Popular culture is a strange thing. One
day something is popular and the next thing you know it's retro because
its time has gone by. The resurgence of popular interest in "old
timey" music aka folk music, AKA mountain music, that has been brought
on by the Cohen brothers fabulous film "Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou,"
has made the roots of American popular music new again. Rhino Records
has just released a collection called "Washington Square Memoirs:
The Great Urban Folk Boom 1950-1970," which seeks to chronicle the
folk troubadours who influenced such folk rock icons as Bob Dylan and
the Rolling Stones, and today the Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Blasters.
Among the artists in the collection you
will see the name Seeger several times. Pete Seeger and Peggy Seeger both
of whom sing traditional music that they have written as well as traditional
standards are obvious, but nestled in the collection is also a little
band called, "The New Lost City Ramblers," which was fronted by Mike Seeger,
who plays only standards. It's no accident that this trio of siblings
is so heavily present in a collection of folk music. They are considered
the heirs of one of the first families of American folk music, their father
Charles was a pioneering musicologist who helped chronicle American traditional
music pre-1930 and his mother, Ruth Crawford was a music educator and
the author of "American Folk Songs for Children."
The family was close to the famous field
recorders, the Lomaxs and the house was always alive with the sound of
original traditional music that had been collected and recorded at the
root of traditional American music: the people who had passed it down
from generation to generation. Mike Seeger believes "you can only communicate
about music if you can hear the music," and he is a living embodiment
of this belief. One of the ways he preserves traditional music is via
his amazing website, which is almost a master class in the history of
traditional music, and the other way is by continuing the live performance
of the music he was raised on. If traditional music is a religion, then
Mike Seeger is a voice singing in the woods of his home in Virginia.
On January 25th he will be coming out of
the woods and to Los Angeles to play a show at UCLA's Royce Hall in support
of the Rhino box set. Along with Seeger will be fellow icons of the 60s
urban folk revival: Tom Paxton, John Hammond and Loudin Wainwright III.
I spoke with Mike Seeger via phone from his home in Virginia where he
is working on a new CD called The Vine due out soon on Smithsonian Records
in May and looking forward to playing in Los Angeles.
CARLYE ARCHIBEQUE: Tell how you
came to play traditional folk music.
MIKE SEEGER: My parents and the
Lomaxs saw that the older styles of orally transmitted music were giving
way to commercially dominated music and they set about trying to make
sure, as much as they could, that some of the older styles remained viable
and in the public's consciousness. My brother Pete started playing the
banjo then and that was his way of doing it. My folks were mostly involved
in music administration and music education. My mother put together books
of folk songs for children and beyond that, my sister Peggy, mostly in
England, well she sings both the traditional songs and her own songs,
and I followed up. I sing strictly old traditional songs and I strive
for traditional style.
CA: You've said that old time music
just seems to fit you. What is it that draws you to it over contemporary
music?
MS: Oh...well....
CA: Is it a feeling you have? Is
it comforting, like the difference between being home and going to a hotel?
MS: That's a good way of looking
at it, the feeling of being at home. That's a thought that never occurred
to me. It's home-music. It's the music I was raised on. Some people turn
their backs on the music they were raised on.
CA: Some people do rebel from their
roots, but you seemed to have embraced them to an extreme measure.
MS: Yes, and gone deeper and deeper
with it, because there's so much there, I find it a very rich tradition.
There were so many different people playing so many different songs in
so many different ways, each with such feeling, in those days, especially
before recorded music began homogenizing and changing things. It's intriguing
to me and it's accessible to me on a day to day basis and I can play it
whenever I feel like it...well, I guess I can't play it whenever I feel
like it because there's too much, unfortunately, email and travel plans.
But my reward is playing this music for fun and to a certain extent I
play it for my living.
CA: You mentioned email and all
of these other things that invade your life. I know you mentioned in one
of your essays on your site that it became easier for people to turn on
the radio than to learn to play instruments or to sing songs. It seems
like the old time music seems to have a feeling of casualness because
there weren't twenty things competing for your attention when you got
home.
