Foghorn Stringband reaps a hot harvest
New album from local pickers, fiddlers is a barn-burner
What's that, you say? Party's poopin' out because some slacker put on his endless mixed tape of dour indie bands? Quick! Apply some Foghorn Stringband, stat! Then grab a partner and commence twirling.
It's difficult to imagine anyone not liking the Foghorn Stringband: The music is just too hot, too rapturous and too deftly picked for nitpicking. It's a white-knuckled cluster of fiddle, banjo, mandolin, bass and guitar that darts, dives and spins from one tune to the next, but the overall effect is that of a seamless whole. The pace occasionally slows, and sometimes thereีs singing, but mainly it's like thereีs a whale of a wingding going on in the old barn that looks to stretch from sundown to hog-branding time.
There's nothing startlingly innovative on Foghorn's second album, "Reap What You Sow"; it's the same modus operandi displayed on the first: The band digs up traditional songs from the Carter Family, Dock Boggs and other crafty fiddlers, yodelers and pluckers, gives them a shot of adrenaline and some new duds, and it's off to Appalachia.
Contemporary? Cutting edge? Who needs it? It seems unlikely these fellows will be looking into the possibility of beats and samples anytime soon. In fact, they usually record huddled around a single microphone. The Foghorns embrace Luddite technology with the unfettered fervor of a boozed-up family reunion.
Sammy Lind's fiery fiddle usually leads the way, but P.T. Grover's knotty banjo and Caleb Klauder's mandolin find plenty of elbowroom as well. Singling out individual accomplishments in this hoedown hurricane is none too easy; the ensemble playing is wrapped tighter than a mummy's butt. Nimble numbers such as "Five Miles of Ellum Wood" and "Black Mountain Rag" could get a three-legged dog dancing.
"Fall On My Knees" and "Nobody's Darling" are sorrowful songs about trying to stay one step ahead of loneliness, and Foghorn's expert, exhilarating interplay pretty much takes care of that. "Charlie and Nellie" and "Dying Hobo" are similarly downbeat, but even so, the toe finds a way to tap. It's sad music used to cure being sad ั it's a flu shot you can swing to.
This steaming quintet has been revving up crowds on the old-time music and folk-festival circuit for the past few years, and we should thank our lucky stars to have such a powerful aggregation of players in our neck of the woods.
