Soulful bluegrass vocalist Greg Blake has a lovely new song to start this new year, a ballad about a West Virginia boy who misses those hills of home.
Bluefield Mountain Wind, written by Mark “Brink” Brinkman and David Stewart, unites Blake, a native West Virginian, with a pair of displaced Mountain Staters joining him on harmony vocals in Tim and Mollie O’Brien.
Greg makes his living these days as guitarist with Special Consensus, but continues to release music on his own. This latest extolls the beauty and tranquility of the mountainous region where western Virginia and West Virginia share a border. The song’s narrator recalls the happy time when he lived along that line, and asks that his body be brought there when he dies.
He recorded it with a group of Nashville superpickers: Andy Leftwich on guitar, mandolin, and fiddle; Scott Vestal on banjo; Josh Swift on reso-guitar; and Darin Vincent on bass.
Check it out…
Bluefield Mountain Wind is available now on Turnberry Records from popular download and streaming services online, and to radio programmers via AirPlay Direct and Get It Played.
There’s something special about holiday traditions, one that all but demands a certain reverence. Nevertheless, when a clever and creative twist is applied to cherished memories, well, suffice it to say, they can bring a certain levity to the situation as well.
That’s apparent in the title alone to a new holiday ditty, Santa Ate A Gummy, courtesy of Tim O’Brien and Ben Winship. The song details Santa’s misadventures when one of his elves offers him a gummy on Christmas Eve after St. Nick complains that a backache might impede his midnight mission. Naturally, the jolly old elf is unfamiliar with this supposed antidote and takes one, hoping for some much needed relief. At that point, a series of unexpected and unfortunate results transpires, causing a great deal of chaos, mischief, and misadventures that turn the normally reliable Mr. Claus into a dumbstruck stoner. He not only gets lost along his route but also gets a severe case of the munchies, not only gobbling up all the treats that have been left for him, but the popcorn strung on the tree, the eggnog in the fridge, and practically anything and everything he can get his gloves on.
Released on Snake River Records and recorded at the Henhouse in Victor, ID, this breezy little number with its catchy chorus has all the makings of becoming a holiday standard, albeit from a somewhat loopy perspective..
“Ben’s an old friend who lives in Victor, Idaho,” O’Brien explained when asked how the song came about. “I met him in 1991 when Charles Sawtelle was producing the first Loose Ties record, and I’ve always liked his soulful music.”
Winship offers his own memories of how the track came to be. “For some reason, the idea and title for this song popped into my head at Christmastime about three years ago,” he recalled. “I sat down to write it, but realized I wouldn’t be able to finish it before the holidays. Who needs a new Christmas song in January? I remembered about it the next year with the same result. Finally, this past summer, I overheard someone say, ‘the best time to write a Christmas song is in July,’ and I decided it was now or never.”
At that point, the song started taking shape. “Tim was game and we got it written fairly quickly during a zoom session,” Winship continued. “I had a couple options for melodies in my head and a handful of lyrics. Tim quickly came up with a chorus melody and had some big picture ideas for the narrative arc that I hadn’t thought of. Once we had that down, we both scribbled away on a bunch of verse ideas which we bounced back and forth. 90% of it was done pretty quickly.”
O’Brien picks up the narrative from there. “I was in touch with Ben in July while looking for a wonderful but obscure recording, and he mentioned the idea of this song, which he’d been wanting to write for the past three years. He said he usually remembered the idea during the holiday season, when it was already too late to release. We both knew Mel Torme wrote Chestnuts[The Christmas Song] in the middle of the summer, so I figured the timing was right. We met on Zoom and sketched most of it out. After a few more tweaks over the next week, it was done. The subject matter was certainly ripe for exploitation.”
O’Brien went on to explain that he overdubbed his vocal at home to a track his friend had started in his studio near Jackson Hole with Phil Round on guitar. The others added their parts and the songs took shape.
