The doctor gets down with his Clinch Mountain Boys. Photos by Timothy Finn/The Star
When you're as spry and charming as Ralph Stanley, you don't have to exert yourself too much to entertain people. You only need to be yourself. Sometimes the more elderly we get, the cuter we get.
But Ralph Stanley isn't your average, humorous 80-year-old with stories to tell and a repertoire of 1,000 one-liners. He's also the patriarch of the music with so many names: old-time country, mountain music, country-blues, bluegrass. And there's nothing cute about his heart-stopping, a cappella version of "O, Death."
He performed that song on Saturday night, before a big, loud and welcoming crowd at Knuckleheads. It was a little chilly outside, so the doors and windows were closed, which shut out the sounds of the trains whistling and rumbling by. Too bad, in a way. They would have embellished the mood.
He brought his band with him, the five-piece Clinch Mountain Boys (and unless my ears tricked me, the announcer at Knuckleheads called them the "Cinch Mountain Boys" at least once).
One of those Boys is Stanley's own, Ralph the Second, who has been nominated for some Grammys, who has released his own CDs that have been nominated for some Grammys (and are on sale at the merch table) and who will sell you the exclusive Stanley family-style guitar off his back, if you name the right price. You could buy yourself a Clinch Mountain Boy banjo, too.
Yes, you could not smoke inside Knuckleheads on Saturday but you could shill your ass off from the stage. The doctor, however, made it all seem respectable and honorable. He even took a seat at the merch table during the finale. He'd spent lots of time there after the show, posing for photos and signing anything, whether you bought it or brought it.
Ralph Stanley's banjo playing is still luminous.
The show was dandy. It lasted more than 100 minutes and included several sterling moments involving Stanley himself, like "O, Death" and "Man of Constant Sorrow." He also prompted the crowd to encourage him to strap on a banjo and show off his claw-hammer technique. The doctor is now an octogenarian, but he can still bring it.
He shared the spotlight generously with his band, especially his son. "Carrying On," Ralph II's devotional to his father and his late uncle, Carter Stanley, was one of the most sincere moments of the show.
Other highlights: "Cotton-Eyed Joe"; "Long Black Veil," featuring bass player Jack Cooke on vocals; a warp-speed rendition of "Orange Blossom Special," starring fiddler Dewey Brown; a cover of Bob Dylan's "Walking Down the Line"; and a celebratory rendition of the traditional gospel number "I'll Answer the Call."
Stanley and his boys have polished their chatter into a Branson-like routine that shines like the doctor's banjo. Before guitarist James Shelton took a song, Stanley said: "He comes from a family of singers. Even their sewing machine was a Singer." They have no drummer, so there was no rim shot, but one was implied.
When he introduced Cooke, he said: "He's been with me for 38 years, and he's only missed 40 or 50 shows." Cooke: "And I've only been drunk for about 100."
Before he let his band rip into the finale, Stanley told his audience what it already knew about him and his music: "The only thing I know is the old-fashioned way." But in his case, "old" doesn't mean out-of-fashion. It means "classic."
The opening band: Jason Eady & the Wayward Apostles played before and after Stanley and the Boys. They have lots of energy and an appealing sound that mixes old-time country and alt-country with blues and bluegrass. Several times they reminded me of Steve Earle's foray into bluegrass with the Del McCoury Band.
| Timothy Finn, The Star
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