raven, Tunes from the Well and On the Trail of the Questing Beast, all on Stefan Grossman's Kicking Mule label. The albums constituted a body of work any self-respecting acoustic guitarist would be proud of, with melodic original compositions sitting seamlessly side by side with traditional tunes and the occasional carefully chosen cover. Contemporary reviews bear this out: Guitar Magazine of London called him a genius of melody, extolling the virtues of his haunting sound. Meanwhile, Guitar Player described him as a fingerpicking talent on a par with anyone recording today. Whilst his albums are still available as downloads and you can occasionally pick up reasonably-priced copies of the vinyl originals, he has never had the CD or vinyl reissue treatment afforded to many of his contemporaries, which is a real missed opportunity when the music is this good. Maybe it's because theres no mysterious back story: Bob arrived, made some great albums, before hanging up his guitar (in terms of public performances, at least) and swapping it for the world of academia and  everyday life. Thirty five years on from that last wonderful album, we are very grateful that he was gracious enough to give North Country Primitive his time for the short interview below.

Can you tell me about your early musical journey - particularly the period leading up to your first album, The Raven?     The major key influences that come to mind are John Fahey and Leo Kottke. I heard an album of Fahey's when I was about 20, and within a few years, I had bought a couple of his albums and listened a lot to him.  I heard Kottke's Takoma album in 1970, and found that to be amazing.  I bought Kottke's next few albums as they came out, and they were a strong influence. Other earlier influences were Pete Seeger, Elizabeth Cotton, Dave van Ronk, Tom Rush, and any number of other guitarists from the folk revival era.   In the early 1970s, I began to play guitar a lot, and did some composing, while I was in graduate school. When I completed my graduate studies in Philosophy, I recorded, on my own, the Raven album.  The first pressing was just 100 copies. 

You were signed to the Kicking Mule label and released three albums with them. What was this period of your musical life like?   Soon after I pressed those 100 copies of Raven, I sent some to out a few radio stations in Vancouver  the CBC and CKLG-FM are the ones I remember.  Both the CBC and CKLG-FM played cuts from the albums at least a few times, and once, when Ed Denson -who had founded Kicking Mules Records with Stefan Grossman - was in Vancouver, he was visiting the CBC.  Somebody there let him hear my Raven album, and he liked it.  He  contacted me and this led to Raven being issued by Kicking Mule.  In the next six years, I recorded two more albums with them.   From the early 1970s until 1980, I was performing in public and selling my albums at places like UBC and SFU.   It was often a fun period and I gave concerts from time to time, did a fair amount of composing and taught some guitar as well. My albums were then getting a significant amount of airplay at CBC and in other places.   Are you aware of any plans to reissue any of your albums on CD? Do you now own the rights to the recordings?   It appears that Fantasy Records had at some time acquired certain aspects of the rights to my recordings from Kicking Mule.  I'm uncertain about the details, however.  I believe also that Fantasy Records was later acquired by Concord Music and that that the latter arranged for my three albums to be available in MP3 format on sites like Amazon and iTunes and a few other places.  Are you still playing guitar?   Yes, I still play guitar a good deal, for my own pleasure.  I have not performed in public in recent years, though with a small group of friends I do perform.   There is a whole new crop of young guitarists out there making music deeply influenced by the artists associated with Takoma, Kicking Mule, the early days of Windham Hill and so on. Do you keep abreast of developments in the world of fingerstyle guitar?   I have not really remained abreast of recent developments in the genre of fingerstyle guitar, though I do hear some of it at times.  These days, I listen a good deal to Renaissance choral polyphony, western medieval music, and at times Celtic music on the harp.

[mythandritual]

From Celestial Explosion to Hallowed Ground: Don Bikoff in His Own Words

This originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 23rd April 2016

I like these American Primitive guitarists who have been around the block a few times. They plough their own furrow, and long may they continue to do so. Case in point: I sent Don Bikoff a bunch of interview questions. He decided to ignore them completely and instead sent me back an essay - a mini-biography, as it were. I mulled it over for a while, wondering whether to edit the hell out of it and squeeze it kicking and screaming into some sort of Q&A format. No, I concluded. This is how it should be read - and it's far more entertaining a prospect for it. You may know Don for his Celestial Explosion, that great lost fingerstyle album from 1968, reissued a couple of years back by the ever-dependable Tompkins Square Records. That's far from the whole story, though - he has been a busy man these last few years. There's the session he did for WFMU Radio back 2012, now available via the Free Music Archive. There's a further session for Folkadelphia that you can download via their Bandcamp page. Then, in 2014, he released his first new album in over 45 years, Hallowed Ground. It's an album you should hear. Even after this, Don isn't standing still - he's currently recording duo material with Mark Fosson, and rumour has it that these two venerable elder statesmen of fingerstyle are sparking off each other in a most edifying manner. The working title of the forthcoming album is Old Man Noises, and on the basis of the yet-to-be-mixed bits and pieces I've had the pleasure of hearing, it's one to look out for. Over to you, Don...