MS: Yes, it could be that way. And
then of course within the tradition there were people who followed it
completely to the extent that there were great virtuosos of the music
down through the years. They didn't make records, nobody wrote about them,
but they became regionally, or maybe just in a local area, well known,
and loved and valued at dances and musical gatherings. So there were people
who could play maybe two or three tunes and then people who had hundreds
of tunes in their repertoire or singers who didn't' play anything, but
had maybe 300 songs in their head. That's 300 of the great songs I mean,
including the old songs and some new ones. People liked Almeda Riddle,
for instance, the great Arkansas ballad singer. All of these things were
possible. Today there are thousands of people across the country who are
playing this kind of music and then thousands more who are playing complementary
types of music that are different cultures from the Southern Celtic, or
sometimes Afro-Celtic.
CA: So what do you think of your
fellow performers for the UCLA show?
MS: It will be a unique experience,
this one.
CA: How is the show going to run,
are you going to play together?
MS: No, we're each going to do sets,
I'll be first.
CA: Is that a good thing or a bad
thing?
MS: It's a good thing for me because
in a way the music I play is the foundation for everything else.
CA: Do you have any idea which songs
you will be playing at your upcoming show in Los Angeles?
MS: I'm sure I'll be playing something
on the gourd banjo, which is the original type of banjo that came to this
country with the Africans. It's not an original instrument, I had one
made, but it's like the original. The song was played mostly by the African
American mountain men, mostly, and those from the Piedmont too. It's one
of the old songs from England, "The Coo Coo Bird." They learned
it and they played it on the banjo, and then the white people learned
it too. A gourd banjo is just a gourd with it's top sliced off and a skin
stretched across it and a neck.
CA: So the banjo was originally
African?
MS: It was brought here by the Africans
and played mostly by them until the early 19th century. It was played
by European Americans to some small extent, and became a European American
instrument from the late 1800s on.
CA: I have to ask, cause I love
the answers I get, what is the difference between a fiddle and a violin?
MS: A fiddle and a violin are the same
instrument. A fiddle means that you're probably playing rural music. (chuckles
a little) Though classical musicians who are very secure in their place
in the world don't mind calling them fiddles, but only if they don't have
to worry about their place in the world.
CA: What other instruments will
you be bringing along that are unique?
MS: I'll bring an auto harp, have
you seen a zither? It's more or less like a zither but it has bars on
it to press certain strings to make chords. It's used in the rural south,
especially Northern Virginia and throughout rural America.
CA: How was it made?
MS: It was invented by some Germans in
the 1870s, in that gadget happy era, and it took hold in the rural areas
and has been marketed by Sears & Roebuck every since it failed as a fad
in the north in the1890s. And then I play the Jews Harp which is a little
iron instrument you play in your mouth.
CA: That's what Snoopy plays isn't
it?
MS: Yes, but this is played very
differently than that.
CA: Well, I would hope so cause
he's only animated.
MS: (Laughs) He just goes boink,
boink.
CA: You refer to the music you play
as traditional music.
MS: Yes, and traditional is a word
just like folk, a name for music that has been changed through commercial
use in the past 30 or 40 years.
CA: So what would you mark as the
boundaries of the music you play?
MS: Most of the music I play, I
play in pre-1930s style, but one or two of the songs I play might be from
the 1930s.
CA: Los Angeles, and a good portion
of the music listening public, does tend toward the contemporary music
tastes, what would you say to people who aren't familiar with this type
of music to entice the to try something old that's new again, so to speak.
MS: Well, this music has been played
by thousands of people over the centuries. The styles that I play in have
been played by hundreds of thousands of people. So by use, in our democratic
society, they voted for it and they love it and when they hear it, they
love to hear it still. It was the majority music in our country until
into the early 20th century. It's remarkably varied. It's the foundation
of "Oh, Brother," some of it is actually in "Oh, Brother,"
(laughs) but this is "oh, mother, oh father." I actually didn't
see the film, it came to town for two days and I wasn't here. I hate watching
things on video, but I guess I'm going to have to.
