PDF Booklet - Stefan Grossman`s Guitar Workshop
Transcription
PDF Booklet - Stefan Grossman`s Guitar Workshop
LEGENDS OF FLATPICKING GUITAR by Mark Humphrey If you had been learning guitar in your grandpa’s time, you might have bought a method book for ‘plectrum style guitar.’ The Latin-rooted plectrum (‘to strike’) sounded high-handed to country guitarists, who preferred to speak of straight picks or flatpicks (as opposed to the curved variety worn on the thumb for Carter-style strumming or Travis-style fingerpicking). Flatpicking came to describe a genre of guitar playing in the early 1970s, about the time the four men featured in this video started being widely noticed. And it is a genre they defined: guitarists of every ilk from grunge rock to trad jazz play with flatpicks, but they tend not to be called flatpickers. It is tribute to the dazzling instrumental skill of Doc Watson, Tony Rice, Norman Blake and Dan Crary that they not only defined this relatively recent development in American traditional music; their facility with a simple piece of plastic (or nylon or tortoise shell) became the adjective for a school of guitar. The music played on this video isn’t only about flatpicking, of course. “Beyond technique are some deeper essentials of musicianship,” Tony Rice once noted in a Frets magazine column (Frets, April 1985). “Music is mainly communication...Doc Watson and Dan Crary could both play the exact same notes of the same tune, yet sound totally different.” For demonstration purposes, check their disparate versions of ‘the flatpickers national anthem,’ Black Mountain Rag, on this video. Both are expressions of distinctly individual personalities, as is every other note played on this video. Hot licks abound, but behind them is a focused skill of communication through music, which, whatever the genre, is the reason we honor such artists as ‘legends.’ 2 3 Photo by Axel Küstner DOC WATSON Photo by Axel Küstner While flatpicks and guitars had been meeting for a long time before Doc Watson came along, he endowed that relationship with a fresh zest. Audiences who heard his 1963 Newport Folk Festival debut were stunned by Doc’s facility. “In the early 1960s,” Dan Crar y told Art Coats (Pickin’, February 1975), “guitar and folk music were pretty much somebody on a nylon-stringed guitar doing some groovy strums. And all of a sudden here comes Watson playing all this beautiful, clean, driving stuff with a flatpick. People were literally on the floor gasping for breath.” The ever modest Doc is quick to point to such predecessors as George Shuffler, who flatpicked fleet lead lines with the Stanley Brothers, and Don Reno, best remembered for his extraordinary banjo skills but also a fine flatpick style guitarist. But Doc reached ears the bluegrass musicians simply did not. “Doc has revolutionized flatpicking,” Ralph Rinzler, Doc’s discoverer, once remarked. “He has his own style, and you can hear it coming out in other guitarists who imitate him. Doc has set more fingers picking than anybody except maybe Chet Atkins, Maybelle Car ter and Merle Travis.” Arthel ‘Doc’ Watson’s life is something of a Horatio Alger story. His ‘triumph over adversity’ tale opens in 1923; Doc is of the generation of Americans who grew up during the lean years of the Depression. Deep Gap, North Carolina 4 wasn’t exactly prosperous in the best of times, and Doc’s difficult conjunction of time and place was exacerbated by his being blinded in infancy. But working to his advantage was a large and loving family in which music was a constant presence. His parents’ singing, his brothers’ banjo playing and fiddling, and his own boyhood experiments with the harmonica and “everything that had a musical tone” set the stage for Doc’s later success. The arrival of a Victrola in the Watson home when Doc was six provided a further catalyst: the fascinating contraption evoked such influential voices as those of the Car ter Family, who first gave Doc the incentive to take up the guitar. “I started off playing with a thumb lead, Maybelle Car ter style,” Doc told Jon Sievert (Frets, Vol. 1 No. 1, arch 1979). “Then when I began to listen to Jimmie Rodgers I figured out there was something being done there besides the thumb and finger. So I got me a pick and started working on it.” Doc picked and sang for a time with his brother Linney, imitating the then popular sounds of the Monroe and Delmore Brothers. By age 18, Doc was playing with bands on local radio broadcasts as well as for tips on the streets. “People who heard me on the street invited me to come to amateur contests and fiddlers’ conventions,” Doc told Siever t. “I did win some contests, and I remember one time I entered once in the professional category and won it. That really helped my ego.” Word of Doc’s talent spread. In 