I began playing guitar around 1959 or 1960, motivated by listening to Allen Freed under the bed covers ever since I was six years old. I had a great collection of various pomades that froze my hair better than Gorilla Glue to simulate that Elvis look. Early AM radio rock came in, with a good smattering of southern blues - on a good night the stations  be heard from quite a long way away. Nonetheless, I coerced my father into buying me a guitar at age twelve: I still remember that Harmony F-hole red and black sunburst six-string. He insisted, however, that I take lessons. Let’s just say that Mel Bay and I did not see eye-to-eye and the lessons were short-lived, to say the least. To backtrack a bit, my first public performance consisted of an accordion tune for my second grade class, followed by some trumpeting through to the sixth grade. Grade eight led to the formation of Donny and the Tornadoes, my early cover band, playing Beach Boys and other top of the pops tunes. At around fifteen years of age, I came to the conclusion that some guitarists were actually using their fingers rather than a plectrum. Perhaps it was Pete Seeger and my Weavers albums that led to this revelation. Now it gets a bit more interesting, as I was old enough to pick myself up and travel the Long Island Railroad to NYC and Greenwich Village. This was truly the very beginning of the folk scene and I was privy to performances by such luminaries as Bob Dylan, Dave Van Ronk, Buffy St. Marie and Jose Feliciano - the list goes on and on. One evening, Dave Van Ronk spotted a kid at the front table in the Gaslight Café and castigated him for writing furiously throughout his performance every night. After much embarrassment, he took me aside and allowed me to sit in at the backroom area, where I was treated to all the artists, whom I pestered unmercifully. The die had been cast. As I grew as a young guitarist, I sought out who I considered to be the true masters. I found the recordings of Alan Lomax to be a great help. The folk boom was coming of age and the Newport Folk Festival was in its infancy. I spent afternoons there, often under a tree with Mississippi John Hurt and maybe five or ten people looking on. Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Son House… guitarists playing slide with tableware and steak bones. I was in blues heaven. My own style was beginning to coalesce as a result of my encounters with these great artists. I never heard of John Fahey until a friend from California introduced me to his music and commented that we were somewhat alike. Truly a case of independent discovery on my part… I thought there must be a parallel universe somewhere out there for fingerstyle pickers. As the sixties came and went, I did get to meet Fahey; I still have one of the letters he wrote me. I found Robbie Basho intriguing, along with Peter Walker, Sandy Bull and a host of others. Timothy Leary’s League for Spiritual Discovery on the lower east side of Manhattan had both Peter Walker and I playing for the faithful. So along came an introduction to a record company owner who was looking for new artists for his label, Keyboard Records. I recall going to his office for an unofficial audition of sorts. He chronicled his own success at producing the Firestone Tyre Xmas Album and the Dorman’s Endico Cheese jingle (The first cheese individually wrapped in plastic!). Ed was very enthusiastic about my unique approach to the guitar and said he had an opening for a single album. The previous artist he interviewed simply didn’t excite him. His name was Neil Diamond. Within the next few months in 1968, Celestial Explosion was released and, much to my surprise, garnered great reviews from Record World and other critics. An underground favorite was the phrase often used to describe my music. My brief encounter with a press agent led me to a nationwide TV live performance on the Ted Mack Amateur Hour, where I lost to a Russian gymnastic team and a singing shoemaker. Just search for me on Youtube and you can see it for yourself. Ted said, 'That’s unusual, to say the least.' Subsequent years led to performances in Europe and small clubs throughout the U.S. and then reality hit. Family and day jobs happened. But then, 40 years later, Josh Rosenthal of Tomkins Square fame heard me on a local radio show and contacted me. One thing led to another and before I knew it Celestial Explosion was re-released to a new wave of listeners. I released  another album just last year, Hallowed Ground, my second in 40 years. I actually have been quite active again by my modest standards. I’m doing a number of folk festivals this Spring: The Montauk Music Festival, Music on the Great South Bay, Hopscotch in Raleigh, NC, The Bing Arts Center in Springfield, Ma, the Glen Cove Folk Festival and who knows what else. I also continue to play at small venues in Brooklyn and Manhattan and on Long Island… Union Pool, Elvis Guesthouse and the Living Room, to name but a few. One of the best things to happen has been my association with Mark Fosson. Mark is both a remarkable player, musician and composer and he and I share a vision of sorts, that enables us to play so well together. We are hoping to release a joint project in the near future. 