“For the recording, I produced it in my studio here in Victor,” Winship noted. “I laid down mandolin, banjo, and harmony vocals, then called upon long time bandmates Eric Thorin on bass, Phil Round on guitar, and Mike Patton on melodica. Tim was game to sing the lead vocal — critical to legitimize the song in my opinion — which he recorded at his place in Nashville. To finish out the track, we employed Tim’s old bandmate from the Ophelia Swing band, Washboard Chaz from New Orleans to play washboard. I then called upon Billy Novick — the amazing clarinet player from Boston who was featured prominently on my Fishing Music CDs — to add the clarinet part.”
Notably, Santa Ate A Gummy wasn’t O’Brien’s first attempt to add some levity to holiday happenstance. “There have been various tracks that came together over the decades,” he added. “They’ve always been for sorta special occasions. Thomm Jutz and I co-wrote a song called Old Christmas Day, that came out two years ago on Howdy Skies Records. Before that was I’ll Be Your Santa Baby. There are tracks by Red Knuckles (That White Christmas Song), Tim and Mollie, and some solo songs on various Sugar Hill holiday releases. I did a track with Shawn Camp called Bah Humbug for the Christmas on the Mountain CD. There’s even a whole record called A Christmas Heritage with Darol Anger, Alison Brown, Mike Marshall, Todd Phillips, and Phil Aaberg. That band came to be known later as Newgrange. I should mention that Ben recorded a nice Christmas collection with Loose Ties called Yule Ties.”
“Soon after finishing the song,” Winship said, “and never having released a single before, I started to muse about ways to promote it. Given the light-hearted goofiness of the song and the imagery, I thought an animation might be a worthy undertaking. I got in touch with Peter Wallis, an artist I know who used to teach animation at my old high school, and he jumped in with both feet. Now it’s a couple weeks away from Christmas and I’m tickled to have both the song and the video out in the world.”
O’Brien explained that this wasn’t the first time the two men had worked together.
“I got to sing and play on a couple of the Fishing Music CDS that Ben and his partner David Thompson released, and on a couple of Ben’s solo tracks,” O’Brien said. “I produced a Loose Ties recording back in 1994. Other than that, our playing has been limited to informal jams on and off stage.”
While Santa Ate a Gummy is sure to add to this year’s fun and festivities, O’Brien noted that he has several “serious” projects in store for the coming year.
“Jan Fabricius and I are releasing a record in the spring called Paper Flowers,” he offered.“We’re excited about playing the new music on tour next year. There are a dozen songs the two of us wrote with Tom Paxton, a couple Jan and I wrote, and one I wrote alone. Before all that happens, Jan and I tour the UK and Ireland January into February, with a couple of very fine traditional Irish players named Dermot Byrne and Seamie O’Dowd. We have four monthly shows with the equally fine Mike Bub and Shad Cobb at the Station Inn starting February 14.”
In addition, O’Brien said he’s also finishing transcriptions of 40 songs that will be included in a songbook Randy Barrett is putting out on his Barcroft imprint. “He put out Ben Eldridge’s banjo book a couple years ago. I now have thirty-five fairly accurate Sibelius lead sheets filed. Today I transcribed a Hot Rize song called Bending Blades.”
Lastly, O’Brien suggests readers check out the video for Our Home, a song he recorded with Bonnie Prince Billy. “Come to think of it, that song’s got some good holiday spirit,” he added.
You can check out all the Christmas bluegrass we have covered at Bluegrass Today by following this link.
Instead of reaching back into Paxton’s deep catalog of songs, Tim and Tom got together with Jan Fabricius to write a new song for this project, hence You Took Me In.
O’Brien shared a bit about how that all came to be.
“Jan and I came of age listening to and then singing Paxton songs before we ever knew his name. We both learned Last Thing on My Mind, and sang it around campfires before we met each other. So like a lot of folks, we kinda have Paxton in our musical DNA.