1953 he began a stint as lead electric guitarist with Tennessee pianist Jack Williams, playing ever ything from square dance tunes to rockabilly. “The hardest chore I got into with that group was playing the lead fiddle tunes for square dancing,” Doc told Sievert. “I got a lot of technical practice with the flatpick during those years. It helped build my knowledge of using the flatpick enormously.” By the time Ralph Rinzler and Eugene Earle discovered Doc in 1960, the 37-year-old part time piano tuner had developed an extensive repertoire and commanding instrumental skills for expressing it. Rinzler has described Doc’s discovery as ‘serendipitous,’ for the timing coincided perfectly with the burgeoning folk revival. Stylistically, Doc fit midway between the rediscovered ‘old timers’ such as Clarence Ashley who excited the folklorists and young campus favorites like Joan Baez who were then still performing 5 Photo by Peter Figen traditional songs. Doc grew up with the ‘old time’ tradition but had developed exciting new ways to express it. Within a decade of his discovery a whole school of guitarists were eagerly following his example. How did Doc feel about that? “You hear somebody play a lick that I figured out,” Doc told Joe Wilson (Sing Out! Vol. 29/No. 1), “it makes you just as proud as can be. You think, well, somebody likes what I do. A lot of people are jealous, but I figure if he learns too many of my licks I’ll figure out some harder ones. Earl Scruggs said the same thing. He said that lots of people in the music business felt like somebody was stealin’ corn from their crib. He said, ‘If I can’t do it better than the people who copy me, I’m awantin’ know-how.’” As for transmitting know-how, Doc believes a lot has to do with the quality of the receiver. “A person’s born with the talent to play music,” Doc told Joe Wilson and Jean Stewart. “Ain’t no use in beatin’ around the bush to say anybody can learn to play the guitar when you know they can’t either...Some people learn it mechanically but I’m sure you’ve heard people play that sounded mechanical.” On another occasion Doc told Michael Brooks (Guitar Player, July/August 1972): “There’s more than just technique go6 ing into the music. You have to feel it as well. If the picker’s personality isn’t expressed in the picking technique, there’s something missing.” But technical command surely marches in tandem with musical expression. “When you start out,” Doc suggested to Brooks, “you’ve got to learn to develop an even stroke so that you can play the same clean picking stroke on the string coming up as you do picking down. And syncopations are impor tant too, like [mandolinist] Jesse McReynolds...When you’re beginning the guitar, don’t feel bad about practicing a few scales because, using an even up-and-down stroke, there’s no better way to develop the flatpicking technique than to learn a few of the easier scales on the guitar and practice those until you can speed them up.” Though Doc spawned a whole school of flatpicking guitarists, he has never felt that his disciples should remain imitators of Doc Watson. Advising a young admirer who had a handful of Doc’s arrangements worked out, Doc told him: “Son, when you learn to play those without missing a note, begin to think of some things that you want to add to them or some of my things that you want to take out and replace with some stuff of your own.” Doc’s performances here, ably assisted by his late son Merle and Jack Lawrence, show not only his influential instrumental facility but also his warm vocals and winning way with everything from pop chestnuts (Bye Bye Blues) to fiddle tunes (the flatpickers’ national anthem, Black Mountain Rag). Along with their musical strengths these performances are richly imbued with a quality Ralph Rinzler described in his 1964 Sing Out! profile of Doc as a “forthright honesty that pervades his approach to life in all aspects.” 7 TONY RICE Photo by Axel Küstner “It’s the same with musicians as with instruments,” Tony Rice once told Mark Hunter (Frets, April 1980). “As they play longer, it sounds richer. The sounds of experience.” Tony’s enriching experience has spanned a lifetime of playing in such influential ensembles as J.D. Crowe and the New South, the David Grisman Quintet, and his own Tony Rice Unit. A seminal figure in the birth of ‘new acoustic’ music in the 1970s, Tony has reaffirmed his abiding love for traditional sounds in duet recordings with Ricky Skaggs and Norman Blake. “I have influences from the bluegrass, jazz and folk worlds,” Tony told Hanson, “but I try to put my own stamp on what I do.” And that stamp is unmistakably Tony Rice. “What I want,” he has said, “is a pounding sound on each note...Some people say I’m the loudest acoustic guitar player they’ve ever heard.” David Anthony