[mythandritual]

"Up Close and Personal - That's What Sharing Music is All About.” An Interview with Dennis Taylor

An Interview With Dennis Taylor, North Country Primitive, 20th April 2015

New age music is a much maligned beast. By and large, it has still to receive the critical reappraisal given to other styles and genres that developed in the 1970s. Maybe this is because its peak followed the year zero swagger of punk, and its expansive, meditative soundscape was the diametric opposite of punk’s short, sharp shock; or maybe because it was seen as the final swansong of the old hippies and baby boomers – mellow music for mellow people; or maybe because at its most soporific, it always contained within it the risk of moving a little too close to elevator music. Of course, such sweeping statements are patently unfair – the new age movement contained within its ranks many questing, exploratory musicians who were willing to incorporate the influences of Indian and world music, folk and minimalist composition into their sonic palettes. And by the early 80s, the new age movement was the natural home – in many ways, the only home - for fingerstyle guitarists influenced by Fahey, Kottke, Basho and the Takoma school of players.

Whilst John Fahey noisily denounced any attempts to include him as part of the new age movement, Robbie Basho found a home on Windham Hill, the leading new age label. The label’s founder, William Ackerman, was a fingerstyle guitarist whose debut album, In Search of the Turtle’s Navel, slyly acknowledges Fahey’s influence in its title. By the early 80s, American Primitive guitar was part of the new age pantheon, even if, as another Takoma alumnus, Peter Lang, has observed, the style was too folk for new age and too new age for folk. In any case, you only need to listen to the 2008 Numero Group compilation, Wayfaring Strangers: Guitar Soli, where many of the featured artist were associated with or influenced by Windham Hill, to understand that the new age movement, or at the very least the acoustic guitar aspect of it, is ripe for re-evaluation.

All of which brings us to Dennis Taylor, whose sole album, 1983’s Dayspring, was released on CD for the first time earlier this year by Grass Top Recording, who have also brought us new editions of two of Robbie Basho’s later albums, as well as showcasing contemporary players with their roots in the American Primitive tradition. Dennis is unabashedly a graduate of the new age movement and over the years his music has incorporated many of the diverse strands that make up the new age sound, which is, after all, less a genre and more a statement of intent – he has incorporated fingerstyle guitar, wind synths, looping, Indian classical music and world fusion into his oeuvre. Dayspring, however, is a solo acoustic guitar album, and although it is clearly at one with the new age, it is also steeped in the Takoma tradition Dennis had been drawn to at the start of the 70s.

Dennis’s musical journey began in typical fashion for many young Americans growing up in the late 50s and early 60s, even in such far-flung corners of the States as small town Nebraska. “Like a lot of kids my age,” he recalls, “I first became aware of the guitar through the singing cowboys on TV and the early rock ‘n’ rollers. The Everly Brothers, with their twin acoustics, come to mind. I also saw Johnny Cash at my first big time concert when I was 8 years old. I think it was about that time that I asked my folks for a guitar and lessons.” By the time he was entering his teenage years, The Beach Boys and The Beatles were riding high, and he was caught up in the swell of excitement they generated. He adds, “I also had a love of pop guitar instrumentals, which meant The Ventures and surf guitar music were big for me. My friend and I taught ourselves to play with the help of a record and book set, Play Guitar with The Ventures. We learned the popular surf guitar tunes and moved on from there to starting a band and learning the rock songs of the era. I was also taking drum lessons, so I started in the band on drums, but then switched to rhythm guitar when we got a drummer with a full drum set. My main function throughout most of the eight years we had the band was lead vocalist. Instrumentally, I switched between guitar and bass, as members came and went.”

By the time Dennis was starting college, he was developing what was to become an enduring interest in acoustic guitar. “I became aware of the acoustic side of artists like Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Paul Simon, Crosby, Stills and Nash and the newer artists like James Taylor and Cat Stevens. So by now, I was splitting my time between playing electric music with the rock band and acoustic rock with my trio or sometimes solo.”