Tom has been friendly and supportive over the years, and in recent years often expressed his desire to write together. With this project, push came to shove, and Jan and I wrote You Took Me In with Tom on our second session. I had the lyric idea and imagined some Earl Scruggs-style gospel guitar as backing. We had the song in about an hour. When we were done I asked Tom how many songs he’d written that week he said, ‘I’ve written four songs today!’
Paxton’s early songs were the kind that sorta begged audiences to sing along. This one reaches in that direction. I love how simple and direct it is.
Songs are like little puzzles that a certain strata of musicians have fun solving. We’re just honored to sit beside Tom, even if only virtually, as he does his masterful thing. He knows to let the song happen. He can pull a lyric from an instrumental riff, he improvises easily, and you can just trust him. When he says to go higher with the melody or go to the four chord, we’re never afraid to follow.”
The song is a paraphrase of Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew (25:36), describing the many ways one can provide assistance to their fellow man.
Performed in a bluesy gospel style, the song features Tim O’Brien on guitar and lead vocal, with Jan Fabricius on mandolin, Shadd Cobb on fiddle, and Mike Bub on bass. Jan and Shadd add vocal harmonies.
Topic Records has announced a September 29 release for an interesting new project that explores the convergence of British folk music and that of the Appalachian mountains of the southeastern US. It is a joint effort from a pair of ex-pats now living in America, noted English folk artist Martin Simpson, and German born Nashville singer/songwriter Thomm Jutz, entitled Nothing But Green Willow: The Songs of Mary Sands and Jane Gentry.
The genesis of this effort can be found in Thomm’s fascination with the early 20th century publication of English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians, compiled by Cecil Sharp in 1916 and 1918. His primary focus was on the songs Sharp and his assistant Maud Karpeles discovered in North Carolina during their 1916 visit. Their quest had been to find English folk songs that had lost their currency back home, but were still being sung in the US.
Sharp and Karpeles came across Mary Sands and Jane Gentry in western North Carolina who had retained versions of the very songs they had been seeking. Their experiences taught them that these ballads that had all but disappeared back home were still being sung in the Appalachian region.
Jutz interested Simpson in this project, and the two began poring over English Folk Songs, and jointly choosing ones to be included in their upcoming album. With the selections made, they went on to enlist a bevy of contemporary pickers snd singers to join them, with Sierra Hull, Justin Moses, Dale Ann Bradley, Tim Stafford, Tim O’Brien, Tammy Rogers, and Seth Lakeman among them.
A new single from the Nothing But Green Willow, an iconic murder ballad called Edwin in the Lowlands Low. Tim O’Brien is called upon to sing and play fiddle, accompanied by Martin and Thomm.
Jutz says of the song…
“I love that the protagonist here is referred to as ‘Edwin’ in the title, but as ‘Edward’ throughout the song. The quirkiness of these old songs makes most contemporary music taste like stale bread. The violence is astounding, but it’s not used in a ‘shock and awe’ kind of way. These were tough times, but at second glance not that different from today.
I remember listening back to this recording at the session, and how Martin Simpson busted with joy every time Tim hit one of those high vocal notes. Tim is almost 70 but sounds 17. To boot, Tim sang, and played fiddle at the same time. What a guy!”
O’Brien shared Thomm’s appreciation of this ancient song.
“Old folk songs are like myths in that they sorta teach us lessons, as in here’s what happens when you do X in a situation Y. One lesson here is don’t be waving your fat wallet around! Advice to a young suitor is to meet the parents early on.
I love having a little context. Many times I’d driven past the house in Hot Springs, NC where this song was transcribed. It always looked like a nice B&B but now I imagine Jane Gentry, seated on the front porch waving a fan and singing.”
Given his extensive backstory and defining role in the advent of modern bluegrass, it would be hard to confine Tim O’Brien to any particular niche. His early efforts alongside his older sister, Mollie O’Brien, and essential role as a member of the 1980s hit band Hot Rize, established his penchant for abiding by bluegrass tradition, while also helping it to find its populist potential. A versatile multi-instrumentalist who taps guitar, fiddle, banjo, mandolin, mandocello, and bouzouki on stage behind his singing, he never comes up short in terms of varying his tone or treatment.