Rice was born the second of four sons in Danville, Virginia in 1951. His father, Herbert, played mandolin and guitar: Tony was exposed to the classic recordings of Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs at an early age. The Rice family moved to southern California when Tony was just two, but the bluegrass music his father and older brother Larry played went West, too. “To tell you the truth,” Tony said to David McCarty (Acoustic Guitar, November/ December 1993), “I probably started playing guitar just because it was there.” Tony discovered the instrument when 8 9 Photo by Axel Küstner he was only five: “I probably put my hands around it and kind of lucked into some kind of sound,” he recalls. “But anyway, I was off and running.” Tony was nine when he made his performance debut on the Town Hall Party radio show, a popular Los Angeles countr y music showcase. Per forming on the same show was a band called the Countr y Boys, later renamed the Kentucky Colonels. Tony was struck by the talent and drive of the band’s sixteenyear-old guitarist, Clarence White. His admiration led to a friendship and apprenticeship with one of the most creative flatpickers of his era. (Recalling a 1964 Newport Folk Festival workshop with White, Doc Watson once said: “He could really tear it down...he almost scared me.”) “I played rhythm similar to Clarence White,” Tony told Mark Hunter, “and he really played differently. A bluegrass rhythm is ‘boom-chick’ and there’s another that’s ‘boomchicka,’ and there’s yet another thing that Clarence did and I do, which is an extra note in there, an extra upsweep with your pick, which certainly adds a fuller sound.” Despite White’s strong influence, Tony believes that it enhanced rather than overwhelmed his own individuality. “For a long time,” he told McCarty, “people thought that Tony Rice was an extension of Clarence White. Well, I’m not sure about that, because as much as I admired Clarence, the more I tried to play like him, the more I found out that I could not play like Clarence White. What happened as a result of trying to play like Clarence was that I developed a unique sound, both rhythmically and harmonically. Trying to sound like him opened up a whole new world for me.” And once he set foot in that world, Tony never looked back. “I never even finished high school,” Tony recalls. “I knew what I was going to do as long as I had ten fingers.” In 1965, Tony’s family moved back East. Bluegrass festivals were becoming popular there in the late 1960s, and it was at Carlton Haney’s Reidsville, North Carolina festival in 1971 that Tony met and auditioned for the Bluegrass Alliance. The group’s guitarist-singer, Dan Crary, was leaving, and Tony stepped into his spot. With mandolinist Sam Bush, Tony made his first explorations of progressive bluegrass during his year-long stint with the Alliance. His brother, Larry, was working as mandolinist with banjoist J.D. Crowe, and when the opportunity to join Crowe’s New South arose in 1972, Tony grabbed it. “I learned general musicianship from J.D. Crowe,” Tony told McCarty. “His approach has a deliberation that’s really important, and I learned that from him.” Tony’s stint with the New South saw the addition of two other outstanding young musicians, Ricky Skaggs and Jerry Douglas, to Crowe’s band. But the decision in 1975 to amplify the New South displeased Tony (“I never really saw any purpose in it”), so in September of that year he left the New South for a promising venture in the New West with mandolinist David Grisman. “We did a lot of rehearsing to put that band together,” Rice explained to McCarty. “We didn’t even appear on stage anywhere for probably three months after I got out there.” Once unveiled, the David Grisman Quintet’s sound was hailed as revolutionary, and Tony Rice’s guitar was a big part of the buzz. Tony left the Quintet in 1979; his celebrated 1980 duet album with Ricky Skaggs was hailed as a ‘backto-the-roots’ masterpiece. In the years since, Tony’s recordings and performances have balanced the experimental ‘new acoustic’ sound he pioneered in the late 1970s with the traditionalism evident in the Skaggs-Rice ‘brother duo’ sound. His performances here find him jamming with his old Bluegrass Alliance band mate, Sam Bush, as well as New South alumni Ricky Skaggs and Jerry Douglas. Fiddler Mark O’Connor and banjoist Bela Fleck add to the splash of the new acoustic rafting romp, Whitewater; the Skaggs-Rice duets evoke the soulful country brother duets of the 1930s and the Tony Rice Unit’s rendition of the Stanley Brothers’ White Dove (with a harmony cameo by Peter Rowan) evokes Tony’s Virginia roots. Asked about pointers for aspiring pickers, Tony told Mark Hanson: “The advice I usually give people is to tr y to play fluently what they hear in their heads.” 