Friday (June 11) at Bonnaroo saw an eclectic group of acts ranging from the dance-heavy LCD Soundsystem to the bluegrass Steve Martin and Steep Canyon Rangers. The Flaming Lips drew a huge crowd to the Which Stage while playing one set of hits and one “Dark Side of the Moon” set. Friday was headlined by Kings of Leon, who performed a surprising cover of the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” Pictured here are: The Black Keys, Carolina Chocolate Drops, Conan O’Brien, Daryl Hall and Chromeo, Dr. Dog, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, LCD Soundsytem, She & Him, Steve Martin and Steep Canyon Rangers, Tenacious D, The Gossip, and The National, and Tokyo Police Club.

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Download: The Honey Brothers “Demonstration”

(from the Demonstration EP available now from the Honey Brothers)

Yes, the dude on drums is the star of Entourage. But the Honey Brothers are no Dogstar—they play genuinely lovely music (though no “Eleanor Rigby”) that incorporates ukulele and banjo into the mix without a drop of ‘aw shucks.’ They speak to Dan Collins in a backstage green room at the Bumbershoot’s Starbucks stage, within spitting distance of the Space Needle.

I know Ari plays the ukulele and Adrian plays drums. What do the rest of you play?
Andrew Vladeck: I play guitar, banjo, and mandolin mostly.
D.S.: I play guitar, mostly. Some keyboard.
Adrian Grenier: We all come out and do little cameos on different instruments.
You use traditional Americana instruments, but it’s not an old-timey act.
D.S.: I think that we’re doing things with traditional instruments that are pretty surprising.
Andrew Vladeck: We started off as just sort of an old folk act, playing traditional Americana music and playing it on ukulele mostly. While we all had different musical tastes, we learned how to use that and combine it with our more modern influences.
Do you get some inspiration from people like Emmett Miller and Ukelele Ike—the veterans of ukulele music?
Ari Gold: You know, I find a lot of the ukulele-specific music of the past to be a little too ‘aw shucks’ for me. I like Hawaiian ukulele that has more sensuality to it. There’s a line from George Formby to ‘Eleanor Rigby’ that doesn’t quite work for me. I’d rather go from Don Ho to the Honey Brothers.
Andrew Vladeck: A lot of times traditional musicians seem to apologize for the instruments they play. They think the ukulele is too sweet, so they make it jokey, or they think the banjo is too redneck, so they make it hokey. But they aren’t necessarily—they’re just really earnest powerful friction instruments to express feelings of joy.
Adrian Grenier: I’m sorry, but we do not apologize—we will not apologize for what we play!
Ari Gold: I mean, you look at a man like Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, who’s like, you know…
I’m sorry—say that again?
Ari Gold: Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. I’m sure you’ve heard his rendition of ‘It’s a Wonderful World.’ It’s one of the great ukulele songs of the last ten or fifteen years, and he’s a Hawaiian musician who was able to really play the ukulele for pure soulfulness. No weakness! No Tiny Tim-ism. For me, I love it because they’re cheap so the entry level for anyone who wants to learn it is low, and it’s light and easy to carry so it’s great for travelers.
You guys have been described—or maybe it was self-description—as Hawaiian glam or folk glam. What’s the ‘glam’ part of your act?
Adrian Grenier: I think that’s the fun nature of how we see ourselves: in a carefree flamboyant raucous way.
Andrew Vladeck: Some of our songs are pretty theatrical.
The concept of the Honey Brothers is kind of theatrical. Why give yourselves those names?
Andrew Vladeck: Well, when we started as an old-time band, really, we wanted the freedom to create our own mythology. That was fun for us—to be something else. So it really hearkens back to that original creation. Now we’re a bit of an amalgam between what we were and what we’re trying to be, so the names are relevant but less so.
Steve Martin says the problem with movie and TV stars going into music is that some actors try to be rock stars first and rock musicians second. How do you avoid the trappings of that?
Adrian Grenier: I don’t really try, honestly! When the music isn’t playing, there’s a lot of anticipation and talk and gossip. But once the music starts, everything else just dissolves at the wayside and all you have is just the moment of music. And we kind of rely on that to get us through. And when people come see our shows or put on our CD, I think they’re with us!
Andrew Vladeck: The band has enhanced all of our lives in various ways. We’re able to bring our outside influences in, and when we go out and do our other projects, I think it only enhances it. If you’re a creative person, and you enjoy creating, it’s all the same whether it’s music, theater, the visual arts… It’s a way of living. So it’s not like one comes before the other.
