How to Grow a Band: Punch Brothersmania

Chris Thile’s admirers probably see him as something like the Wynton Marsalis of bluegrass. A child prodigy with remarkable technique, Thile has tried to make rootsy string band music respectable for tony concert halls. Mark Meatto documents the getting-to-know-you tour endured by the band Thile recruited to realize his new ambitions in How to Grow a Band (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Grow centers around what was Thile’s riskiest composition at the time. The Blind Leaving the Blind is a forty minute through-composed suite for traditional string band quartet. There are plenty of precedents for such long form compositions beyond classical music (Thick as a Brick, anyone?), but for the very staid world of bluegrass, this was evidently quite daring. It flat-out bombed in Scotland. Some of the Punch Brothers suggest breaking it apart for their live shows, but Thile insists on charging ahead, regardless of audience reception. Just in case you have any doubts whether it really is all entirely about Thile, keep in mind the multi-movement piece is supposedly a tone poem for the dissolution of his marriage.

Thile sure can play, so the band obviously makes allowances. He can draw a ticket-buying public too, so if his concepts start to gel, being a Punch Brother will mean steady work in an uncertain business. Viewers might be less indulgent. Frankly, Thile often comes across rather high-handed, with a stunning lack of self-awareness. Eventually, there is a parting of ways with one Punch Brother, but Meatto conspicuously sweeps it under the rug. Suddenly, Paul Kowert is on bass and Greg Garrison is making excuses about his family not wanting to move to New York.

Still, using Blind Leaving the Blind as the film’s central touchstone gives viewers a good sense of the band’s range and musicianship. It is definitely a dynamic piece, inspiring some impassioned playing from the Punch Brothers. There is no question they are all talented, but whether they are fascinating personalities on-screen remains much more debatable.

Ironically, Grow, probably the highest profile bluegrass film since maybe Deliverance, shot performance footage in two great jazz venues, notably including Jazz @ Lincoln Center’s stunning Allen Room, a cinematic venue also open to outside presenters. Getting a camera assist from Note By Note director Ben Niles, the Allen concert is clearly the highlight of the Punch Brothers 1.0’s tour. Yet shortly thereafter, we also see Garrison returning to his jazz roots with a big band gig at Denver’s Dazzle Jazz.

Wisely, Meatto focuses on the music, which is quite distinctive. However, for those of us coming to the film from other musical traditions, Grow never makes a compelling case that this is something truly groundbreaking—and a little of Thile backstage goes a long way. Recommended for regular No Depression readers, but not necessarily for general audiences, How to Grow a Band opens tomorrow (4/13) in New York at the Village East.

Scow & Brough

Sharon by the Sea
By Eva Scow & Dusty Brough
Adventure Music

If you programmed a computer to generate a group best suited to the editorial preferences of No Depression (formerly the magazine, now the bookazine, whatever that is), the result would probably bear a striking resemblance to the duo of Eva Scow and Dusty Brough. Mandolin prodigy? Check. Diverse world music influences? Check. A blatant disregard for genre boxes? It’s all in there, and can be heard on their debut CD Sharon by the Sea, which is now available from Adventure Music.

Though defying category, Scow and Brough can sort of be thought of as a bluegrass string duo performing largely acoustic jazz with Latin and Brazilian rhythms and a folky attitude. That is an imperfect description, but at least it is a place to start. In fact, Scow and Brough are a string band unto themselves, with the former playing both acoustic and electric mandolins, as well as violin on Sharon, while the latter is heard on guitar (nylon string and electric), acoustic bass, and the Turkish cumbus. While their musical voices clearly dominate the proceedings, they are augmented by several musicians, most frequently percussionist John Martin III.

Despite their dazzling technique, Scow & Brough keep the mood relaxed throughout Sharon, never letting the music get overly frantic or rushed. Having co-written most of the tunes, the co-leaders show a knack for up-beat melodies, as on the opening pseudo-flamenco “Bird with Beastlike Qualities” and the easy-going “Rodolfo.” Scow and Brough’s highly attuned, seamless interplay is quite impressive throughout their set, at times requiring concerted listening to untwine their blended lines.