10 Photo by Dave Gahr NORMAN BLAKE “My one philosophy in life is this,” Norman Blake once told Louisville Times reporter Ronni Lundi: “I’ve never known what I’m going to do, but I certainly know what I’m not going to do.” With that certainty in mind Blake has carved his niche in the flatpickers’ hall of fame as a kind of progressive conservative, a man deeply rooted in tradition who still enjoys pushing his own perimeters when the spirit moves. “I listened to a lot of old-time countr y and bluegrass music as I came up,” Blake told Ar t Coats (Pickin’, February 1975). Those sounds were in the air around Chattanooga, Tennessee, where Blake was born in 1938, and likewise around the small northern Georgia towns where he was raised, Sulphur Springs and Rising Fawn. An only child, young Norman was doted on by a grandmother who played piano, guitar, and mandolin. She helped, Norman has said, with “music in general...how music worked.” A fiddling cousin also helped him grasp timing and appropriate chord changes in ‘seconding.’ Norman took up the guitar at age eleven: “The first thing I did was some fingerpicking stuff,” he told Coats. “The only lead playing I did on the guitar at first was bass style, like Mother Maybelle Car ter. I did it with a thumb and finger. I didn’t use a flatpick. The flatpicking came in with the mandolin.” “When I did start playing the guitar with a flatpick,” Norman told Jon Sievert (Frets, March 1988), “I started 11 using some of the mandolin technique I’d developed. Like I used to try to play this rhythm on the mandolin where your hand actually goes in a figure-eight pattern on the strings...I got into that and gradually kept bringing it down into singlestring playing on the guitar.” Norman was too enamored of music to finish high school. At sixteen he joined the Dixieland Drifters, with whom he played mandolin and dobro on Knoxville radio station WNOX’s Tennessee Barndance. The Drifters would earn the distinction of being the only bluegrass band to record for Sun Records (their 1957 recordings waited until the 1980s to be released). Norman’s talents subsequently earned him stints in Hylo Brown’s traditional bluegrass band, the Timberliners, as accompanist to countr y singer Walter Forbes, and as part of June Carter’s road band. Uncle Sam requested a different performance (U.S. Army radio operator) in l96l and Norman brought his fiddle and mandolin skills to the Panama Canal, where his Fort Robbe Mountaineers was voted Best Instrumental Group of the Caribbean Command! After his 1963 discharge Norman was back in Nashville, where June Carter had become part of Johnny Cash’s troupe. Carter’s enthusiastic recommendation got Norman Photo by Jim McGuire 12 some record dates with Cash (you hear his dobro on “Understand Your Man”), though he continued to teach guitar in Sulphur Springs and pick with a local countr y band. Norman’s low profile heightened considerably in 1968 when he played on Bob Dylan's influential Nashville Skyline album. The following year he became par t of the house band on Cash’s network television show, and his new visibility brought him session work with Kris Kristofferson, Joan Baez, and John Hartford (he toured with Hartford's Aeroplane band). Norman’s role in the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's Will the Circle Be Unbroken project and the release of his debut solo album, Home in Sulphur Springs on the then fledgling Rounder label, effectively launched his solo career. In 1972, a young cellist from Independence, Missouri was performing in a group which opened for Norman at Nashville’s Exit Inn. “That was the first time I’d ever heard him,” Nancy Blake told Jon Sievert, “and I thought to myself, ‘This guy must be totally nervous to play this fast!’” Despite coming from different musical worlds (Nancy’s training was classical, though she was per forming in a progressive rock ensemble), the pair hit it off and were married in 1975. Both the marriage and musical partnership have matured over the ensuing two decades. In 1978, fiddler James Bryan joined the B1akes to form the Rising Fawn String Ensemble, a trio that lasted nearly eight years. “It gives my guitar music some places to go where it hasn’t been before,” Norman said of the trio to Art Coats (Frets, April 1979); “We’re very much into the bass line concept in our music...Nancy and I play the bass line together when we back the fiddle with the guitar and cello...It gives James some decent backup.” Like any new combination playing old time music, the Rising Fawn String Ensemble met with mixed notices: “When people started to label us as ‘chamber music,”’ Blake told Ronni Lundy, “it was a little offensive to us.” But the point the Blakes and Bryan hoped to make was that old time country wasn’t one dimensional. “A lot