But having a band with a famous director and actor in it is always going to affect how audiences perceive you. In the sixties, Don Grady, the actor from My Three Sons, actually wore a disguise to play incognito in the Yellow Balloon. Have you considered playing under a different name, to see if the crowd response is the same without the famous names?
Andrew Vladeck: When we started, none of us used our real names, so there was something in that. Now it’s real, and we take it as it comes.
Ari Gold: I’m actually proud of the dual career. I think it’s a sign of strength that all the Honey Brothers are multi-taskers.
Renaissance men?
Ari Gold: Renaissance fools. Jesters!
How do you compare to other same-name bands like the Donnas, the Ramones and the Traveling Wilburys?
Adrian Grenier: Well, we’re cuter than the Donnas, and definitely cuter than the Ramones…
Andrew Vladeck: In the Wilburys, everyone was a songwriter. Everyone comes from a different space, and that’s how this band came together. We were all doing various things, and we all realized that we had a good rapport with each other.
Would you ever cover ‘The Wilbury Twist?’
Andrew Vladeck: ‘The Peppermint Twist,’ maybe.
What is the most beautiful and wonderful song you’ve ever performed in your oeuvre?
Ari Gold: ‘Cocksucker Blues’ by the Rolling Stones. That’s the most judicious answer!
You guys have a song called ‘Coney Island Baby.’ Does the legacy of Lou Reed loom large over your music, being that you’re from New York?
Andrew Vladeck: That’s two separate questions, really. I mean, Lou Reed does and many of the New York art rock and punk rock and glam scenes do. We were just talking about Lou Reed today—how Sonny Honey [Dan Green] ran into him on an elevator and told him he liked his song, and Lou Reed ignored him. And then the other day when we were writing up one of our new songs that we’re going to play tonight called ‘New Attitude,’ I believe there was a direct reference—it was like, ‘You know, Lou Reed!’ And it was like, okay, we added that part.
Are you going to be recording new songs soon?
Andrew Vladeck: We plan on recording next month. We’re working with a producer, Malcolm Burns, who’s really great and has worked with a lot of our friends.
Are you excited about playing the Troubadour in a few days?
Adrian Grenier: I love the Troubadour! I’ve always wanted to play the Troubadour, but never had. They’ve got a great green room.
Tom Waits and Nickey Beat had a fight there in 1978. They locked everybody out and just had a brawl. If you could get in a fight with any musician in L.A., who would it be?
Adrian Grenier: Rufus Wainwright.
Do you think you’d win?
Adrian Grenier: Maybe it’s not to win.

THE HONEY BROTHERS WITH SOKO AND THE COLOURIST ON SUN., SEPT. 13, AT THE TROUBADOUR, 9081 SANTA MONICA BLVD., WEST HOLLYWOOD. 8 PM / $15 / ALL AGES. TROUBADOUR.COM. THE HONEY BROTHERS’ DEMONSTRATION EP IS AVAILABLE NOW FROM THE HONEY BROTHERS. VISIT THE HONEY BROTHERS AT THEHONEYBROTHERS.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/THEHONEYBROTHERS.

Charlyne Yi is a comedienne and musician who has opened for Akron/Family, has had members of Man Man and the Vandals cover her songs, and pees while being interviewed. She does not know who Spike Jones is, has never been high, and is not dating Michael Cera. This interview by Dan Collins.

Tell us about your latest band, Old Lumps.
It’s scary! I feel like that’s one of the more serious bands I’ve been doing, just because we’ve been practicing, and it’s five of us… sorry, I’m out of breath! I’m running upstairs.
Do you work out often?
Lots of weights! Big ones! And now I’m going to pee with you on the phone, because I’m disgusting.
Wow! Okay… so, how would you describe the Old Lumps sound?
Pain! Emotional pain! I’m realizing that most of my songs sound the same now. I’m trying to define each song so they don’t sound like a mass of songs.
You’re also in Chandelier Teeth, and the Glass Beef, and Helen Hunt and the Twisters. How many bands are you in?
Ha ha, I think it’s only five, but the Helen Hunt thing is just random, whenever me and Kate [Micucci] happen to be free. We don’t practice really. They’re bands, but they’re not that serious. These are just like, ‘You want to play music? Okay, let’s do it!’ Helen Hunt and the Twisters haven’t performed in over a year. I think we’ve only performed four times.
