Earl Scruggs, R.I.P.

   I first learned about bluegrass music in the summer of 1962.  I was Waterfront Director at a camp for what were then called "underprivileged children," and shared a mildewed tent with a fellow staffer named Joe Brecher, who has become a lifelong friend.  Joe had been introduced to this music in college, and was even able to get WWVA in Wheeling, West Virginia, a station that played music from "The Grand Old Opry," and featured Bluegrass music.  To those not familiar with what is often called "The High, Lonesome, Sound" that is bluegrass, think of it as an acoustic musical style that draws from both folk and country music and utilizes the banjo, one or more guitars, the dobro (an unamplified version of the Hawaiian guitar), a bass, and a mandolin.  I was already deeply involved with folk music, and loved singing and playing the guitar.  The introduction to (a) bluegrass music in general and (b) Flatt & Scruggs and the Foggy Mountain Boys in particular was nothing short of a revelation.  The virtuosity of the musicians and their tight country harmonies were, quite literally, music to my ears.  Foremost among these was the banjo playing of Earl Scruggs.  I had long been familiar with Banjo music, courtesy of Pete Seeger and the Weavers, and groups like the Kingston Trio and the Limelighters.  But Earl Scruggs, who (along with rhythm guitarist and lead singer, Lester Flatt) got his start with the late, great  singer and mandolin picker, Bill Monroe in 1945, was not just your ordinary country banjo picker.  He invented a new way of playing the banjo that no one had done before.  (The New York Times was compared his achievements on the banjo equivalent to those of Paganini on the violin.)  It is now so familiar to anyone who listens to bluegrass or folk music, that we assume it had been played that way since the invention of the instrument.  Not so.  Earl added a third finger to the playing of the five-string banjo, and what emerged was a clean, biting sound that both rippled and provided a ragtime-like alternating of the strings. Earl also added another refinement to the five-string banjo known of "Scruggs-pegs" (now called Scruggs-Keith pegs in recognition of a Scruggs protege named  Bill Keith).  These were extra pegs on the banjo that allowed the player (initially only Earl Scruggs) to change tunings in the middle of a piece. Whenever Earl would utilize these pegs in concert appearances, the audience would burst out in spontaneous applause, smiles wreathing our appreciative faces.
  The world at large became aware of bluegrass music when one of the signature pieces of Flatt &; Scruggs called "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" appeared as the getaway song in the movie, "Bonnie and Clyde."  A few years later, Flatt & Scruggs provided the theme song to "The Beverly Hillbillies" and, later, "Petticoat Junction."
   When the movie version of James Dickey's classic novel, "Deliverance," appeared, it featured the instrumental, "Dueling Banjos," in which a guitar and banjo trade licks.  Once the duel really gets going, the banjo explodes in Scruggs-style banjo.
   Given Scrugg's unique contribution to the five-string banjo, it is easy to forget what a fine guitar player he was.  Listen to their album, "Flatt & Scuggs sing Songs of the Famous Carter Family." For years, I struggled to replicate his guitar-picking on the classic, "Jimmy Brown the Newsboy." Eventually, I was satisfied with having "approximated" it.  There is not a single bluegrass banjo picker who does not owe a debt to the late master.  Without Earl Scruggs, they might have been playing the banjo, but not in that style which is now synonymous with bluegrass music.
   Yesterday, just before writing this blog, I was walking by my music room, where I keep my guitar, stereo components and far too many records and LPs.  I heard the sound of something falling to the floor, little louder than a whisper.  When I looked to see what had made these gentle noise, I saw that it was a small model banjo that had fallen from its pedestal to the floor.  I lovingly put it back in its place, and shook my head at the timing of an occurrence that had never happened before.  Even my model banjo was in mourning.
    In the excellent biography of Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson, Jobs was asked to assess the importance of  the music of the Dylan and Beatles versus the Rolling Stones.  Mr. Jobs said that if the Rolling Stones hadn't existed, someone else would have taken their place, but no one could have taken the place of Dylan or the Beatles.  The same can be said with regard to Earl Scruggs.  To paraphrase the words of "The In Crowd," "Other guys and gals may imitate us, the original is still the greatest."  Indeed.