His accomplishments don’t end there. Hot Rize was IBMA’s first Entertainer of the Year recipient in 1880. In 1993 and 2006, O’Brien was honored by the IBMA as Male Vocalist of the Year. In 2005, he won a Grammy Award for Best Traditional Folk Album for his Fiddler’s Green, and in 2014, he received a Grammy Award for Best Bluegrass Album for his efforts alongside the The Earls of Leicester. The year before, he was inducted into the West Virginia Music Hall Of Fame.
If any further proof of his prowess is needed, it can be found in the fact that he’s released no fewer than two dozen albums over the course of a nearly 50 year career. His latest effort, A Cup Of Sugar, ranks among his most accessible yet, a series of songs shared from personal perspective, often using wildlife as a metaphor.
Bluegrass Today caught up with O’Brien the day before a trip that would take him to London, Prague, the Czech Republic, and finally, to France. Considering the lengthy trip ahead of him it was certainly gracious of Tim to share a little time.
It seems like you’re constantly on on the road. Tim? Do you ever slow down?
I don’t slow that too much. In this case, I’m taking advantage of the fact that I get to travel with my wife to see the sights instead of having to hurry home to her. We work together, and then we’ll we’ll be able to hang out. We’re doing a large festival that’s been going on around 15 years or something. They’ve wanted to have have me and we finally got it worked out. And then we’re able to tie the Prague show in together with it. And so it’’s all working out good.
Do you still enjoy the touring and doing all the traveling?
Well, the traveling can be a grind. And being away from home is kind of a grind. But I’ve learned how to do it, and sort of enjoy it. You have to cultivate that or you’d be miserable all the time. I like going to places we haven’t been before. So that’s great. And we’re gonna go to a classical concert on Tuesday night. I try to make the travel more palatable by making it kind of like a pilgrimage. You study up on the place you’re going, or maybe you’re going back to a place you’ve been and you kind of want to know a little more about it. You revisit things. Then there’s the people you meet, friends who play bluegrass music. They’ll be doing their thing there.
Your new album is really quite wonderful. And it really seems to be resonating with people as well. You said, most of them are animal songs. That song called Bear is particularly poignant in the way it describes a bear coming out of hibernation to find hs entire environment has changed and he doesn’t recognize it anymore.
It’s about how whenyou get to a certain age, and things change, and they seem to be changing faster than you can grasp it. And I’m a little bit like that. So there’s a whole bunch of stuff about that. There’s dancing bears over in Eastern Europe. I was reading about them, and they have a home over there for retired dancing bears. And then Russia has always been referred to as a bear, and now Putin feels like people are pushing his back to the wall and stuff. I don’t agree with anything Putin is doing, but I have to say, I can sympathize with that idea. He feels like people are trying to negate his existence or Russia’s existence. I don’t think that’s really true. I think it’s propaganda. But anyway, that song is kind of like that. But I hesitate to even bring all that up. It’s just mostly a fun song to sing. Recently there was a bear that sort of got lost in Nashville and couldn’t find his way out of suburbia for a while. That kind of stuff happens. The natural world and the supposedly civilized city world are continually crashing up against each other more and more.
There’s obviously some whimsical quality to that song. I had fun with it. I’ve been thinking about making a whole record of animal songs. So I kind of mixed it up. It’s kind of about overall things — a little bit about getting older, and kind of kind of wondering where you fit in. But also, like in the case of Little Lamb, Little Lamb, it’s about the fact that I’m a grandpa, and I like seeing these little newborns coming around. It makes me feel like I’m still part of things. And also, it’s just reassuring that this thing called life will keep going on.
So in general, where do you find your muse? When you think about a new project, do you look at them conceptually? Or do you kind of put them together song by song?