A pivotal moment came when he became involved in sing-a-longs at a local church youth group. He remembers, “It was there that an older friend taught me the basic ‘Travis-picking’ that got me started on fingerstyle guitar, although at this stage it was still as an accompaniment to vocals. I also had started listening to the acoustic guitar soloists I had discovered at a local record store, the Takoma guitarists - John Fahey, Leo Kottke and Robbie Basho. I learned a couple of their instrumental songs and started writing my own first guitar instrumental, the song that evolved into Reflection of the Dayspring. But mostly I was still writing singer-songwriter acoustic music with vocals.”

His rock band, The People, had folded by the time Dennis finished college. By now, he was married and had a child on the way. In order make enough of a living to support his new family, he began to seek restaurant gigs as a solo singer and guitarist, whilst playing in Top 40 club bands and teaching guitar at a local music store. “As it was, the only real steady money to be made was by going on the road with a band every weekend. I ended up doing that full time for the next few years. At the same time, I continued to pursue my acoustic music on the side and did occasional park and downtown outdoor concerts, keeping a hand in on the acoustic side, both solo and with a couple of friends.”

Life on the road became increasingly incompatible with family life. ”I quit the road band business in the mid-late 70s to be able to stay at home. I tried to do this by taking on guitar students at home and also teaching and working at music store. By now, I was seriously writing solo guitar instrumentals and I was starting to get enough original guitar pieces to perform solo at a few coffeehouses and concerts.”

Around this time, Dennis and his family moved out of the city for a quieter life in a small Nebraskan town, where he continued to teach guitar and work in a music store. It was whilst living in this community that several of the pieces that found their way onto Dayspring first emerged. “We had a small artist’s community,” Dennis recalls, “And I lived right across the street from a good friend, Ernie Ochsner, who was a visual artist. He was painting giant murals for a local museum and other landscape pieces, as he was getting pretty well known across the country through art shows and such. Ernie and I would hang out every day in his studio on the third floor of a downtown building in the town square - he would paint, while I would play the guitar. Many of the early Dayspring pieces evolved from those sessions. Before I moved back to Lincoln, I played my first official solo guitar concerts at the local art museum and the following year, I played my guitar pieces live on the radio for the first time.”

By 1979, following a spell developing his fretless bass chops with a jazz-rock band and by now living back in Lincoln and still working at a music store, Dennis joined The Spencer Ward Quintet, a band playing a hybrid of jazz fusion, world music, folk and semi-classical music. “It was all original music, written primarily by the leader, who was a nylon-string guitarist. The band consisted of classical guitar, vibes, flute, violin and drums. I sat in with them on fretless bass and convinced them that it would really fill out the sound of the music. At the same time, I was still pursuing my now all-instrumental solo guitar music, doing solo guitar gigs in many of the same clubs in Lincoln where the band would play. I was also still doing park concerts and outdoor downtown lunchtime concerts as a solo guitarist.”

The bandleader had visited Portland, Oregon in the Pacific Northwest, where some of the local musicians convinced him that their acoustic/electric fusion would find an appreciative audience. As they had already built a large and loyal following in Lincoln, the move seemed like the next logical step in the band’s evolution. “The band moved to Oregon in the spring of 1980. A couple of months later, in the summer, I joined them out there, but I was uncomfortable with the big city aspect. The other members all had day jobs, but so far, gigs were not happening. I made a quick decision to move down to Eugene, Oregon, a small college town that was more the size of city I was used to. As it turned out, there were a lot good musicians in Eugene, but work was very scarce, both musically and even for day jobs. Within a few months, my money had run out and I was not even close to gaining any kind of musical foothold. So, I packed up and headed back to Lincoln, a place where I had already established my self as a solo guitarist through clubs concerts and doing live radio at a local station. I came home to Nebraska determined to not get distracted musically again from my solo guitar work and to make a record of my solo guitar music before I turned 30 years old.”

“I started putting the music of Dayspring together, started teaching guitar at a music store again, played my solo gigs and also took the opportunity to put a jazz piano trio together with two friends, with me on fretless bass, working a lot of the same clubs and concerts I was playing as an acoustic guitarist.”

Encouraged by Terry Moore, the owner of Dirt Cheap Records, the foremost independent record store in Lincoln, Dennis went into the studio to record Dayspring. “Terry was an alternative icon in Lincoln,” he recalls. “He had also helped to start and mostly funded our local whole food co-op store and KZUM, our listener-owned, volunteer programmed radio station. He so loved and believed in the music I was doing for Dayspring, that after it was recorded and I had got to the point where I’d decided to release it independently, he offered to pay for a small pressing of LPs himself, which I would repay through sales. As it turned out, I was able to pay for the records on my own, but he helped promote Dayspring through his record shop and in fact had me do a release debut by playing live all afternoon in the front window of the store - a truly fun event for everyone!”

