It is considered by many to be the National Anthem of Bluegrass. Every good bluegrass band keeps it in its repertoire because it knows that all music fans, bluegrass or not, love the song. Every budding banjo player MUST learn it along the way, most playing it nuance-for-nuance like Earl. Flatt and Scruggs re-recorded it in the 1960s for the movie Bonnie and Clyde. The song fit the film perfectly.
However, it is the original 1949 recording for Mercury Records that true bluegrass fans adhere to. While the duo recorded a similar song “Bluegrass Breakdown” with Bill Monroe, Earl wanted one that defined the Foggy Mountain Boys. A change in chord structure and more emphasis on the banjo work made this song more popular as well as a bluegrass standard.
The arrangement is perfect – banjo solos for a few breaks, fiddle solo changes it up, then back and forth one more time until we end with the banjo wrapping it up with a “shave and a haircut” outro. No bridges or changes in keys. The G to Em chord change (although the tuning on this recording makes it sound more like it is in the key of G#) catches the listener’s ear. In this particular recording, Earl truly sounds like he knows what he is doing, yet it sounds improvised in many ways. You don’t really “hear” the rest of the band, you FEEL them! Lester’s rhythm guitar is more like a brush on a snare drum and hi-hat, until the end of each verse when his trademark G-run can be made out. The upright bass is definitely felt more than heard, but if it weren’t there, there would be a lot less drive to the song. Also, Earl only does two counts of lone banjo intro before the band kicks in. Usual arrangements give the banjo a full four counts. It makes one think that the band was caught off-guard with his playing right away. However, it sounds fantastic! Two minutes and forty seconds of pure energy!
What makes it unique is that it was recorded the way all recordings were done back then — with one microphone and the band standing around it, all the while maneuvering back and forth to let the soloist get closest to the mic. You can close your eyes and literally see them dancing around each other to get to the mic. That is the charm of the recording – everyone knowing his job to get the best recording possible. Recording engineering was in its youth. Studio engineers were more scientists than music aficionados. The mic went into a very primitive mixer, which was then wired into the cutter, which cut the music directly onto a wax disc. Any big mistake meant having to do the whole thing over again. Minor mistakes were often ignored as long as the results were satisfactory.
I also prefer this version over the 1960s version because it is so raw and untouched. The later version adds harmonica and other studio tricks to make it sound professional. The original version is just the band doing what they do best – performing live!
Which leads to listening to this particular recording. With the chord changes from G to Em and back, sometimes the guitar and bass go four counts on the Em, sometimes six counts. Occasionally the guitar goes fout counts while the bass stays on the E for six. Because the banjo and fiddle are so up-front, it really isn’t noticeable to the casual listener. However, it does tell a lot about how wild it must have been to first record this great song and everyone being slightly in his own world for a few moments. Today, most bands are pretty much sticklers to the four counts of Em, but I have always loved the six-count, as it makes the sone a lot less “pop” and more “rock.”
Yes, one could say that this is a precursor to rock-and-roll music, especially the emphasis on instrumental solos having short breaks to mix the overall song up a bit. There were tons of recordings of instrumental songs prior to this, but most stuck with simple arrangements – the soloist sticking to mimicking either the vocals or the main instrument, usually the fiddle. Here, Earl goes off on his own, creating breakneck-speed solos that could not be easily duplicated. The banjo rolls were innovative to say the least. Bill Monroe knew this when he had Earl join the Blue Grass Boys in 1945, and Lester and Earl knew how to make it a power to be reckoned with by 1949.
I have always loved this recording, but really knew how important and great it was a few years back. Eddie Stubbs was DJ-ing one of his late-night shows on WSM, and on the anniversary of the song’s 1949 recording, he played it on the air, then followed up with the statement, “Are there any questions?”. That to me says it all.
Chew on it and comment.
Luegra 