Now that your movie career is taking off, do you think you could get Helen Hunt on stage to sing with you guys?
We have an idea that we would have, you know, one of those cardboard cutouts of her? And we thought it would be funny if that was our thing, and then one day when we were playing, she’d be hiding behind the cutout of her and she’d pop out!
You have a project called the Music Scientist, where you record demos at home, and fairly talented bands you hardly know record their own, more fleshed-out versions of those songs and post them on YouTube and whatnot. How did you get that project off the ground?
I don’t know! I wrote a lot of songs, but I don’t actually like singing. I was like, oh, this song would sound so much better if I was a man with a burly voice, or I wish I had more range, like an opera singer. I can’t hit any of these notes that I hear in my head. I can play them out on a piano, but never give the song justice. And so I wrote a song. And this band I listened to on MySpace, Twain, this guy had a really great voice. We didn’t even really know each other, but he had seen me perform, and I liked his music. And so I asked him, and he did it. And after I got one person to agree, I was like, ‘I’m going to ask everyone!’ It’s been pretty cool, to see what people come up with.
Shel Silverstein wrote ‘A Boy Named Sue’ and a bunch of other songs for Johnny Cash. Is there a really famous singer you’d want to write for?
Celine Dion! She has such a good range. I used to sincerely love her as a kid. She goes like ‘whooooooaaa’ a lot! I’d be funny to make her do that too much, where it’s overboard, and people are uncomfortable. I think it’d be really fun to make her sing something really sincere, but something really ridiculous coming out of her mouth. Maybe something really redundant, like ‘I LOOOOVE him! I LOOOOVE him!’ Like twenty times, singing the same thing! Besides that, I just want to hear her say really cheesy stuff, like complimenting a boy. ‘Your skin is so soft and silky, and I want to kiss it! I want to kiss it bad!’
You haven’t snagged Celene Dion yet, but you did have David Quackenbush and Warren Fitzgerald from the Vandals cover one of your songs. Did you know who they were when you got in contact?
No! But David came to a Glass Beef show, and I met him. I was like ‘Oh, I really like their music!’ And I just wrote him. ‘Hey, we’re doing this project, for fun. And there’s no money, and we just give away the song for free. If you have time and you’re into this idea—it shouldn’t feel like homework, it should feel like something you’re actually passionate about—then I want you to do a song.’ And he did it, hee hee! But no, I live in a bubble. I didn’t know who the Vandals were.
Do you identify with John Travolta’s character in The Boy in the Bubble?
I’ve never even heard of it, really.
That’s too bad! We’re all Scientologists at L.A. RECORD. If you had a child with undiagnosed autism who died, what kind of song would you write for his funeral?
I would burn his body, and then I would use it in my coffee and drink it, so we could be one. And I would play ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon, and I’d imagine that he was here with me.
When you were a child, what music did you listen to? What are your primal influences?
I listened to K-Earth 101 a lot! And Elvis. And Queen. But I don’t think I sound like any of that stuff at all. I wish that I could, but I think it’s impossible for me.
Do you get inspiration from other musical comedians, like Spike Jones and Eric Idle?
I didn’t even know Spike Jonze did music! That’s really funny, ha ha!
No, not the director guy! Spike Jones from the thirties. He did ‘Der Fuhrer’s Face.’
Oh, ha ha, I’m way off! I’ve never heard of Spike Jones! I like Loudon Wainwright III. His stuff is a mixture of sincere stuff and comedy, too! And someone else just introduced me to Jonathan Richman, which I think is the same thing. It hits you instantly, and it’s funny, but there’s this undertone of sadness in what he’s singing. I found that really interesting, because when I do music, I like to throw people off by doing something silly and then doing something serious. People are like, ‘Whoa, should I not laugh at this?’
There does seem to be tenderness at the heart of your tunes. You and Kate Micucci might be singing about a booger trying to find its way back to the nose, but it’s sad at the same time.