Spectrum, the studio Dennis used, turned out to be owned by musicians he knew from his garage band days, one of whom, his childhood friend Tommy Alesio, engineered the recordings. “They’d just opened the studio and because they were competing with the older established studios, their rates were very reasonable. I believe it was something like $30 an hour for recording, mixing and master tapes. Since I was doing a fairly simple project recording-wise and I was totally ready by the time I got into the studio, we were able to do the whole record in one session, mostly first takes. Once the session was set up, I had rehearsed and polished the songs at home non-stop for weeks, using my home cassette recorder to make sure the songs were ready to record, with the arrangements and song orders pretty much planned out. In the studio, we basically set up the mikes and let the tape roll. It was a long day, but we got the songs down in just one long afternoon session. The total cost was $150 and I had ready to press quarter-inch master tapes.”

Initially, Dennis attempted to get his music out by following the tried and tested route of sending a demo to the record company he felt was most likely to want to produce the album; in this case, William Ackerman’s Windham Hill, which by this time was the pre-eminent record label for new age and solo acoustic guitar releases. However, as he recalls, “It took several months for Windham to receive the tape, then it was lost for a while, then it was found, then it was listened to. I wasn’t that patient or that hopeful after reading about the glut of demos they had been receiving – up to 200 a month.”

Dennis decided the way forward was to put the album out himself in a limited local edition, with the help of How to Make and Sell Your Own Record, an illustrated step-by-step guide from Guitar Player Magazine. “I got so impatient, not getting a response on my demo tape, that by the time I finally got a ‘thanks, but no thanks and good luck’ letter back from Windham Hill, it was August of 1983, my own pressing had arrived five months earlier and was already selling in the local record stores and playing on local radio. I’m glad I didn’t wait to hear back before I went ahead on my own!”

Dennis called upon the talents of his friends in Lincoln to bring the album to fruition. The photos for the album cover were shot at a local park concert by his friend Lisa Paulsen, who was a photographer for the University newspaper. Another friend, Lauren Weisberg-Norris, worked as a commercial artist and took Dennis’s basic layout ideas for the cover and made them camera ready. He also took note of the experience of local musician friends who had pressed records of their bands. “I looked into the cost of using the same standard national pressing plants they had used. I was not happy with what I saw. Most of those plants were very expensive, wanted at least a thousand copies to get a decent price and the vinyl they were using was that cheap, thin, floppy vinyl: snap, crackle and pop. This was not at all what I wanted. I had audiophile pressings from Germany and Japan in my own record collection and I knew what good, quiet, heavy vinyl sounded like.”

Poring through the small ads in the back of music magazines, he came across a tiny advert for a small pressing plant in Cheyenne, Wyoming, Rocky Mt. Recording. “I thought, what the heck and I gave them a call. They were really nice people and they were really excited about the idea. Even better, their prices were half what the nationals wanted, with a very small minimum of 300 records. So I said sure, send me some samples. The album cover artwork sample was a little antiquated and hokey looking, but the cardboard quality was good. My artwork was camera ready, so no worries there. The music they sent was local country bands and not all that impressive musically, but the quality of the vinyl… heavy, virgin vinyl, like I hadn’t seen since the sixties. It seemed about three times the weight of what the other pressing plants were putting out and it was quiet, like a good audiophile pressing. Their little pressing machines were from the sixties. I had found my answer. The whole ticket for the 300 records, covers and even cardboard mailers and shipping was going to be $794.75. I would be bringing the whole project in for around $950.”

“The couple that ran the pressing plant loved my high quality masters and the artwork,” Dennis continues. “They said, ‘The tapes sounded so good, we didn’t have to do anything with them!’ They were used to local country bands in Cheyenne bringing cassette tapes, usually recorded live at a bar and then wanting the Rocky Mt. folks to make hit sounding records out of them.”

He reflects: “Comparatively, it’s a breeze to put out your own music these days, but of course there are also many more people with that easy access, so it’s a flooded market. A guy playing solo acoustic guitar, while there were quite a few of us, at least nationwide, was still a fairly unique entity in the recording world back in the early 80s. You just had to somehow get that music out there to the people who loved it. And for me that was on a local level, without huge life changing investments and with lots of immediate feedback from the fans of the music. For me, that was a better way to go.”