Sometimes it’s like you’re building a frame, creating a concept, as in the case of my Dylan album, Red On Blonde. You pick the songs that work good with a bluegrass instrumentation. The album called The Crossing was one where I had the idea of the tie between Ireland and the United States as it pertains to American folk music, and especially as far as Appalachian music and Irish music having a lot of common roots. So once I started building the frame and imagining songs that already existed, I started writing songs and getting inspired by that connection. So just the act of doing it can show you the way you can sort of hit down a trail. And then you go, “Oh, well, I don’t know, there’s a crossroads here. I’ll go this way.”
And then you go that way, and then you go another way, and eventually you know which way to go. Then you get to another fork in the road and pretty soon, you’ve kind of arrived at your task, your subject, and it starts tightening up. It’s not as easy as all that. But it’s sort of like that. I kind of wander into it, mostly.
You’ve won so many awards and achieved such an esteemed status, not just within bluegrass, but really, in the whole of the Americana genre. Does any of that work in reverse, where it kind of weighs on you? You think… wow, I’ve got to uphold my standard and hold myself to account so I don’t let the fans down. Not that you ever would, of course.
I’ve definitely changed as time has gone on. Now I’m more of a songwriter, more of a singer, whereas I started out was an instrumentalist and I was just trying to fit in. I got the gig with Hot Rize and I never planned to be a lead singer. But it taught me about songs. It showed me I had to pick the songs that I liked. And after you’ve sung them a lot, you start to understanding why they’re really good. And that helps you write songs.
As you’re studying music and stuff, the history of it, we learn more and more, and then it gives you direction. It’s hard to not repeat yourself, and sometimes you just can’t keep up. I can’t come up to the standards, but I think I can do other things. So I just try to keep it going. It’s mostly just about enjoying it. Plus, they let me do it.
Aside from being a pretty remarkable multi instrumentalist, you certainly have had success with your songwriting. You had a top ten hit with Kathy Mattea, The Battle Hymn of Love.
Some artists can just write songs, and that’ll be their thing. But I’ve always diversified. I’ll do some sessions for different people, playing instrumental parts, and singing harmony, whatever.Ijust kind of keep moving, kind of like a shark. I gotta keep moving, or I’ll die.
Your wife, Jan Fabricius, performs with you now, accompanying you on mandolin. When did the two of you meet? And when did y’all start performing together? It wasn’t that long ago, was it?
No, it wasn’t that long ago. We started dating like maybe twelve years ago. And then we started living together ten years ago, and we got married two years ago. So soon after we started living together, I’d be writing songs, and then she started singing harmony. She’d be singing on the demo, and then, as we’re making the record, she’s singing on there too. She’d play a mandolin, and then we sort of work up to songs. She’s also playing the mandolin in the band. It’s just sort of been very gradual, but very natural. It’s interesting kind of how it started, but now we’re writing songs together. So that’s pretty cool.
So out of curiosity, when you work so closely with your spouse, and you’re on the road with them, how does the work cross over into your domestic life? If you have a little squabble, and then you have to walk out on stage together, how do you resolve that? Some people might have trouble reconciling the two.
Well, you gotta look at it. Realistically. Maybe you get into a little spat, but, you know, we love the music. And so we don’t let that get in the way. It’s usually a learning thing. We have an argument, a little spat, but you just kind of figure out what it’s all about. You learn how to live together. It’s not all it’s not all fun and games, but generally it’s a really great thing to have your spouse around, and it’s like the people we know inspire us by their music and by their by their lives and that helps us write songs.
That’s a great way of looking at things.
We’ve been writing songs with Tom Paxton, which is really fun. He’s 86 and still fired up about it. He’s crazy about writing songs. And he loves Zoom. He said, “Zoom changed my life.” He said the pandemic happened, and all of a sudden he could connect with people he always wanted to write with, and all of a sudden, there was a new way, and now, even better way than it ever has been. So we do these Zoom calls. We’re usually doing them monthly, on Wednesdays, but he’s off running around somewhere now. It’s great to be learning from him, that’s for sure.
