One night in 1976, I drove into San Francisco with no agenda other than to hear music. I passed by the always reliable Great American Music Hall, which was primarily a jazz club. No group was named on the marquee, just four individuals, and I recognized one – Richard Greene – because he played fiddle on a Ramblin’ Jack Elliott album I had. I thought bluegrass might be a nice change of pace, and boy was I right.
The others were singer/guitarist Tony Rice, banjo player J.D. Crowe, and mandolinist David Grisman, and onstage they were joined by Todd Phillips on upright bass. After a bluegrass set of the highest order, a new group called the David Grisman Quintet came on. Phillips switched to “second mandolin,” Bill Amatneek replaced him on bass, and fiddler Darol Anger replaced Greene. No banjo, no vocals.
Their first number sounded like progressive bluegrass, if there were such a thing. It was connected to, yet unlike, the Flatt & Scruggs albums I grew up hearing. Next was “Minor Swing” by Django Reinhardt – an “ah-hah” moment that totally made sense: bluegrass meets Gypsy jazz.
I was an instant convert, and eventually witnessed subsequent Quintet members Mike Marshall and Mark O’Connor and splinter groups like the Tony Rice Unit and Turtle Island String Quartet. The Music Hall became a stop for others who were tweaking the bluegrass model, such as John Hartford, Peter Rowan, the New Grass Revival with Sam Bush and Bela Fleck, the Tim Ware Group, and Ricky Skaggs’ Boone Creek featuring Jerry Douglas. I saw a cavalcade of great music, all on account of one fluke night.
Digging into various players’ catalogs, a name that repeatedly popped up was Clarence White. The innovative lead guitarist joined the Byrds in ’68, but as an adolescent, he was in a bluegrass group called the Country Boys, seen by millions backing Sheriff Andy Taylor on “The Andy Griffith Show.” They changed their name to the Kentucky Colonels and were replaced on the show by the Dillards.
White returned to bluegrass in ’73 with Muleskinner, featuring Greene, Grisman, and Rowan. Any discussion of bluegrass flatpickers of that era must include Rice, Doc Watson, and Norman Blake, but beyond Clarence’s fleet chops, none matched him for creativity and innate timing. Tragically, White’s life and that of the supergroup were cut short when the guitarist was struck by a drunk driver later that year. He was just 29.
The Lost Masters: 1963-1973 skips through eight acoustic performances and six electric, featuring White with the Kentucky Colonels and Byrds. Two instrumental duets are included with Byrds bandmate Gene Parsons, while an Everly Brothers rehearsal and “Nashville West” showcase the Parsons/White StringBender, a mechanical modification the pair patented to mimic pedal-steel sounds. It’s an eclectic, odds-and-ends collection, but Clarence White’s mastery is evidenced throughout.
I haven’t crunched the numbers, but it seems like there are more bluegrass bands and festivals than ever before. For a genre rigidly defined by founder Bill Monroe, it continues to evolve, from traditionalists like Skaggs and Rhonda Vincent to the Punch Brothers and Billy Strings’ jam-band expeditions. Steep Canyon Rangers fall into the former category, as demonstrated on Morning Shift.
On their fourteenth studio album, the North Carolinians update the standard bluegrass instrumentation – fiddle, banjo, mandolin, acoustic guitar, and bass – with drums. Producer Darrell Scott, known for his classic “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive,” adds electric guitar on some cuts.
The quintet has three lead singers, with harmony vocals sometimes growing to five parts, as on “Ghost of Glasgow,” which features a pedal-steel solo from Scott. The medley “Old Stone House/Handlebars/Chimney Rock,” which travels from minor-key waltz to high-spirited hoedown, shows off the group’s well-oiled instrumental chops, culminating with a fleet mandolin solo by Mike Guggino. Eleven fine originals, a cover of Robbie Fulks’ “Fare Thee Well, Carolina Gals,” with Dobro by Mike Ashworth, and Scott’s sensibilities add up to an impressive addition to the Rangers’ catalog.
Siblings Ben and Alex Morrison, on guitar and banjo, respectively, formed The Brothers Comatose in San Francisco with bassist Steve Height, violinist Philip Brezina, and mandolinist Greg Fleischut. Their Ear Snacks features cameos by Rainbow Girls (on “Honky Tonk Women”) and Charlie Parr, who delivers a powerful reading of the country gospel “Ain’t No Grave.” Jiebing Chen guests on Tom Petty’s “It’ll All Work Out,” playing erhu, a Chinese two-stringed bowed instrument, and Marty O’Reilly adds sweet Dobro to “My Bucket’s Got A Hole In It,” which segues from its traditional loping pace to a frenetic final chorus.
The program – embracing tunes by Bruce Springsteen, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, Dave Davies, and even Brenton Wood’s ’60s hit “Oogum Boogum” – is too eclectic to term bluegrass or, for that matter, anything else. Maybe this is what is meant by “Hardly Strictly Bluegrass,” like the Bay Area festival they’ve played. Bluegrass or not, it sure is a lot of fun.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