The local reaction to Dayspring led to an unexpected new venture for Dennis. “Shortly after it was released, I walked into a Radio Shack to buy a part for a speaker. As I was writing the cheque, the cashier’s eyes got big and he asked me, 'Are you the Dennis Taylor? The guitar player?’ 'Uh, yeah. I guess so.’ 'Wow! I play your record on my radio show all the time!’ He then asked me to come and play live on the show, Green Fields, which featured new age and jazz-fusion music. After I played, my new friend, Clyde Adams, who was also a drummer and like me was into Indian classical and fusion music, asked me if I wanted to come back and co-host the weekly program. I ended up doing this for the next six years. We were the only program in Lincoln at the time playing those kinds of music and the show was very well received.”

Around the same time, Dennis was also working on a local public access TV talk show, for which he had provided the theme music. The director, Doug Boyd, invited him to play some live performances of the Dayspring music for public access viewing. “I said sure, so using our same crew, we created two half hour programmes, Dennis Taylor Guitar Solos I & II. At the time, these were the only public access programs that were all music and no talk, the opposite of most of what was on the air on that channel. The shows were so popular, that they ran almost daily from 1984 to 1988. All of these things, along with downtown gigs, my yearly park concerts, various appearances at the University of Nebraska and sales at local record stores helped the original pressing of Dayspring to sell out locally in just the first few years. I couldn’t afford to repress the album, so essentially it became a limited edition. I was one of only two solo acoustic guitarists in the Lincoln and Omaha area that I know of, along with my friend Chris Griffith, who was pretty strictly a non-writer and a Leo Kottke 12-string disciple. It was pretty much me if you wanted that kind of music either for your club or park concert or wedding or whatever.”

The reception to Dayspring locally and the steady rise in stock of new age music nationally left Dennis with high hopes. “Being invited to the steady onslaught of Windham Hill and other new age artists coming to perform in Lincoln and Omaha, it seemed like the golden era for our kind of music had come. In our small group of musician, DJs, store owners and so on, we started to feel like we were definitely the happening thing in music. We thought that with the flood of national recognition, with major labels jumping on the bandwagon and signing new age artists and the emergence of the new age Grammy and even our local rock and oldies station, KLMS, switching to a new age and smooth jazz format, our time had come. That we were about to become the new rock 'n’ roll - the mainstream pop music. I became the go-to guy for downtown outdoor concerts, park concerts, the new separate quiet new age and folk area at annual Holmes Lake 4th of July event…a safe distance away from the main stage, where the classic rock acts were playing.”

As early as 1984, Dennis had intended to make a follow up to Dayspring. His idea was to expand the scope of the music – 6 & 12 string guitar pieces with the addition of fretless bass and tabla and percussion. He even started demoing new material, but the project never came to fruition. In the late 80s, he started working on a solo guitar album made up of a few new pieces and some of the Dayspring material slowed down to a meditative level. This project was abandoned when he concluded he didn’t really like the results of changing the mood of the Dayspring pieces.

Meanwhile, by the mid 80s, in order to make ends meet Dennis returned to playing in top 40 house bands churning out the classic rock anthems of the day, despite not being particularly attached to what was happening in the rock and pop worlds. In terms of his own musical interests, he had dived head-first into the new age. He explains, “I had already made my personal leap from popular music to what I liked to call un-pop music by the mid 70s.  On the electric side, jazz-fusion… Takoma and Indian and world-based acoustic fusion on the acoustic side. When the 80s hit, I discovered labels like Windham Hill, Narada and  Private Music and I jumped into the new age movement with both feet. I’d found the music that I most resonated with of all the genres I had been involved in or listened to up to then, whilst also maintaining a kinship with the funkier and less experimental end of jazz-fusion. I was in a world where new age was really starting to happen on a local level, with myself and a friend doing a new age and jazz fusion weekly radio program and my old rock band mate and childhood friend, opening a new age record and bookstore and doing a Hearts of Space type radio show on our local NPR affiliated University radio station.”

The high watermark of the new age began to recede by the start of the 90s. The major labels had oversold the movement: they had come to realise that the new age artists were generally not going to sell at the levels of major pop acts and had started dropping those artists from their labels. What remained, however, was a solid niche audience, both nationally and locally, which for a while kept Dennis and his musical fellow travellers working a few times a year at local concerts. He recalls, “In the end, the park and downtown concerts started to drop off. By a stroke of luck for my tabla playing musical partner, Dave Novak and myself, we came across the owners of the two Indian restaurants, one in Lincoln and then a second one that opened a couple years later in Omaha. Those owners loved the new age world fusion music Dave and I were doing and felt it was exactly right for the ambience of their 'classy’ dining  establishments. It ended up that we were playing every Sunday in one restaurant or the other from 1992 until the Omaha restaurant changed hands and ended live music in 2003. Then it went back to once a month at the one in Lincoln until they ended live music at the end of 2013.”