of people can’t get past the cornfield,” Norman told Roanoke Times reporter Laura Alderson. “I’m looking for the source.” Norman’s search for the source frequently took him musically to the British Isles, a journey manifest in much of the Rising Fawn String Ensemble’s performance on this video. “Our music demands an ancient tone character,” says Norman, who cites old fiddle 13 books as one of the source he looks to for both material and inspiration. Likewise, he hews close to what he calls “good old-fashioned country music” as witnessed by such standards as Jimmy Brown the Newsboy and the Delmore Brothers’ Nashville Blues. Norman’s approach to fiddle tunes prompted this commentary from J.D. Kleinke (“Backroad Baroque,” Acoustic Guitar, November/December l99l): “One of the most distinctive qualities of his playing is a singular ability to preserve and emulate the spirit and drive of old-time fiddle music with six strings and a flatpick,” wrote Kleinke. “Blake’s heavy use of down-up-down-up cross-picking between melody note and harmony note accomplishes two key things in the pursuit of the old-time fiddle sound: the square downup stroke perfectly replicates the bowing patterns (‘sawing’ and ‘shuffling’) of an old-time fiddler; the two-string harmony of the cross picked pattern captures the drone echo of a fiddler’s double stops, the chordal essence of traditional fiddling.” Norman likes to cite an old mandolin book when asked for tips from aspiring flatpickers: “They said you have to pick it like you were shaking water off your hand,” he remarked. “I simply turn my wrist outward.” Beyond technique, Norman told Art Coats: “I’m just lost in the tune and trying to interpret what’s in my head...” Which, despite limited formal education, is a lot. “I’ve got a ninth grade education,” Norman admits. “There isn’t much else that I can make as much money at as I’ve been able to do with music...I play for pure survival reasons, as well as, you know, loving it.” 14 Photo by Axel Küstner DAN CRARY Lest the high percentage of dropouts among our ‘Legends of Flatpicking’ discourage any aspiring pickers with a high school diploma, take note that Dan Crar y has a Ph.D. and is an active professor of speech communication at Cal State Fullerton. His first line of academic pursuit was theology, which may account for Dan’s philosophical pronouncements on flatpicking and the betterment of humankind: “My nomination for something that’s going to make a difference is a real aesthetic experience,” Dan told David McCar ty (Bluegrass Unlimited, June 1989). “It connects you to other human beings that have had a similar experience... It’s not just another way to spend your recreational dollars... it will bring tremendous rewards from rigorous study and participation, or from just doing it once in awhile and being kind of your neighborhood fiddle player.” It’s fitting that a fiddler (or, more accurately, violinist) was among the earliest inspirations of one of the men who took fiddle tunes to the guitar. Though only five, Dan vividly recalls a recital by Fritz Kreisler: “I was knocked out by the audience's reaction and by all the flourishes of Kreisler’s performing,” Dan told Jim Hatlo (Frets, February 1980). Born in Kansas City, Kansas in 1939, Dan was eleven when he fell in love with the guitar based on the per formances of a local radio personality, Don Sullivan: “He tuned 15 his guitar down about three frets,” Dan told Ar t Coats (Pickin’, February 1975), “and played a real jangly, very guitar sounding backup.” Dan’s first instrument was an archtop, f-hole Gretsch, and by the time he was fifteen, he’d made his performance debut singing Burl Ives’ The Ballad of Thunderhead at Kansas City’s Granada Theater in a local talent contest. “I'd get up wearing a cowboy shir t and hat and play a couple of funny songs I’d worked up,” Dan recalled in an interview with Dan Daniel (Walnut Valley Occasional, April 1986). Following high school graduation in 1957, Dan went to Chicago to attend the Moody Bible Institute. He was in Chicago when the Kingston Trio’s Tom Dooley ushered in the folk boom, and Dan began working on arrangements of songs. “It wasn’t long after I left Chicago in 1960,” Dan told Hatlo, “that I started looking for places to play and make some money.” However, Dan’s primary pursuits were still academic: in 1965 he moved to San Francisco to pursue a theology degree at the Golden Gate Seminary. Two years later he was pursuing a doctorate in theology at Southern Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky, where he became involved with performing a music he’d been listening to since the early 1950s, bluegrass. In 1968 Dan joined the Bluegrass Alliance, a band which made waves at Carlton Haney’s festival in 1969. “As far as I knew,” Dan told David McCarty, “there