Sunday, August 10, 2008

Listen to the banjo wind

OK, so if you've been reading this blog much (OK, I know that's not terribly likely), it must be obvious that I think Abigail Washburn is the bomb. It is fair to say that I am enamored with her, from her work with Uncle Earl to her new venture as the Sparrow Quartet.

Over the past several years, much of my pleasure and personal growth, outside of watching my daughters mature into beautiful, intelligent and a bit challenging young women, has come through the evolution of my views on and appreciation of music. That's a bit strange, perhaps, for someone who never made the commitment to become much of a musician. But listening to good music, starting with Bruce Hornsby and beyond into the musical influnces in Hornsby's music, from jazz to hip-hop to pop to bluegrass - has brought a dimension and depth to the music and artistry that interests me, and to the cultural ties and values and character in that music and artistry, which I think help round me out, make me more thoughtful (I'd like to think), and hopefully more interesting.

And so this musical journey has led me to a discovery of other musicians and sounds, to the Camp Meeting-inspired jazz tour through Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett.

And then veering off to the jazz-infused bluegrass banjo of Alison Brown, and the country-bluegrass-American folk singer and violinist Carrie Rodriguez. Carrie's Seven Angels on a Bicycle is a beautiful, lightly produced, intimate album, and her work with Chip Taylor is tremendous. And it turns out that Carrie Rodriguez has a brand new album just released this week, and is the iTunes Discovery Artist of the Week, with a free download of the track "Infinite Night" through tomorrow. Then there's also Patty Griffin's Impossible Dream, and Allison Krauss, and Crooked Still, and Adrienne Young, and Allison Moorer. Either most of the creativity in folk music is by women, particularly with those named a variation of Allison, or there's some particular insight into my id there.

And somewhere in all that came the discovery of Uncle Earl and, as a result, Abigail Washburn. I don't have the vocabulary or musical knowledge to describe her work in any satisfactory way. But if you read this, and haven't had a chance to listen to "Waterloo, Tennessee" with Uncle Earl, or "Song of the Traveling Daughter" (I think I could listen to the deeply moving Red and Blazing for hours on end without tiring of it, yet my wife doesn't understand the appeal of it at all), or her new offering "Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet," you should. The novel mixture - not a fusion, but rather a surprisingly harmonious coexistence - of American bluegrass with Chinese folk music is brilliant and hypnotic and thought provoking.

Yet I'd be dishonest if I didn't also point out that tied up in my pleasure in Abigail Washburn's music is also some jealousy. While I have spent my life letting events guide me from place to place, visionaries like Abigail are capable of seeing and taking new directions, new directions which some may not see or may instead fear. The fear, that is, of the risks of stepping off a well-heeled trail or of the burdens and obligations that would be laid at the feet of others if the new course leads to failure.

Which still leaves an opportunity to explore internally.

And so back to the musical journey, which although seemingly varied and unrelated, is also somehow interconnected and consistent. I've found that not only do my musical interests frequently intersect, but the music seems to intersect with my values and ideals and other interests. Superficially, listening to Abigail singing in Chinese creates interest in reading and adding more depth of meaning to the recent National Geographic issue on China and the ongoing discussion on China in that magazine, as well as James Fallows' monthly dispatches from China in the Atlantic Monthly (which, of course, all ties in nicely with the Beijing Olympics - despite being conflicted between an interest in the Olympic games and Chinese culture, versus a deep concern with Chinese human rights, environmental and political lapses). But the intersection (and introspection) works on much deeper levels, too.

Musically, when Abigail Washburn formed the Sparrow Quartet, combining her banjo playing skills with Bela Fleck, it took me back to the origination of my interest in bluegrass, through Bruce Hornsby, who has had a long and productive relationship with Bela Fleck (the rare Jewish banjo genius). Fleck and Bruce collaborated on a number of Fleck albums, and Fleck appears on White Wheeled Limousine, Barren Ground, Fire on the Cross and perhaps other songs that I cannot recall at the moment. So it seems quite natural and right that my interests in the distinctive musical styles of Abigail Washburn and Bruce Hornsby would intersect, through the connections with Fleck, despite the lack of apparent similarity, since that's where my broader musical voyage began.

And it's not all that surprising, then, that Bruce and Bela and Abigail (not to mention Sam Bush and Arlo Guthrie) all played at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival back in late June (though I don't think Bruce played with Abigail).

And when I learned of Abigail's interest in Tibet and her belief that a long term solution to the political, religious and geographic disputes with China is enhanced by helping to build cultural ties, I was impressed but not entirely surprised that her worldview favors peace and progress through understanding. It is, in a way, another manifestation of the harmonious coexistence that guides her music, an interest in creating a harmonious coexistence of cultures.

And when she says this, and backs it up with a fundraiser performance, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, although it brought a big smile to my face:





"I hope Obama wins. I believe in a better future when I think about him as President."

Harmonious coexistence.



Update: Apparently Newsweek did an article on Abigail Washburn last month. Here it is.