Their influences are indeed quite diverse, as on the classically inspired “Theoretically Speaking,” the traditional Venezuelan “Pica Pica,” and the vaguely Hot Club-sounding miniature “Best in Show,” (which clocks in at a mere forty-two seconds). However, some of the best tracks incorporate unexpected aural colors and combinations, particularly Javon Davis’s Fender Rhodes, which takes the title track in an unexpectedly funky direction and makes for an intriguing aural combination with Scow’s mandolin on “Gateway Chronicles.” On the concluding “Saturday,” Scow herself over-dubs on the Fender Rhodes to pleasing effect, before segueing into an appropriately greasy coda (complete with nightclub background noise), to close out the set.

Scow and Brough have an audible rapport and a really fresh sound. While Sharon might have benefited from a bit more contrast in terms of overall mood (like a legitimate up-tempo burner), it is surprisingly accomplished musical statement that actually appreciates with repeated listening.

Bookazine (Whatever That Is): No Depression

No Depression No. 76: The Next Generation
Grant Alden & Peter Blackstock ed.
University of Texas Bookazine (Whatever that is)

Print is dead, or at least so I’ve been told repeatedly as a publishing semi-professional. The magazine business has been particularly brutal over the last ten years or so. Some have tried to maintain a digital life after ceasing hardcopy publication, but it has usually just prolonged the death rattle (case in point: Omni magazine). While No Depression has pursued a similar internet strategy after shipping their final issue this summer, they have also recommitted to ink-on-paper, forming an alliance with the University Press of Texas to publish a twice yearly tradepaperback “bookazine (whatever that is).” With the first bookazine, No. 76: the Next Generation, now out, ND chose a theme of rejuvenation, focusing on youthful string bands currently reshaping the bluegrass scene.

Taking its name from an Uncle Tupelo album and the Carter Family song “No Depression in Heaven,” ND has covered all forms of music which fit under the umbrella of Americana, including: bluegrass, blues, ambitious country music, roots rock, and a smidgen of jazz. For the new incarnation, they made the editorial decision to relegate all live performance reviews to the website, but retained some CD reviews to preserve some of the feel of the original magazine. Indeed, most of No. 76 profiles the youthful string bands, which I am happy to note in a few cases includes artists well into their thirties.

It is cool to see ND find new life in as a bookazine, but as they grow accustomed to the new format, editorial adjustments will need to be made. Unlike the magazine form, the bookish trappings will encourage some readers to start at page one and proceed sequentially to page 144 (like your faithful reviewer). Unfortunately, many of the string band profiles follow the same template, explaining how each group is mindful of tradition, but incorporate a host of outside influences to synthesize their own unique sound, which is exemplified in their latest CD. To be fair, developing fresh hooks to discuss musicians is devilishly difficult (believe me, I empathize completely), but differentiating articles will be a greater concern now than in a proper magazine, which readers typically dip into sporadically.

That said, No. 76 is a thorough primer on the fresh faces on the string band scene. One name that recurs frequently though is no new-comer. As a member of Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet, Béla Fleck is described as: “regularly rated by many to be the most innovative living master banjoist who’s not Earl Scruggs.” (p. 80) His name reappears as an influence and producer for other artists, as well as art director for No. 76, having stage managed the eccentric photo shoot of Washburn and the Sparrow quartet, which graces the cover.

If bluegrass, no matter how reinvented, is not your thing, there is some welcome blues coverage in No. 76 as well. There are profiles of the truly youthful Homemade Jamz Blues Band and Gary Clark, Jr., the breakout star of John Sayles’s The Honeydripper. There is also a fairly lukewarm review of Two Men with the Blues, the collaboration between Willie Nelson and Wynton Marsalis. While praising some tunes, Rich Kienzle sums up the release writing: “it brings forth nothing new or revolutionary, nor was it meant to.” (p. 142)

It is great to see ND continue covering artists that magazines like Entertainment Weekly and Rolling Stone will not bother with, in any format. It also represents a potentially interesting publishing development, blurring formats as its artists blur genres. It should be interesting to follow as they calibrate their future contributions to fit the new format.