Bluegrass Nirvana

 Dave Propst - Darren Beachley - Mike Munford. 

(Warren Blair and Steve Streett are 

to the left and out of camera-range)

24 August 2013: Westminster, Maryland

       It sounds so 80's man, yeah. I found my bluegrass Nirvana this past Saturday. I like to skip that stuff and call it Mount Olympus. I've always been more of a classicist than a New Age guy. I'm continually intrigued by how quickly Yoga has become the new religion among a lot of my peers. Or call it religion du jour. Like every day new food threats,  (don't eat this, don't eat that) Yoga will be supplanted in five more years with a new religion du jour.  Maybe some techno-based form of internet Taoism. We are suffering through nothing more than what the Victorians had to endure every summer when they flocked to the new "Chautauqua" on the lake-fronts and picnic grounds of New York state or other New England camp grounds. They would gather to hear about new philosophies, the latest trends, or a new religion. The women would be treated to Victorian fashion shows and lectures on the evils of their husband's drinking and smoking habits. The weird thing is, this is how the upwardly mobile of that age spent their vacations - and enjoyed it. Now we're blasted every minute of the day with the insidiousness of the digital revolution. Too much information. Too much information. My own search for a purer form of bluegrass music is really no different. Except that my search wants to take me back (probably) to a gathering of the bluegrass gods that will never happen - ever again.
     
        There is a  near-religious purity to this music when it's presented in precisely the right way. When you hear it and when it's experienced by an audience that knows how to listen to it maybe a loud unanimous shout will go up into the air, or maybe, just a gathering of old-timers nodding their heads. First to he musicians, and then to each other. The beauty of the experience is this:  you'll never have it very often. Like an epiphany, you have to be ready and willing to be open to its possibilities. I'm like an addict. I want more and more of a good thing. I try to be as available as possible - to the possible. You never know in this business who might be on their way to Mount Olympus. I'm fortunate. I know some of those people. Their names mean nothing right now to the public at large. But you'll hear their names twenty or thirty years hence.  They'll reach the top of their artistic game and wonder why and how they got there. On the way, they're busy working, paying their dues and putting up with a lot of crap. More than anything else, they are defining their futures in the here and now.

       I'll set the stage for you:  It's a Thursday night in Westminster, Maryland, a beautifully cool, August night and one of my favorite bands (The Martin Brothers and Aspen Run) is playing at The Stables Restaurant on Old Westminster Pike. The band is great - pulling out all the stops on all the old hillbilly standards. There's a dancing crowd and local folks are out having fun. The band is promoting a recently-released new CD, Steve Unkart is belting out "Wild Bill Jones" and the crowd is going nuts. Herb Martin wants me to meet someone, but before the introduction is even made the guy reaches out his hand and says, "Yeah Ed! I'm Rob Miller."

       We talked. We had a very interesting conversation. The kind of conversation I've had with other true-believers. They get this crazed look in their eyes when they start talking about the current state of bluegrass music or the past state of bluegrass music. Marvin Ashby has that crazed look. Brett Smeltzer has it bad. Doug Ross should probably be on some sort of medication for his. Dempsey Price needs to be locked up for his bluegrass addiction. I'd heard about Rob Miller and what he's been doing for a while now up in Westminster, Maryland. Word gets around. He runs a concert series called the "Reunion." He's resurrecting all the old bands and old players who contributed to the historical significance of Maryland's rich field of bluegrass - Maryland Style. It all happens in a place everyone knows as "Rob's Barn." I had already been invited to the next 'gathering' but Rob reinforced the invitation to "come and check the place out." I was tired of driving that week. I didn't need another night out. The show he wanted me to attend included musicians I knew, and I had seen,  playing by themselves or with other configurations of players. I had seen all of them, at different places, a lot. They were the Cream of the Crop. The Creme de La Creme. If you wanted a "Maryland Ambassadors Team of Maryland Bluegrass" this would be it. I finally couldn't refuse any longer. The more I thought about it, the more I thought if I miss this I may be missing one of the best bluegrass moments in 2013. A day and half later I was driving back up to Westminster to get the full Rob's Barn experience.

