By Dave Shiflett (Bloomberg) – The Americana/roots festival season kicks off in earnest later this month with Merlefest in Wilkesboro, North Carolina (April 28-May 1) and the National Folk Festival in Canberra, Australia (April 22-25)reflecting the worldwide appeal of songs that often originated in the Appalachian mountains and other rural hotspots. While performers such as Doc Watson, Del McCoury and Robert Plant are better known and acts such as Blind Boy Chocolate and the Milk Sheiks and the Corklickers more cleverly named, few performers are more admired – and perhaps unlikely -- than Bruce Molsky, considered one of the world’s premier old time fiddlers. Molsky, 55, who will play in Canberra, didn’t take up the fiddle until he was 18 and didn’t launch his full time music career until he was 41. Contrary to stereotypes this purveyor of mountain music has all his teeth and even wears an earring. Plus, he’s from the Bronx. Rembrandt of Appalachia I caught up with Molsky during a recent swing through the southeast to talk about life as a traditional musician and the growing interest, especially among young listeners and musicians, in the songs he champions. But first I wanted to know how a guy from the Bronx ends up as “the Rembrandt of Appalachian fiddlers,” as violin master Darol Anger calls him. It started, Molsky says, when jazz legend Billy Taylor visited P.S. 81 when Molsky was 11: “I heard him play and thought -- man I want that.” Molsky bought a guitar and took lessons for a year, later immersing himself in fiddle and banjo music and earned a living as a mechanical engineer until going full-time at 40, which he calls “the nicest favor I ever did for myself.” Tears From Ronstadt Traditional music is on a “definite uptick” because of its purity and communal appeal, according to Molsky. “This is the music of communities and of workers trying to escape their grinds.” Or, in some cases, watching their grinds disappear. In “Peg ‘n’ Awl,” Molsky sings about a shoe factor worker who is replaced by a machine. They’ve invented a new machine, peg and awl They’ve invented a new machine, I peg one shoe, it pegs fifteen, I’m gonna lay me down my awl, my peg and awl. Sung in a sturdy baritone, the song could draw a tear from the most ardent advocate of automation. “I cried when I heard that song the first time,” says Linda Ronstadt, a Molsky admirer, “and I’m not a crybaby.” She played it for her siblings, she said from San Francisco, and they cried too. Molsky’s rendition of the traditional song has “the same power as Mozart.” Ronstadt believes Molsky and other traditional performers appeal to listeners tired of “pop music that is so empty,” a belief seconded by Molsky fan and collaborator Jerry Douglas, probably the world’s best-known Dobro player and a mainstay in Alison Krauss’s Union Station band. “Bruce honors traditional music,” he said from Nashville. He also says Molsky is “a chameleon. With his fiddle, banjo and guitar playing, he can fit into a lot of situations.” Douglas says younger musicians and listeners are sick of “overproduced, slick stuff.” He and Molsky cite acts such as Crooked Still, Abigail Washburn and the Carolina Chocolate Drops as taking the ancient songs into the future. Checkered Demon’s brew Molsky’s influence extends beyond roots music. “Both my String Quartet No. 3 and my Concerto for Violin and Cello and Symphony Orchestra have inspiration from Bruce's playing, his rhythmic drive and how spirited his music is,” composer/violinist Mark O’Connor said in an email. Douglas adds another kudo: “Bruce isn’t a diva.” Or rich. “I made a more secure living as a professional person,” Molsky chuckles. He drove his recent southern tour in a Toyota Prius. “I got 46.5 miles to the gallon -- the entire gas bill was $150” – less than a typical bottle of bubbly slurped down by upper-tier rock musicians. My last question had to do with the origins of his company name: Tree Frog Music. “I was writing liner notes for an album,” he says, and wanted a moniker different than his own name. “There was a Zap comic on the table” in which he found a mention of “the Checkered Demon’s favorite grog: Tree-Frog beer.” A toast may be in order. Molsky just got word he’ll be teaching and performing at the Berklee School Of Music in Boston in the spring of 2012. Sometimes, dropping out of school and leaving your job pays big dividends.
