Guitars Have Feelings Too
an interview with Cameron Knowler
“Can a guitarist learn fiddle tunes from other guitarists? Should they?”
“Is Norman Blake unique or just a product of his influences?”
“What role can a method book have in the folk tradition?”
Musician and instructor Cameron Knowler has given a lot of thought to these questions, and provides some responses in his new book, Guitars Have Feelings Too: A Method for Rural Guitarists. However, Cameron is not one to tell us what to think. Instead, like the researcher he is, Cameron uses examples from America's foundational flatpicking guitarists to explore their common connections. These threads ultimately support a point of view that Cameron believes will help flatpickers become more informed players, listeners, and students. We connected with Cameron to learn more about the project.
Tell me a little bit about ‘Guitars Have Feelings Too.’
Guitars Have Feelings Too was written to improve upon the guitar book as a method of teaching, while developing a new perspective on the topic of flatpicking guitar. Analyzing the stylings of historically progressive backup guitar players (Jim Baxter, Norman Blake, Maybelle Carter, and Riley Puckett), the reader is led through the bedrock tenets of American rhythm guitar; one that is inherently progressive, I argue.
This conversation touches on technique, theory, and how to better listen to the information provided by the fiddle. Applying these interrelated points to the subject of melodic guitar, the last quarter of the book introduces a largely unknown guitarist who conveniently exists as a crossover between oldtime and bluegrass music, while setting in motion various points made throughout the narrative. It is with this information that the reader is encouraged to reevaluate flatpicking guitar as a continuation of the dance traditions which later developed into bluegrass music, as opposed to a genre of purely virtuosic instrumental music. The format of this method book includes longer examples in the back, neatly labeled in an appendix, with shorter examples woven into the manuscript to aid a focused learning experience.
How does it distinguish itself from other books already out there about flatpicking guitar or guitar back-up in the fiddle tradition?
I believe it is different in that it is concerned with developing the creativity and intuition of the reader. Yes, I use notation to represent instances in recording history that I deem significant, but I am more concerned with components of the narrative which engage the epistemology, or decision making choices exercised by the practitioner. It is more influenced by renaissance books about diminution and improvising than it is methods in the genre of flatpicking or country guitar (though there are many good ones). I also love the platform of jazz method books such as “Harmonic Mechanisms for Guitar” by George Van Eps, and “Chord Chemistry” by Ted Greene. They’re both independently quirky and interesting without ever picking up, or thinking about, your guitar.
The tagline for the book is “a method for rural guitarists.” Can you explain why you chose that specific phrasing-- ‘rural guitarist’-- over say, oldtime guitar or flatpicking guitar?
The most important thread of the book is highlighting the interrelated qualities (or, rather, the lack of distinguishing factors) of rhythm and melody, which is a concept borrowed from jazz pedagogy. Applying this to the domain of early country music and bluegrass, I wanted a term that covered it all. I believe the term “rural” implies pre-commercial, or oldtime music, more so than it does bluegrass which was very much intentional. Perhaps it is a ploy to inject more nuance into the discussion of flatpicking guitar.
Where did the idea for the book come about?
The impetus of the book came from me tying together the threads of influence I gleaned from my guiding stars, or heroes; most notably, Norman Blake. Listening to his music early on, both solo and in collaboration with Nancy Blake and James Bryan, I sensed a richness I wasn’t detecting in the other players I was heavily inspired by. Like anything else, the deeper I traveled and the more I learned, the closer I got to their influences; the things I was abstractly responding to in the recordings. As a result, this project feels very organic to me in its conception and delivery.
You studied jazz guitar in an academic setting. How does that inform your approach to rural guitar?
I think it informs an approach to teaching that uses theoretical devices. I acknowledge that this is fundamentally at odds with the oral tradition of oldtime music. However, I only use principles of music theory when I believe a concise description can’t as easily be afforded by listening, or pointing to source material. My core philosophy is that theory is only good for justifying what our ears heard beforehand.
Who is the intended audience for the book? How do you want them to use the book?
I don’t want people to get the impression that I am telling them how to play a given genre. This is simply an account given through the lens of my experience, which I think is most relatable to flatpickers who are drawn to the richness of oldtime music. I find it ironic that guitarists learn fiddle tunes from other guitar players. If I could have one wish granted in the world, it would be for flatpickers to learn their melodies from fiddlers directly (whether it be in-person, or through transcription).
Coincidentally, the people I’ve transcribed from are all related in their sensibilities. Because of this, I believe the book contributes to the conversation of oldtime backup guitar in that I’ve deliberately chosen to weave together diverse narratives that are tied together by an ethic of melodic, or comparatively “maximalistic,” playing styles. In some ways, I wish to disrupt the canonized landscape of melodic guitar. I would like readers to utilize the book by acknowledging the limits and bounds of my analysis; to know where I’m coming from, and to analyze the implications of who I’ve chosen to transcribe from and talk about.
You raise an interesting point about tune sharing between flatpickers vs learning melodies from a fiddler. What is lost when melodies are shared within a guitar-only context?
Most importantly, I feel that the tune’s harmonic rhythm changes. Instead of carrying forward the dance traditions facilitated by the pulse of early fiddle music, it becomes what I call “guitar music,” and largely a vehicle for virtuosity (in many ways this applies to bluegrass fiddling, but to a lesser extent due to the fact that bowing is still involved). This is largely due to the ways in which a tune is presented within the context of a bluegrass band. To “cut through,” so to speak, fiddle tunes are often played in higher registers of the guitar. In my opinion, this contributes to the sterility that is central to the reification process of these tunes.