       I don't know anything about all this fantasy football, basketball, or baseball stuff. Actually, I'm the worst sports fan because I ignore sports. Everyone laughs at my great lack of knowledge of sports. The fantasy thing is dreaming up a team or something like that. I don't know. I have no interest in what they're talking about. But if it applied to bluegrass, then the fantasy team showed up this past weekend at Rob's Barn. Imagine this line-up on stage: Darren Beachley, Dave Propst, Mike Munford, Warren Blair, and Steve Streett. If most of these names are unfamiliar to you it's because you're not from around here or maybe you're not really into bluegrass. When I say you're not from around here I'm referring to west of the Rocky Mountains. When I accuse you of not really being into bluegrass I do so because you may not be familiar with the common knowledge that Maryland, and especially the Baltimore area produces some of the best bluegrass music in the U.S. There are regions that used to. There are regions that still do. There are regions that used to and now bluegrass music is a dead entity, like a calf's heart stuck in a jar full of formaldehyde up on a museum shelf. You have to hand it to bluegrass true believers like Rob Miller. There was once a traditional music mecca called the Friendly Inn and every Maryland Bluegrass Great played there. There was a band called "Line Drive" who played there to capacity crowds. It was the early 90's. Friendly's closed up and all the great players moved on to other bands and other venues. True Believers still talk about all the magic moments that happened at the Friendly Inn. On this particular night Rob Miller is re-uniting Line Drive. The place is packed with a lot of the people who remember the Friendly Inn.

       The old Friendly Inn sign is hanging up on the stage and it makes the perfect backdrop for the return of these guys - but in actuality, they never left Maryland's vibrant bluegrass scene. They all just moved up several notches in their showmanship and musicianship. These are working musicians who've played with the best. Dave Propst is working nearly every night and every weekend- somewhere. I don't have to say anything about Darren Beachley that hasn't already been said. Warren Blair continues to amaze with his work schedule and flexibility between vocals and fiddling. Just when you're about ready to get sick of hearing  Stanley or Monroe tunes, Warren throws in "San Antonio Rose" to shake up the mix. And then there's Mike Munford - probably one of THE best banjo-pickers in the world. IBMA is finally acknowledging his value; his talent. The irony of the "best" award, if he gets it this year, is, we've all known this for a long time. Nobody in the mid-Atlantic bluegrass belt needs an introductory lecture on Mike Munford. The newest guy on the block Steve Streett (Bass) lives in the York, Pa area and has been playing the Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Delaware circuit for years with Baltimore Bluegrass and a lot of other fine musicians. Quiet and reserved (until you discover his sense of humor) Steve's beautiful vocal-renderings were called upon several times for the performance. I'm always shocked when the quiet member of any group steps up to the plate - and then makes everybody's jaws drop in amazement. Darren Beachley drove the show. He usually does. Darren expects the best out of his stage-mates and he usually gets it in spades. People who don't know bluegrass wouldn't have a clue as to what Darren was doing up on the stage. He never sounded better or smoother. Considering the work schedules of these guys I doubt if they practiced much for this evening. It was obvious to all they didn't have to. The audience there that evening knew it was Darren being Darren at his best. Being former military, I call it excellent leadership. Getting the best out of what you've been given. Darren's level of professionalism separates the men from the boys; the pro's from the poseurs. The barn that night was packed. The excitement was high. I knew I was in for an experience I may never have again.

       The show started at 8:30. I don't even think you can classify what happens at the Barn as a show. More like an intimate evening to sit around with old friends and hear some good music. This is what I truly appreciated. The listeners were there to listen. Once the music started every ounce of attention was glued on this unique gathering of musicians. The Barn was packed with an audience that spilled out into and under a 60-ft. tent. There was food before and after, provided by an audience-generated pot luck system. Rob Miller wants to provide a well-regulated party atmosphere for folks who appreciate traditional bluegrass. It's a very simple premise that somehow seems to work successfully. Thirty-one songs later the evening wound down toward going-home time. Two encores. Three rounds of standing ovations. Everybody in the audience saying to each other "We've got to do this again." Sadly, that may never happen. These guys are working too much. Their schedules just happened to come together like the alignment of the planets for this particular date. It was an event - in the truest sense of the word. I left wishing that every bluegrass moment could be like this. We all know life isn't like that. The good things happen only once in a while and sometimes we're lucky enough to be there when it happens.

Coming soon:  Rob's Barn and The Friendly Inn Connection.