CA: It was a fascinating film
from a musicology standpoint. Just to see the popularization of
music and the change from players having been in the physical vicinity
of the people who saw them perform to having people they had never
met and would never meet, having heard and been influenced by their
music.
MS: It changes the entire
process. If one person that you've never seen dominates the music
scene, it tends to dominate what you do musically. One person in
your valley might dominate and when you go home, you do your version
of it. So that's quite different. It just changes the whole thing.
I must say, that the musicians that I learned from in person are
the ones that remain the strongest influences to me personally.
People like Maybelle Carter, Elizabeth Cotton, Dock Bogs and Roscoe
Halcolmb. Those are the musicians that are strongest to me when
I sit down to play or I play a song that I'm not familiar with it
comes out in a style that is very heavily based on their music.
CA: With your father being
a musicologist, and your mother being a music educator, was there
a lot of music in the house?
MS: Yes, always, they had
field recordings that they let me play on the phonograph, that was
a big part of it.
CA: Can you give me some lyrics,
what are these songs about?
MS: Some of these are just
like...haiku. Some people call them country haiku. The lyrics are
brief and they give you a feeling, but they're not necessarily heavy
messages and they're not narratives. They're just for singing between
playing. It gives you something word-wise between verses of playing.
It's poetry, but it's country poetry.
CA: So it makes the music
a little more meditative that the more lyric or message heavy tunes?
MS: Well, there's a side to
this music, which can be, oh, almost like a mantra. Some people
do refer to it as a mantra. I get together with some people to just
play every once in a while and you can play a single song for 20
or 30 minutes...but mostly it's just three or four minutes.
CA: I know you only play old
traditional tunes as opposed to writing songs yourself. Where do
you go to reference your songs?
MS: I go back to the collections
of the Lomax's they did incredible collecting. He was undoubtedly
the greatest and most prolific collector of folk songs that I know
of, so I go to his collection, and his father John's collection.
These are all deposited at the Library of Congress and there are
other collections there too. Such as Sidney Robertson Cowl who married
Henry Cowl the composer and then I use commercial recordings of
78s, those made before music became too commercial and the music
started folding back and influencing new music.
CA: Do you think there are
still tinges of traditional music in the most modern of music. The
Red Hot Chili Peppers for example seem to have hints of the traditional
in their music.
MS: I've only heard one or
two pieces of their music and actually someone sent them to me because
they felt that it sounded like they had been listening to the old
music.
CA: It seems like the older
music doesn't' have a credited author, it's just music that's always
been played.
MS: Well, most of these songs
were always played, and they didn't have a PR crew and they didn't
copyright them. They weren't going to record them, it was all a
new idea and they were learning what to do with the songs. A lot
of the musicians made publishing companies rich and didn't know
what to do about it. That's how it was for most of them actually.
CA: Do you think it was like
with the American Indians where the whole idea of owning and selling
land was ridiculous, that the music makers didn't think you could
own a piece of music.
MS: At the beginning I don't
think they understood it at all. AT Carter was one of the first
who was used by a publisher. His publishing company copyrighted
a lot of songs that were written by others years before. The whole
idea was so new in the beginning, but the companies caught on in
a hurry.
CA: It seems like you enjoy
being a conduit to keep old time music alive. Is that part of your
life goal?
MS: Oh yes, that is it. I
was much more conscious of it at the start. Now I kind of take for
granted that aspect of it, that that's one of the things I'm trying
to do. I remember when I was in my early to mid-20s, when the Kingston
Trio came out, and it became possible for me to join a music group
at the time, I don't remember who it was, and it became clear to
me that it would be easier to live day to day in the way that I
wanted to live, and then I would not be ashamed of it. With the
New Lost City Ramblers it became clear that we could have become
more commercial if we added a string bass to our group and I could
see the possibility then, and I just didn't want to do that. The
way that you live is so important from day to day. I think that
it's important to keep your daily activities in tune with your mind.
Do you know what I mean? In connection with your philosophy I guess.