We did do a weird booger song! I think sometimes me and Kate hide a true song with comedy, because we’re embarrassed of talking about something. That was like a mix of, ‘Oh, let’s sing about this lonely person!’ And we were like, ‘What if it’s a lonely booger?’ And we start laughing, because we were kind of getting depressed about what we’re singing about! It’s sad, but it’s also kind of gross and stupid. It’s fun to not take music too seriously. I think music is a great way to do comedy and still do sincere stuff. And I think comedy can be really sincere, too. It’s fun mixing with that kind of stuff. I have been reading Harpo Speaks, a book that Harpo Marx wrote, and I find him the most interesting guy ever. I starting taking up harp because I was reading that book! Something I related to is that he liked to play music, and back in those days, it didn’t have to always be funny. Like Steve Martin would tap dance, and play banjo, and some of the stuff he was doing wasn’t necessarily hilarious. But I was like, ‘I love to watch this! It’s kind of funny, but I love this song!’
Steve Martin’s Wild and Crazy Guy was one of the funniest comedy albums ever, but the song ‘King Tut’ sucked ass. What’s the secret to making a funny song funny?
I have no idea! My songs I think are kind of funny, but I don’t even know if they are funny. I did this one song where I almost cry in the middle of the song, but I’m not really crying, but I try to trick people into thinking I am, and people start laughing! Nothing about the words is funny—it’s just about the way the song is delivered, and how uncomfortable it is to see someone almost break down in the middle of the song. I’m not sure if my songs are funny, and I don’t understand why people laugh at them! I have no idea.
Steve Martin would open for bands when he was getting his start, like the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Earl Scruggs. Have you opened for any acts that L.A. RECORD readers might know?
I have. It’s really scary! I’ve opened for Akron/Family, and I’ve opened for Sasha Smith. One time I opened for Man Man, and my set was broken up into two chunks of fifteen minutes. So I opened at the very beginning, and a band played, and it was supposed to be me again, and then Man Man. And when the band went off, they were like, ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, Man Man!’ And it was supposed to be me next! And my friend from Man Man, Honus, carried me out, and I was like ‘I don’t want to go! People are going to boo me! Last time I went up, there was like 30 people there. Right now there’s hundreds of people who don’t know who I am from the last performance!’ And I go up there, and people are like, ‘Go back to Jersey! Get off the stage!’ And there was this guy who was like ‘I’m going to fuck you up! I’m going to go up there on stage and fuck you up!’ Thank god he didn’t go up there, but they booed me so I couldn’t talk at all! It’s rough sometimes.
Have you ever considered getting revenge by getting a band to open for your stand-up act, and having the audience boo that band?
I’ve thought of other ways to mess with them, in a non-malicious way. I opened for the Akron/Family in New York at the same place, and I thought, ‘I’m at the same place—I’m going to get booed again!’ And I thought if they boo me, I’ll be like, ‘Uh, the Akron/Family didn’t show up today, and so they asked me to fill in for them, and I’ll have to play each instrument alone, but just pretend they’re all playing at the same time. So it might take awhile.’ And so I’d just go do guitar, then go do drums… That was my back-up plan. But I didn’t get booed. So that’s nice!
Who do you think works harder, musicians or comedians?
I think both equally work as hard, just in different ways. Most comedians don’t get paid for 95% of their gigs, if not more! I’ve only been paid like twice in my life. It’s kind of disgusting, the realization that oh, I perform comedy for free—I’m like a big nerd! I just do this out of a hobby! I really like performing, and don’t get paid really! The way the venues work, most musicians get paid for their gigs, even if it’s a couple bucks. They get a cut of the door and stuff usually. But with comedy, you get a reaction with the laughter, and know immediately how you’re doing. With music, at a bar, people will talk over your music, and that kind of shocks! But then there’s the energy of the room. You’re like, ‘I think this is going well, but I have no idea why!’
There’s a lot of press recently about the renaissance in L.A.’s music scene, and we also have a bumper crop of funny comedians nowadays. But those scenes don’t connect nearly enough. How can we bridge that gap?
It’s weird. A lot of musicians I’ve met want to be comedy writers and perform comedy, and a lot of comedians want to perform music. Like my friend Paul Rust, he wanted to be in a band and stuff, and somehow we got mixed into comedy. And my friend from Man Man, he studied script-writing and stuff.
You not only co-wrote the script for Paper Heart, but you co-wrote the score! How did that happen?