There’s a very funny song on the new album — She Can’t, He Won’t, And They’ll Never. You mentioned that it’s based on a real life couple you and Jan visited, and you documented their domestic discord in a very funny way. Did the couple that you wrote about hear hear the song and make any remark about it?
Not really. But their situation did inspire the title. There’s a lot of people in that same situation, so yeah, it’s definitely relatable in that sense.
You kind of define your own life through your music.
If you’re an artist, then that’s what you have to offer to the world and if you’re into it, you want to do your best. So that part of it with an audience, is an exciting thing. It’s a communication thing, and of all their attention kind of heats you up. It’s like a magnifying glass.
So when did you know that this was going to be your life calling, and equally important, also know that you could make a living out of it, that it was going to be a serious pursuit?
You can sort of predict your future by looking at the past a little bit. I could see that the audience was growing after two or three years. I just kept meeting people early on, so I knew I could sort of probably make enough money to get by. But I didn’t know what format would take, or if I had my own voice or anything. That was maybe more like eight or ten years into it. This year will mark 50 years from the time I gave up the idea of going to college and living in West Virginia. I moved away because I was trying to become a musician. I moved to Wyoming and ended up working as a ski bum, and I played in bars and met other musicians. But I ended up in Colorado soon after that, and that was a different kind of college. I learned a lot from that community.
So when I got with Hot Rize, that was like we were all going to graduate school. We’re all learning how to be a band and how to start a business, and I did that for a dozen years, and then went out on my own. But I kind of knew when Hot Rize was starting that I was in it for the long haul.
Has there ever been any thought about any more Hot Rize reunions?
I had pretty much decided I didn’t want to do it anymore. But then they asked us to do the 50th annual RockyGrass festival. So I said, “Well, that’s a great excuse for us to get together and to pay tribute back to the community.” I’m not saying we won’t ever do anything again, but I’m not looking for that to happen.
You seem to be a very upbeat optimistic guy, as referenced by the title of your record label, Howdy Skies Records. It’s also evidenced by the way you’re always seeking to climb new plateaus and writing these wonderful songs. You keep things fresh and vibrant. It brings a great sense of anticipation to everything you have to offer.
Well, I believe that the world is a fascinating place, and its music is one of just one of those fascinating things. It’s another art form that reflects what’s going on. And so the ability to sort of just lay it out there and let people take a gander at something, when they’re listening to a song and wherever they are — especially if they’re in a venue where they’ve come through the door with the intention of listening, dancing, or whatever — there’s a communication there. They let their guard down, and you just sort of let people observe what you’ve observed.
And a good song or a good performance are where you find that common ground. A lot of songs that I hear and that love, I can identify with them. I can see myself in the song, or I can relate to it. It’s so real. They’re like nice little poems, with little nice words and some music. It sort of takes on a life of its own and it supports some kind of communication. It’s so mysterious. It’s just draws people to it.
I know there are some people that don’t really care about music. They just don’t have the ear for it, or whatever. But for the people that do, it’s essential their lives.
One of the foremost figures within current bluegrass realms, Tim O’Brien holds true to his standing with what may well be his best effort yet. Personable and pleasing, it finds humor, happiness, and happenstance embossed in each of these offerings, courtesy of astute observations that relate to everyday circumstance. Regardless of the subject — be it a bear that emerges from hibernation to find his habitat razed (Bear), a fish that simply wants to swim while avoiding a fisherman’s hook (Thinkin’ Like a Fish), a somewhat eccentric next-door neighbor (Cup of Sugar), or a couple’s domestic disputes (She Can’t, He Won’t, And They’ll Never), O’Brien’s seemingly effortless approach allows for an instantly infectious set of songs, all of which are underscored by a consistently easy and affable delivery.