He continues: “I actually did some live recordings at the restaurant, although these were not concise album-type pieces. Our job there was to stretch out and jam for three hours and many of the pieces stretched to ten, fifteen or twenty minutes each. Also whenever it was with Dave, he was miked, which allowed all the restaurant noise to come into the recordings. We joked about Kenny the Bartender doing his famous ice dump solo at the exact moment when the music got very quiet and meditative. Or the inevitable singing baby who would go on and on and never stop!”

From the mid 90s, Dennis began pursuing a new direction in his writing and instrumentation, acquiring a keyboard synthesizer/sequencer workstation, electronic hand drums, a midi-bass guitar synth controller and an electronic wind synth. The result of this new palette of sounds was a short series of concerts of pre-programmed synthesizer pieces around 1996-1997, where he used the bass synth controller for the melody and improvised element of the performances. When an inheritance from his parents meant he was finally able to give up the top 40 house band gig at the turn of the century, Dennis began to focus on melding his older acoustic guitar and tabla based approach with the newer electronic sounds he had been experimenting with. This in turn led him into the writing of new songs, using the acoustic guitar as the centre-point, but augmented with electronics and fretless bass, using live looping and on some pieces, Dave Novak’s tablas and percussion.

In 2006, the same Doug Boyd who had directed Dennis Taylor Guitar Solos I & II was asked to produce a feature length documentary of a five year Lincoln Arts Council programme he had been filming. He turned to Dennis to write and perform the soundtrack for the film, which was premiered at Lincoln University Movie Theatre in January 2007. Stories of Home paired twelve families in Lincoln with twelve visual artists, who created artworks based on each family’s story.  Denis explains: “It involved families who had come to Lincoln from Africa, Vietnam and Mexico; a Native American family; a woman who had grown up in cattle country and was now marketing vegetarian desserts; a lesbian couple and a family that had escaped Iraq. All of them were families with a background story different to the usual home-grown families in Lincoln. I did the soundtrack with acoustic guitar, wind synth and electronic hand drum and recorded it in my home studio. The project was intended to be a model for other city’s arts councils, bringing diverse peoples together by sharing there personal stories of home and getting to know each other on a one to one basis, through art and music. It was a project I am incredibly proud to have been a part of.”

Dennis admits he was getting ready to call time on the more complex approach he had been taking to music making. “Around 2011-2012, I got the strong urge to quit doing the new set up. There was always a lot of preparation involved. I constantly felt like mission control - time to push this button, time to step on this pedal, time to switch to this instrument. I decided to just go back to where I started – live acoustic guitar, with or without Dave on tabla and percussion, as the occasion required. It was so relaxing, after all that experimentation and brain work, to just be able to float away in the sound of the acoustic guitar for the evening. And although people liked the new music, some of the fans and friends from the Dayspring era used to say 'That’s really nice, but do you still play the guitar?’ Or in the guitar and looping era, 'Do you still play any of the old guitar songs?’ Don’t get me wrong. A lot of people loved the combination of the guitar and looped instruments - it was not all that electronic. The wind synth was mainly used for melodies and improvisations, with very close to real sounding flute, sax, oboe and cello samples and the electronic hand drums were mainly used to get ethnic drum and percussion sounds. The Handsonic drum pads - essentially advanced steering wheel tapping - gave me access to nearly 600 wind and drums samples, without having to spend the many years Dave had spent learning real tabla technique. With all the sounds I wanted, several lifetimes of learning would have been needed to learn the real instrumental techniques for each instrument. Anyway, I eventually put those aside, except for the rare occasion, and went back to the simplicity of getting lost in the sound of the acoustic guitar.”

With Dennis rediscovering his solo guitar approach of thirty years before, the series of fortunate events leading to the reissue of Dayspring were as serendipitous as any new age musician worth his salt could desire. Record collector Michael Klausman found an old vinyl copy of the album in a record store in Denver and loved it. Dennis takes up the story: “I had no idea Dayspring had travelled out of state, other than to friends and family. Michael contacted me via Facebook for permission to post about it and use some of the Soundcloud clips I’d put up the previous year for the 30th Anniversary of its release. He told some friends about the album, who told some more friends, who brought it the attention of Kyle Fosburgh, guitarist and owner of Grass-Tops Recording in Minneapolis. Just two days after Michael posted about the record, Kyle contacted me wanting to know if I would be interested in having him release the album on CD. That happened the last week in July 2014 and it has now been reissued in a new deluxe package, remastered from the 1981 master tapes in high-resolution digital for CD and download. The tapes had been stored in my closet, sealed in vinyl bags, since 1981! The album was released on March 3rd this year. It really is a miracle rediscovery for me and my music.”

