Rooted Deeply

I’m up in Whitmore Lake tonight, catching a performance of Cats and the Fiddler at the Northfield Township Area Library. It’s an always favorite place, spiced up tonight by a spot of bluegrass music on the lawn. Cats and the Fiddler is an unexpected group—a trio of fifteen-year old musicians.

Fifteen-year old musicians playing bluegrass—bluegrass!—and playing it with skill. They’re rooted deeply into an older America, evoked by their instrumentals and traditional folk tunes. Even their own tunes, where a man might spend his life shoveling coal, or Jezebel is sinning again, have a feeling of being older than the years these musicians can lay claim to.



Photo courtesy of Mike Ball.

I'm watching Carmen Gibes. Her fingers are flicking out over the instantly recognizable sound of the banjo—pausing for a moment to let Shaun Richardson's guitar rest up against the sound of his twin brother James’s upright bass—the upright bass pulling the music along through the basic, constant patterns of chord changes—then her fingers are moving again, and her voice is rising over the sound of the instruments, joined in close harmony by both boys. They’re playing tunes with the tricky tumbling of the mandolin instead of a guitar, guitar instead of banjo, fiddle instead of mandolin, each instrument counterbalanced against the other. The licks pass quickly, but with space enough for a finger-flying solo, a change in color and tone and texture, a patch of walking bass from James instead of simple chord foundations.

And then—besides the mesmerizing, busy fingers plucking music from too many strings—James is singing lead, his voice loose and young against the crisp twang of the mandolin, Shaun and Carmen vining their voices around his. The tune ends—pause for a moment—here is Shaun with his fiddle. He’s got a clear toe-tapping sound for a train-whistle tune—and then again, faster!

We slow down for the story of the band told through the tune ‘Road to Nashville.’ It’s instantly relatable, sweet and singable (if only I knew the words!). They’ve told us their story between tunes, how they began playing music, making the switch to bluegrass at age six…how they’ve been a band ever since (the math on that puts Cats and the Fiddler at nine years old). Here, they’ve put the words to the tune, invited us to step closer and watch them grow.

They’ve got a few last tunes for us, including one of my favorite traditional folk-tunes, ‘The Fox’ (otherwise known as ‘The Fox Went Out On A Chilly Night’) and a gospel tune or two. Shaun is whispering to James and Carmen, and I’m surprised when they finish up with an instrumental—but with improvisation. The high, bright sounds of the mandolin spill from Shaun’s hands—Carmen goes at it with her three-finger picking style on the banjo while he switches out to guitar—James gives us a straightforward bass solo—and then suddenly, unexpectedly, the show is over. The air is bluegrass-less. I am holding on to my inner echoes, and my feet are taking me home.

This performance took place August 6, 2010.