Me and Michael Cera had never scored anything, had been writing music just in general, and sending these songs to Nick, the director. And he was like, ‘Why don’t you guys score the movie?’ And we were like, ‘That sounds awesome. But we have no idea how to do that.’ And so through the whole process of filming the movie and editing, me and Michael had separately been writing songs, and we would place them into the editing thing and see how the song would change the scene. And from that we ended up with this guy named Alden Penner from the Unicorns. I had never heard of them, but Michael was a really big fan of them, and sent me a CD of his solo stuff, which is music that Alden had just written in his bedroom. And I was really into that stuff, and so we contacted him and told him what we were doing, and showed him clips. And he was into producing it, and he had never produced a movie score either! So we were all new to this idea, and he flew up from Canada, and we all kind of experimented with the songs and tried to get them in different variations. It was fun!
You seem to have incurred the wrath of thousands of female Michael Cera fans by having a relationship with him.
It’s so strange! I have crushes on characters in movies, but I wouldn’t understand actually hating someone because of that. I don’t think that hate is true, because you can’t hate someone unless you actually know them. These people are crazy! How can you not like someone based on some weird form of jealousy that doesn’t even make sense? And me and Michael aren’t dating, actually, which is stranger. I’ve had people come up to me after shows who are like ‘Oh my gawd! That’s that girl that’s dating Michael!’ And one of them will come up to me and be like, ‘How old are yeeew?’ And I’ll lie to them and say I’m really old, and they’ll be like, ‘Ew, that’s so gross!’ Ha ha, okay!?! And how can they know and like someone if they don’t actually know them, if they only ever see glimpses of characters, or interviews. I’ve gotten weird hate mail regarding Michael. And I wrote them like, ‘Hey, we’re not even dating! I don’t know why you hate me; if it’s because of Michael, we’re not dating, so I guess you don’t hate me anymore?’ And they’ll just write, ‘Fuck you, you fucking bitch!’ I don’t take it personally. They don’t really know me.
You and Michael aren’t dating anymore?
No! How did you know that we were dating, if we were dating? People will say a lot of things! People said that I’m 33, and that was like a big issue, because people were like, ‘Why would a 33-year-old not believe in love in this documentary?’ It’s not even like a true documentary! There’s a lot of misconceptions about who I am and how old I am and who I’m dating. Two people came up to me and said, ‘Oh, where’s your husband?’ I don’t have a husband!
It sucks that people are judging you based on characters you portray! I mean, your breakout role was a stoner in Knocked Up, which isn’t you at all.
I enjoy acting, but I think it’s hard for people to cast me in things, because I don’t really fit a lot of things, and I don’t have much range. I’m not really a great actor. And after that movie, a lot of people wanted me to play a stoner, too. I didn’t know how I played a stoner! I think I did a really bad job, actually. I think I was just tired that day, and I sound like I’m stoned when I’m tired, and I was laughing at nothing! And I’ve never actually even been high.
Paul Reubens had to create a whole stage show for his Pee Wee Herman character before he could evolve past doing little roles in Cheech and Chong films and make his own mark. Do you think Paper Heart is a good way for you to present your best self to the public?
I think our movie has a lot of things I do in normal stage performances. I like mixing reality with fiction—whenever I bring an audience member up and make them do a half-hour show with me, that’s like them playing with me and taking them for this ride. It isn’t real, but it is real, because it’s a real person and they’re really interacting with me. In Paper Heart, I tried to play myself as much as possible, since I am playing a character named Charlyne Yi, and I am interviewing real people. But sometimes I am weird and I don’t come off natural, even when I am being myself. I think this is a good representation of me trying to be myself, ha ha! I don’t know if I always want to be myself in other roles, but I don’t know if I have a choice, because I don’t have range. I wish I had more range. That’d be awesome!

CHARLYNE YI’S PAPER HEART ON FRI., JUNE 25, AT THE L.A. FILM FESTIVAL AT THE LANDMARK 8, 10850 W. PICO BLVD., LOS ANGELES. 5 PM / $12 / ALL AGES. LAFILMFEST.COM. VISIT CHARLYNE YI AT MYSPACE.COM/CHARLYNEYI.

Earl Scruggs started out picking banjo for Bill Monroe but made his name and fame with Lester Flatt as Flatt and Scruggs until 1969. After that, he took his family and friends out as the Earl Scruggs Revue and covered Dylan and shared songs with the Byrds. He speaks now (with son and musician Gary) before his performance at Stagecoach. This interview by Dan Collins.

How old were you when you started playing banjo?
Earl Scruggs: Very small. My dad had an old banjo, and I loved music long as I can remember. I played before I even knew what radio was.
I guess you got your first big break when you joined Bill Monroe’s group. Why did you and Lester Flatt decide to quit and start your own group?