To be sure, O’Brien’s not alone in this effort. A superb cast of topnotch musicians lend their support. Wife Jan Fabricius shares vocals and mandolin, while selected songs feature drummers Jamie Dick and Paul Burch, bassists Dennis Crouch and Mike Bub, Thom Jutz on guitar, Shad Cobb on fiddle, Richie Stearns and Cory Walker playing banjo, Russ Pahl contributing steel guitar, keyboards courtesy of Mike Rojas, and, especially notably, vocals and guitar from Del McCoury. Jutz, Ronnie Bowman, Jonathon Byrd, Shawn Camp, and Chris and Donnie Davison assist with the songwriting, further ensuring a captivating and compelling encounter throughout.
In that regard, Cup of Sugar becomes an instantly accessible offering, one that ought to find a wide audience courtesy of its effortless embrace of contemporary bluegrass. There’s no end to its insights, with songs such as Little Lamb Little Lamb, Goodbye Old Friend, and Let the Horses Run delving deeply into a sense of shared humanity through resilience and resolve. In short, there’s something for everyone to admire and enjoy, which makes this particular Cup of Sugar as sweet and delicious as its name implies.
Anyone who’s followed the career of Tim O’Brien knows that he has a terrific sense of humor. From the earliest days of Hot Rize, when most of us first encountered Tim, we were treated to his extra dry wit, both as himself on stage, and in the guise of his alter ego, Red Knuckles.
But like all great cutups, there is a cleverness behind the japes, some wisdom in the jokes. What made the whole Red Knuckles & The Trailblazers routine so effective in the ’80s was that while they were playing cartoonish characters, the music was real and well executed, as was their obvious love for the genre they lampooned so joyfully.
We see that same sort of whimsy in Tim’s new music video, the last single before next month’s release of his latest album, Cup of Sugar. Bear is one O’Brien has written, with something of a silly premise, though revealing some basic truths in its wake.
Tim shared a bit about it all came about…
“The songs for Cup of Sugar started with Bear. It was December of 2021, and the news was all about Russia and would Putin invade Ukraine. I had just read a book on the history of dancing bears. White Nationalism was a prominent topic, the flip side being Black Lives Matter. Trump had lost the election but was ramping up his spoiled brat act. I could imagine the gripes Putin, Trump, and the White Nationalists had, even if I didn’t agree.
I’d also reread some of a favorite book by Rafi Zabor: The Bear Goes Home. In the plot this guy in NYC wins a dancing bear in a card game, and after he gets busted trying to busk with it, he leaves the bear in his flat during work. One day he comes home and the bear’s talking and playing clarinet. The bear becomes a jazz sensation but he’s also the ultimate outsider.
So I was thinking about all that. I think the bear represents anyone or any social group that feels their world has changed too much while they weren’t looking. The bear comes out of his cave in spring and all the trees are cut down. He’s just pissed off. ‘I’m a bear,’ he cries, ‘but damn it, I’m more than that.’
I can identify with the bear because I’m old. I don’t relate to a lot of new stuff and while I do fairly well in spite of all the changes, sometimes I’ll swear at them.”
The video mixes images and clips as Tim sings in the voice of the titular ursine character. O’Brien is on guitar and lead vocal, with support from Richie Stearns on banjo, Dennis Crouch on bass, and Paul Burch on drums. Tim and Jan Fabricius provide harmony vocals.
Have a look/listen…
Bear will available as a single on May 12 from popular download and streaming services online. Radio programmers will find the track now at AirPlay Direct.
Cup of Sugar is set for wide release on June 16 from Howdy Skies Records.
Irish-born bluegrass and Americana vocalist Danny Burns has chosen the definitive Irish ballad, Danny Boy, for the final single from his upcoming Bonfire Music Group album, Promised Land.
We’ve likely all heard dozens of versions of this timeless classic, with lyrics that date back more than 100 years paired with a ancient folk tune. For his grass-inflected cut, Danny says he took an unexpected inspiration.