So we, my group and me, made it a mission in our early years to
help other traditional musicians and to try too, when we could,
to encourage presenters to have other traditional musicians on the
stage with us. My first concert as a soloist was also Elizabeth
Cotton's first concert as a soloist. Talk about copyrights, her
song "Freight Train," which we thought was a traditional
song, Peggy taught it to people in England when she was there, and
they copyrighted it when Elizabeth Cotton had actually put the song
together and unfortunately she only got one third of the royalties
after she got a lawyer involved.
CA: It seems like you've been
lucky. A lot of young men might say, "I want to play traditional
music and encourage traditional musicians to keep the music alive,"
but not everybody manages to be able to follow their philosophy
and keep their dream alive. It seems that every part of your live
is part of that ideal. How is it that you have been, seemingly,
so lucky?
MS: I've just been lucky.
I've gone ahead with it as I assumed I would be successful and I
was very fortunate that I came along at the right time for one thing
with something that was new that fit into a current, almost like
a fad, in 1959, 60 & 61. And I've also been very persistent. I've
never given up and there have been some very lean times, about 15
years ago, because I was working so hard on traditional music that
I forgot that I was supporting myself by playing it and I neglected
to make recordings for a while and pay attention to my own career.
So I had a rough time there for 8 or 10 years.
CA: Have you played in Los
Angeles before?
MS: Oh yes, at McCabes, and
the Ash Grove, the old one and the new one, on the pier before they
went under. And I played at UCLA for the Folk Festival in 1964.
CA: Oh my, I was born in '64, (both laugh), so I didn't make it.
MS: As far as you know.
CA: I have more of a punk
mentality; I think I would have remembered.
MS: Have you heard of the
Dickle Bros? They record for a punk label, they're kind of a punk
mentality but they play in the old time tradition.
CA: That sounds cool, anything
can be punk though, there's punk the lifestyle, and punk the music
MS: Well, the punk movement
fills the college scene the way the New Lost City Ramblers did in
the 60s, just as an alternative lifestyle in a way, with a certain
type of philosophy.
CA: Now what kind of lifestyle
existed that made your band an alternative to it?
MS: It's a big subject and
I don't know that we can go into it. And perhaps it's a half-baked
idea on my part. I view these kinds of alternative music as similar
in a way to our old time music of the early sixties, in it's intent
of a focused rebellion, or maybe not focused, because it's supposed
to be very individualistic too. Isn't punk supposed to be a rebellion
of the working class, but on a college campus?
CA: Well, when punk sprung
up in New York and then more popularly in England it was a reaction
of the working class to the corporatization of, strangely enough,
music and art and therefore social thought. Disco was being packaged
and shoved down people's throats. In England, it was a poor working
class reaction to the massive unemployment and poverty put up against
the luster of the monarchy. The best example being the Sex Pistols
following the Queen's 25th anniversary boat down the Thames on their
own boat singing "God Save the Queen," which had lyrics
that were less than complementary to the monarchy, until they were
pulled over by the UK version of the harbor patrol.
MS: In the 60s a lot of our
focus was on the corporatization of folk music. It's just a feeling
I get when I listen to the music today. I like listening to the
college music stations, the ones that aren't NPR stations. A lot
of the music is fresh and it's different.
CA: I think it's the idea
that once corporations start in on art it's the beginning of the
control of social thought and you can't allow that to happen. I
mean some people may be more comfortable with the idea of everything
being fed to them, but most artists aren't.
MS: Some people live like
that. It's a matter of struggling for existence and what their priorities
are, because the priority is usually to have food and a roof, and
music to some people is not that important. There are other people
where the music is so important that they don't always have a roof
or food. It's a matter of priorities, and I think for most people
it's a roof and food, but then a lot of folks do that and they say
now I need an SUV and my house needs to be bigger and I need a boat.
CA: ...and they need a bigger
music system to play the corporate music on...
MS: (laughs) They get carried
away.
CA: You seem like someone
who would rather have music than a roof.
MS: I've been fortunate to
have both, by borrowing money sometimes, other times by selling
an instrument I wanted to keep.