ES: We felt like if we worked for ourselves, we’d make more money. We did much better.
When the sixties hit, and the first big folk music wave came along, you and Lester embraced it in a way not all bluegrass musicians did. Do you think having sons who were young helped you find that passion?
ES: Oh, for sure. Aw, yeah!
Gary Scruggs: With the folk boom—some people call it the ‘folk scare’—my mother was instrumental in getting a lot of things done. Dad knew Joan Baez, and through that friendship, mother knew her manager, Manny Greenhill. And that helped Flatt and Scruggs get involved with the folk boom.
In ‘69, you and Flatt covered Bob Dylan’s ‘Rainy Day Women #12 and 35.’ Did you worry that this might be seen as promoting drug use?
ES: No, I just hoped it would be seen as promoting a good song.
GS: I’ve always thought of that song as more about being persecuted or criticized. The line, ‘They’ll stone you when you’re trying to keep your seat,’ always reminds me of Rosa Parks.
ES: That’s what makes Bob such a great songwriter—different songs can mean different things to different people.
And you also did a television special called Earl Scruggs: Family and Friends, and you played with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, and the Byrds. Were they able to keep up with you musically?
ES: Well, they had their show, and we’d do theirs. We didn’t play together as a band.
But I have seen footage of you playing with the Byrds.
ES: Well, yeah. They were friends of ours. We had some songs we could do together.
Did you get criticism from the mainstream bluegrass camp for playing with rock and folk acts?
ES: That’s one thing I don’t pay any attention to. I do what I think’s best, and to heck with other people’s opinion! I respect their opinion, but I still gotta make a living.
Bob Dylan caused a lot of controversy when he ‘went electric’ at the Newport Folk
Festival in 1965. At what year did you start using electric bass and guitar in your band, and did it cause the same kind of controversy?
ES: In 1969, the year we formed the Earl Scruggs Revue—Gary played electric bass and Randy switched back-and-forth between acoustic and electric guitars, depending on the song we were playing. We also used a full drum set, and then added piano, so it was a big sound.
GS: You asked if it caused any controversy—there were some pretty harsh criticisms of dad from some of the hardcore bluegrass fans that didn’t like electric instruments and drums period. But the Revue wasn’t a bluegrass band, and we never claimed to be a bluegrass band. Overall, the positive response far outweighed the negative.
ES: Right. I never wanted to be categorized as just ‘bluegrass.’ The Revue played for a heck of a lot more young people than Lester and I ever did, and it was an exciting time. The Revue played on a lot of college campuses, and rock festivals, too. I gained a lot more fans with the Revue than I ever lost.
On the album that was released after that show, there’s a sound clip of your speaking out against the Vietnam War.
ES: Well, that’s way in the past now. I didn’t believe in what was going on at the time.
GS: I just want to be clear: Dad has never not supported soldiers and troops. He’s been a firm supporter of people who have sacrificed for our country. We were just against the Vietnam policies.
In fact, Earl, you supported the war effort in World War II by working in a factory, isn’t that right?
ES: Well… my dad died when I was four years old. I was left with a mother and a half-sister. I was making a pretty good living in the mill, so I worked in the mill because I had to make my salary every week. Then I learned I could make more money in the music business, so I left the mill and moved to the radio and the show business.
You invented a mechanism for the banjo, didn’t you? I was reading that there was a time when you would play with a big box over the neck of your banjo, so no one could steal your idea before you patented it.
ES: No, that’s what got out—that I was trying to conceal it. What it was was tillers. They worked like a cam[shaft]. I just took a brace and bit… you know what a ‘brace and bit’ is?
I don’t know what a brace and bit is.
ES: It’s a manual drill that you bore holes through wood with. I turned the banjo over and bored down through the inlay and everything, put two extra pegs on it—which were nothing but cams to push the strings—run it down to a D and then push it back up in the G position.
So it would sound like a slide almost. You could detune a note while it was resonating.
ES: Right. Very good!
I think that speaks to one of the qualities that’s unique to you, regardless of what genre we’re talking about. You’ve got precision, and you’re fast. But there’s a certain amount of soul as well. Do you think you cut a good line there between playing fast, but also having that spirit?
ES: Well, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout, ha ha.
I mean, I was reading about Todd Taylor, who has the Guinness World’s Record for playing the fastest banjo…
ES: I don’t participate in ‘speed.’ I think speed is alright, as long as you control it. But you can get it so fast you can’t pick it yourself.