was nobody flatpicking in bluegrass bands in the late 1960s when we went to our first festivals...I guess that was one contribution that we made.” It wasn’t unheard of – George Shuffler and Don Reno, as previously mentioned, had done it a decade earlier. But in the wake of Flatt & Scruggs’ stardom from the film Bonnie and Clyde, the banjo became the reigning star of the bluegrass instrumental firmament. “People were real interested in the fact that I was playing some lead guitar breaks,” Dan told Hatlo. “This was a time when lead guitar playing in bluegrass had kind of subsided and not much of anybody was doing it.” His stint with the Bluegrass Alliance was influential on Dan’s repertoire and relationship to traditional music. From fiddler Lonnie Peerce he learned such tunes as Forky Deer and Dusty Miller and an appreciation of fiddle music in general: “Lonnie became my main source of information about fiddle styles and fiddle tunes,” Dan recalled. 16 By the time he left the Bluegrass Alliance in 1970, Dan had made his influential first solo album, Bluegrass Guitar (American Heritage). In the quarter century since Dan has divided his energies between academics and music. Along with teaching at Cal State Fullerton, Dan has toured and recorded extensively both as soloist and in the company of many first rate acoustic players, foremost among them fiddler Byron Berline and banjoist John Hickman, with whom Dan has performed in groups variously labeled Sundance, Berline, Crary & Hickman, and California. “I love the experiences I’ve had and the music I’ve played,” Dan has said, “but I’m never satisfied... I’m just pressing on.” His performances in this video start with Dan’s interpretation of Reno & Smiley’s 1956 recording, Country Boy Rock ‘n Roll. “Historically,” Dan told David McCar ty, “flatpicking starts with Don Reno’s Country Boy Rock “ n Roll and a few other people who were experimenting with the flatpick as an alternative to Carter style picking in the 1950s.” As for his imaginative interpretations of fiddle tunes, Dan contends: “Just because Limerock was thought up on a fiddle doesn’t mean it belongs only on a fiddle. That also means it’s not my goal to play it exactly as it was played on the fiddle.” He strongly urges aspiring pickers to maintain open ears: “Guitar players who listen only to other flatpickers are digging a very deep rut for themselves,” he says. Dan has plenty of pointers he gladly shares with anyone serious about learning. “When you’re playing solo,” he told Hatlo, “the trick is to make the solo instrument sound as full as possible. One of the ways to do that is to leave a bass string ringing as a sort of drone behind a moving part somewhere else. A lot of times I will hit the bass string and leave my thumb down on it, freeing the other fingers to keep the moving parts going...It’s a little unorthodox, but unorthodoxy is okay as long as it doesn’t prevent you from doing something that you want to do.” And for Dan Crary, that’s worked like a charm. “I’ve always been an unor thodox guitar player,” he told Dan Daniel, “partly because I didn’t come up through the bluegrass ranks but through folk music. I came up through sitting on the edge of the bed and doing weirdness that only I could understand.” Thanks to Mary Katherine Aldin for help with background material. 17 Norman Blake & Tony Rice D OC W ATSON Black Mountain Rag Peach Pickin' Time Down In Georgia T ONY R ICE A LL STAR JAM Nine Pound Hammer Cold On The Shoulder Whitewater N ORMAN B LAKE & T HE RISING F AWN S TRING E NSEMBLE Jimmy Brown The Newsboy Salty Molly Bloom Doc Watson & Jack Lawrence Running Time: 90 minutes • Color • Hi-Fi Stereo Front Photo: Lorinda Sullivan Back Photos: Tony Rice & Norman Blake by Bill Wolf; Dan Crary by Irene Young; Doc Watson & Jack Larence by Lorinda Sullivan Duplicated in SP Mode/Real Time Duplication Nationally distributed by Rounder Records, One Camp Street, Cambridge, MA 02140 Representation to Music Stores by Mel Bay Publications ® 2001 Vestapol Productions / A division of Stefan Grossman's Guitar Workshop Inc. Dan Crary D AN C RARY Country Boy Rock N' Roll Medley: The Fishing Creek Blues/ The Blackbird/Turkey In The Straw/ Bonaparte's Retreat/Arkansas Traveller D OC W ATSON & J ACK L AWRENCE Bye Bye Blues Tennessee Stud T ONY RICE & RICKY S KAGGS Where The Soul Of Man Never Dies More Pretty Girls Then One N ORMAN B LAKE & T HE R ISING F AWN STRING E NSEMBLE Nashville Blues Medley: The Cuckoo's Nest/Over The Waterfall/Opera Reel/ Cherokee Shuffle T ONY RICE A LL S TAR J AM Freeborn Man D OC & M ERLE W ATSON Medley:Sheeps In The Meadow/ Stoney Fork Medley: Bill Cheatham/ Salt Creek D AN C RARY Lady's Fancy Black Mountain Rag T ONY RICE UNIT The White Dove Sally Goodin VESTAPOL 13005 ISBN: 1-57940-900-8 0 18 1 1 6 7 1 30059 7