“I’ve always loved the Johnny Cash rendition of Danny Boy from the American recordings with Rick Rubin. I started singing this song with a pedal steel player a few years back at a show at the House of Blues in Cleveland, and it went over really well, so I thought I’d work out my own version. Then I got Tim O’Brien to cut it over at Neal Cappellino’s studio in Nashville. Tim’s singing on this, and it just made me weep.”
To give it a touch of grass, they didn’t speed up the song, but added a subtle banjo from Scott Vestal burbling in the background, with emotive fiddle from Billy Contreras over Tony Wray’s guitar and Ethan Burkhardt’s bass. It’s very effective in offering a new side to this familiar ode to longing.
The video nicely captures the poignancy and spirit of the song, and why it has long animated a sadness in the Irish who have left their island home to make a life elsewhere.
Here’s another special song, just in time for Easter.
This one’s from Tim O’Brien, recorded with his touring band, called Little Lamb Little Lamb. Tim uses the metaphor of a new born lamb to discuss the contrasts between the frolics of youth and the trials of adulthood.
With O’Brien on guitar and lead vocal, support comes from Jan Fabricius on mandolin, Cory Walker on banjo, Shad Cobb on fiddle, and Mike Bub on bass.
Tim tells us that this one came to him in a flash, with its insights into the aging process.
“As George Jones sang, ‘the seasons come, the seasons go.’ Spring has always suggested new beginnings, but having just marked my 69th birthday, it has a different impact on me. I’m still plowing new ground as a musician, planting seeds and all, but maybe my steps are a little slower, and I’m aiming for a better yield from a smaller garden.
This song fell out quickly one morning about a year ago. It’s a very simple, repeating melody and chord progression, and the lyric sneaks up on the profundity of the circle of life in an easy going way. Sometimes I’m wary when a song comes this easily. I ask myself if it’s any good. But I kept wanting to sing it and I’ve learned to trust that, like I trust that the sun will rise, spring will come, and there are always new possibilities.
This track features my regular touring band. Jan and I state the basic melody with our guitar and mandolin parts, while Cory and Shad’s parts are like new shoots reaching for sunlight. Bub’s bass is what I call ‘nothin’ but right.'”
The clever video mixes live performance of the band with Irish lambs at play. Have a look/listen…
Little Lamb Little Lamb is the first peak at Tim’s next album, Cup of Sugar, which releases on June 16 on Howdy Skies Records. Pre-orders are enabled online.
Tim and the band will be touring from later this month right up to the release date of Cup of Sugar, which they will preview at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival in June.
Mountain Fever Records has release a debut single today from their upcoming project with banjoist Cory Walker. The album is entitled School Project, which those who known Cory from his active social media presence will recognize as a common theme, especially on Facebook.
A Florida native who been playing since his pre-teen years, Cory lives in Nashville these days, where he plays with East Nash Grass, and with David Grier, the Tim O’Brien Band, The Dillards, and Jason Carter. He is also an active studio musician, appearing on recordings by a number of bluegrass artists.
Cory grew up around bluegrass with a father who played actively. Both he and his brother became quite skilled as teens, with both now pursuing the music professionally. This first single is one that his brother co-wrote, who plays mandolin with Billy Strings.
Walker explains…
“My brother, Jarrod, and mutual good friend, Christian Ward, are truly some of the greatest writers today. When I first heard a demo recording of Far Away Again, I knew I wanted to ask Tim O’Brien to sing it on my record. Tim said he dug it. Soon afterward, we recorded it at Stargel Studios. Musicians on the track include Tim O’Brien on vocals and guitar, Dennis Crouch on bass, Harry Clark on mandolin, Billy Contreras on fiddle, Gaven Largent on resonator guitar, and myself on banjo.”
Jarrod and Christian were the writers of the 2022 IBMA Song of the Year, Red Daisy, recorded by Billy Strings.