Who do you think, out of all the musicians you’ve gotten to play with, is the person you’ve looked at and said, ‘Wow, that’s one of the best people I’ve seen play that instrument?’
ES: Well, let’s put it this way. All musicians—most of ‘em—are good. Even those musicians themselves are better on some tunes than others. So that’s what makes the world go round. They’re all good, but they play different tunes well.
What was the tune of yours that you thought you played the best?
ES: ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown,’ I guess would be the most successful one.
That was the one that was in the movie Bonnie and Clyde.
ES: That’s right. I recorded it way on back, and then I had a request to do a music score for the movie.
GS: It was Warren Beatty Dad’s referring to.
ES: …and he found that record I’d recorded earlier, and told me, never mind, he’d found what he wanted. So he used the old recording of ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown.’
Did that open a lot of doors for you, and increase your popularity?
ES: It sure did. It was like The Beverly Hillbillies. It went nationwide.
You’ll be playing in Indio, California at the end of this month, at the Stagecoach Festival. Will Steve Martin be in your touring band this time, playing second banjo?
ES: I don’t know if Steve will be around or not.
GS: Dad did a re-recording of ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown’ in 2001, and Steve was one of the featured performers on that, including Paul Schaeffer, Vince Gill, Leon Russell, and a bunch of people.
Did you see Steve Martin perform back in the late sixties and early seventies? I know he opened for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band quite a few times.
GS: We did quite a few concerts with the Dirt Band, some of which we opened, some of which they opened. It was co-billing most of the time. And Steve was involved a couple of times then.
ES: Steve Martin at the time was a stand-up comic. I don’t know if you remember that—he had a thing with like an arrow stuck through his head. He did real well.
I’ve got a recording of you playing with the Dirt Band, and you’re covering Mike Nesmith, who’d been in the Monkees. Did you like his music a lot?
ES: Well, I liked what we was doing at the time. I didn’t care whose music it was. If it sounded good, I’d say ‘Let’s do it.’
GS: That was ‘Some of Shelley’s Blues.’
That’s right, and Gary, you sang on that one! How long have you guys been playing as father and sons?
ES: Oh, since they were in school. We had Earl Scruggs, Family and Friends, on the road about eleven, twelve years.
What was your relationship with the Carter Family?
ES: Mother Maybelle Carter was my musical hero early on. I loved the way she played guitar and I was a big fan of the Carter Family. She moved to the Nashville area and lived near where we lived. We became friends and visited one another quite often. I never met A.P., but I got to know Sara a little from when she was in town to visit with Maybelle.
GS: Flatt & Scruggs recorded an album with Maybelle in 1961.
ES: We sure did—Songs Of The Famous Carter Family was what it was called. My wife, Louise, was also a big Carter Family fan and she suggested we do an album of Carter Family songs and I asked Mother Maybelle if she would like to record with us for it. Maybelle had pretty much retired from music and was working in a nursing home, sitting with people who needed some help or needed some company to help pass the time. Anyway, we recorded the album and did some shows together. I was glad to see Maybelle back at it, singing and playing her guitar and autoharp.
GS: And you got Maybelle involved with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s original Will The Circle Be Unbroken album.
ES: Yes. The Dirt Band had asked me to take part in it and also to help get some of the other artists involved—Mother Maybelle, Roy Acuff, Jimmy Martin, and Doc Watson. It was a lot of fun for me to be back in the studio with her.
I was interviewing Chris Darrow from the Dirt Band a few weeks back, and he was saying that he and Steve Martin and a bunch of people who went on to be in popular bands later all got their start playing bluegrass at Disneyland when they were really young, like it was a boot camp for musicians. Now Disney pushes out people like Britney Spears. Do you worry that there’s no place for young musicians to learn to play bluegrass or banjo?
ES: No, no no, there’ll always be good banjo pickers. We may not be as many at times as others, but as long as they play well, they’re gonna get out there!

EARL SCRUGGS WITH THE REV. HORTON HEAT, REBA, THE CHARLIE DANIELS BAND AND MANY MORE ON SAT., APR. 25, AT STAGECOACH AT THE EMPIRE POLO FIELD, 81-800 AVENUE 51, INDIO. NOON / $79-$499 / ALL AGES. STAGECOACHFESTIVAL.COM. VISIT EARL SCRUGGS AT EARLSCRUGGS.COM.