When we think of Bach’s violin sonatas, we never associate the limited register with a lack of warmth. This is due to how the material is taught, with emphasis on tone production, as well as selecting string sets and positions that are most conducive to allowing a melody to sing. My book wishes to extend this line of thinking to flatpicked guitar, using the oldtime tradition as a benchmark."
Aside from the cross and polyrhythms heard in oldtime music, a large part of its feel is how melodies are worked up and presented on the fiddle. This includes the bow itself, and the framework of letting notes drone and ring into one another in precise, and not-so-precise ways. I try to address both of these areas with exercises and discussions that suffice as meditations, most importantly.
You note that you fall between the cracks of the two camps of more melodically-driven bluegrass guitar players and oldtime guitar players who take a more simplified back-up approach. What does that in-between space look like to you? Why straddle that line?
I think that the building blocks of solid rhythm can be clearly represented by the tendencies of more austere backup players. Using this as a tool for teaching, I’m very interested in what happens when we assign the rhythmic weight and intentionality of a strum to our single note playing. Furthermore, I believe that when we adopt this sensibility, we can contribute to the conversation as rhythm players in ways that are more androgynous than tradition lays out for us. I am not condoning flatpickers to hop into an oldtime jam and start playing the melody, or play excessive bass runs in any context; rather, I want to open the door for more involved conversation; one that isn’t so black and white, and that maybe flatpicking is, idiomatically, much older than we think.
You mention a few different guitarists in the book, notably Jim Baxter, Norman Blake, Maybelle Carter, and Riley Puckett. How are they unified? What nuance is there between one another?
I think they all represent a camp of guitar players who are unabashedly progressive in their own ways and contexts. Most ostensibly, Maybelle Carter formalized many of the facets of melodic guitar that we now interact with, whereas Puckett famously colored The Skillet Lickers recordings with heavy-handed runs and proto-flatpicking breaks. Jim Baxter is lesser known, in huge part because he was a Black man, though even a quick listen will reveal a brilliant approach that is both congruent with Georgia stringband music, while pushing forward in many ways that call to mind what Jimmie Rodgers made famous (as does Puckett). This is all aside from the fact that Jim and his father, Andrew, recorded the summer before Rodgers’s first session.
Norman, to me, represents all of those approaches tied into one. To my ear, he sounds like he is synthesizing the melodic tendencies of Mother Maybelle (i.e. translating melodies to the low strings of the guitar), while punctuating his rhythmic phrases with Riley Puckett’s framework; or what I’ve termed, the “Georgia clave.” During his second DVD on Homespun, Norman cites Carter and Puckett as his two biggest early influences. I didn’t realize this until after I wrote the book. Haha. This ties in to your second question, I think.
How would you characterize Norman’s playing in the context of the Rising Fawn String Ensemble and with fiddler James Bryan in comparison to his more “bluegrass-oriented” records? Is there a steady thread you hear through all of these or is there a shift in an approach when he’s playing fiddle tunes?
That’s a great question. To my ear, there aren’t many bluegrass oriented recordings of his, aside from his really early work with the Lonesome Travelers (Blake on mando), the Aereo Plain record, and the Blake & Rice albums. Even still, his approach is very much traditionally minded, by comparison to Rice and other flatpickers. His sense of drive, in the fashion of Georgia stringband music, remains intact throughout his recording output. His main tendency, in the vein of Mother Maybelle, is to present melodies on the lower strings, allowing notes to ring into one another; a feature that is not conducive to “cutting” in a bluegrass band. However, we do hear examples of him moving higher in register, especially in his recordings with Tony. However, his sense of ornamentation is very much akin to this longtime collaborator, James Bryan; someone who elegantly honors bygone generations of fiddling.
Touching more on your question about him shifting his style in relation to context, that’s a tough one to speak to. I believe the major shift is how self-contained his arrangements will be. When playing with the Rising Fawn String Ensemble, he clings to Nancy’s backup playing, and often strays away from his tendency to almost exclusively fit melodies around chords. This often results in less crosspicked filler in the lower strings, and the use of higher keys to be more sympathetic to James’s repertoire and taste. Making frequent use of the capo, Norman proves that you can achieve a very full sound even in registers up the neck (as does Maybelle). Tying back to my brief mention of Bach’s sonatas and their rhythmic weight within a rather confined register, I think the RFSE epitomizes this concept. I believe the term “chamberfolk” has been used to describe them, and I think it does good justice to how large they sound, despite the size of their ensemble.
Furthermore, I think a good example of Norman’s ability to modulate his playing style can be found in his backup approach on Brother Oswald’s recording of Wabash Cannonball, compared to the version he recorded with Nancy. His playing on the Oswald recording is very reflective of his Puckett listening, while his performance with Nancy shows his thought process in taking a rather simple melody and placing it in the lower register (though he also takes a high break, with crosspicked fills and rest strokes at 1:40). It is also worth comparing these versions to Mother Maybelle’s playing on the Carter Family recording.
If one wants to hear Norman getting absolutely crazy and contradicting many of his so-called rules of self-containment, locate a vinyl of his record, Old and New, and listen to “Rubagfre.” Sadly, it was cut from the digital, cassette and CD versions of this record.
The pandemic really limited people’s ability to play together. How can flatpicking guitarists best use their time to advance their skills and craft to prepare themselves for jams again?
I believe these are fecund times for the mental game of music, and for transcribing. In this way, I’ve been trying to listen more, and transcribe those pesky tunes and phrases that have been neglected on my to-do list. I also find it a helpful practice to record over your own backing tracks. Listening in a sober way to both your rhythm and lead playing can reveal idiosyncrasies in phrasing and inflection that otherwise blend in with the tendencies of our collaborators. Oh, also purchasing Guitars Have Feelings Too isn’t a bad idea either!
Cameron’s book can be purchased in the “store” section of his website, www.cameronknowler.com.