He continues, “Coincidently, my friend Benjy, from Lincoln group The Millions, messaged me that his nephew in Brooklyn was a big fan of my record and he knew someone there who would be interested in reissuing it! What a weekend! I had already started negotiations with Kyle at Grass-Tops and was very happy with what we were working out, so I had to say to Benjy, 'Man, had you told me this a few days ago, I would been on my knees bowing to you for such incredible news, but as it is, I’m already in negotiations to do just that with a company in Minneapolis, so I’m going to have go with that offer.’ Benjy was cool with that and very happy for me.”

It seems the relationship with Grass-Tops is far from over. “Nothing is set in stone, but Kyle and I have discussed the possibility of making a new record. At the time it we discussed it, we were both pretty excited about doing the simplest thing first - a solo guitar follow-up to Dayspring. It would focus more on the quieter, newer pieces I’ve written since then, and would tentatively be entitled Nightfall. Dayspring was a brighter, daytime type of record – Nightfall would be its late evening companion. There are no solid plans as yet, but what swayed me towards a solo guitar album, after all these years of promising a new record, was a combination of my recent rediscovery of the joys of the solo guitar as a complete entity in itself and the chance to give the fans what I’ve been promising them since Dayspring came out - more of the same thing they came for in the first place.”

He adds, “We’ve also had lots of requests from our vinyl-oriented fans for a new vinyl edition of Dayspring. There is also the possibly a DVD of my two half-hour solo guitar concerts that I taped for access television back in 1983-84, Dennis Taylor - Guitar Solos I & II: Music from the Dayspring Album. Kyle has copies of those shows, which I transferred to DVD from the old, almost gone, big videotape masters 10 years ago with great fragile babying of the old tapes. With weeks of meticulous work the shows were saved pretty much intact, with good quality video and decent quality sound. Anyway, these are all tentative future plans at this time.”

Dennis has given some thought to the place where Dayspring sits in his musical journey. “It’s an odd time trip for me, listening to this record by this 28 year old guy, thirty some years ago.  I’ve noticed that my writing style hasn’t really changed that much over the years – melodically and harmonically, at least. I’ve changed more rhythmically - away from the 4/4 double-thumbing style of Fahey and Kottke and more towards the 6/8 ambient, floating style of classical North Indian music or the softer, jazzier styles of Ralph Towner, Pat Metheny and the European ECM jazz guys. The Windham Hill/new age guitar styles of Will Ackerman, Alex de Grassi and Michael Hedges had an impact on me, too. Dayspring was actually sort of a transitional record for me. The older songs were more in that traditional, folky style and the new songs were more influenced by Windham Hill guitarists, acoustic fusion like Oregon, Shakti and Ancient Future and the minimalist music of Steve Reich and Philip Glass.”

Reflecting back on his life in music so far, Dennis is contented with how things have turned out. “I never really tried for the big time with the record or with my career. From my road band days, I didn’t particularly like endless driving and staying in big cities. I was much more comfortable at home, working on a local level where I actually knew the people who loved and appreciated the music and were happy to come see me play and buy my record at a coffeehouse or a restaurant or a park concert. I really don’t think it gets any better than that. The artist and the listener on a real person, one-to-one basis. That’s really what the music is all about to me - that one-to-one communication. I’ve said before, but music cuts through all the crap and brings people together in a meaningful way. And it’s so much easier and enjoyable for all involved when you can do that on a small, personal level.”

He emphasises his perspective with an example. “In 1973, at our local auditorium, opening for Fleetwood Mac and Wishbone Ash, I sat on that big stage, the stage where I had seen most of my heroes perform, the stage that was my childhood dream to play a big-time concert on. I sat on that stage and when the lights went down, all I could see of the 3,000 people out there were the few that were hanging on the stage and all I could hear was the sound of my own voice and guitar whooshing through the huge auditorium. It was the most isolated sensation I had ever felt in my life, as if I was on some faraway planet playing into an empty void in space. It was a once in a lifetime experience that I’ll always remember fondly and a childhood dream come true, but give me the small audience and the personal sharing of the music every time. I knew that after that first night - and I was only twenty years old then. Forty years have gone by and I’ve never regretted not trying to go big-time once. Up close and personal - that’s what sharing music is all about.”

A big thank you to Dennis Taylor for the time, energy and enthusiasm he put into this interview. Dayspring is available now from Grass-Tops Recording.