Article By John Brayfield
Enjoying bluegrass music and seeing old friends and making new ones is what bluegrass festivals are all about but, sometimes even the joy of bluegrass can be bittersweet. Such was the case for many residents of the the Missouri Ozarks who attended Lester Foster's 23rd Annual Spring Golden Valley Bluegrass Jamboree at the Lester Foster Music Park in Clinton, Missouri May 1, 2, 3 and 4. For most of the people in Southwest Missouri the first in May 2003 will be remembered as the time of some of the most deadly storms in state history.
For me, it will not only be remembered as the day my neighbors were literally blown from their home, but it was also the weekend I first heard a phenomenal band called Lost Highway. Where have I been? I can't believe it took me this long to discover one of the greatest bluegrass bands to come along in years. True, when one thinks of bluegrass music Riverside, California is not the first musical turf to pop into one's mind. Kentucky, West Virginia, Tennessee and maybe the Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks might qualify as popular venues for mountain and traditional bluegrass music. But, I think it's safe to say that Riverside would be on no one's top-ten list of bluegrass hot beds. However, it was in San Rafael, California, just north of San Fransisco, that I attended my first bluegrass festival and fell in love with the music. Ironically enough, Paul Shelasky, fiddle player for Lost Highway, performed at that festival held back in 1974. Bluegrass was not a popular career path for a classically trained musician back then and come to think of it, it still isn't.
Paul, though he might argue the point, adds a certain air of professionalism to the band by drawing on his classical music training to bring out phrases and voices on the violin -- excuse me fiddle -- that few self or family/friend taught fiddlers (as extraordinary as they are) even know exist. He never holds the violin against the inside of his elbow; he seemingly always holds his instrument in the "correct" position; and you most likely will never see him play the fiddle between his knees or behind his back. His love for bluegrass music obviously comes from the heart -- if not from the hills. Shelasky is only one of five reasons that these guys from sunny Southern California light up a bluegrass stage as brightly as any band of southern good-ol'-boys or Appalachian purists.
Paul ShelaskyThe voice of Ken Orrick (pronounced just like the eight-pound vacuum cleaner) is nothing short of miraculous. In a time when most money-driven singers are stretching their vocal cords to reach notes in melodies like they were black hats and brightly colored cotton shirts hanging atop a Top 100 Country Hits Record Chart, Orrick remains a vocal natural. Orrick's voice is neither demanding nor diminished. The power is there in the feeling and emotion he pours out in every song. But, there is gentleness, understanding and empathy in Ken's voice as well. When he sings about how "no girls in the whole wide world can break your heart like Virginia girls" the listener has no doubt that not only does he know all about having his heart broke by a Virginia girl but he knows how she truly compares to the rest of the girls in the world because he's had his heart broken by them all. Orrick is master of his craft -- the craft of making a person feel just what the songwriter felt as he first conceived the idea -- whether it be joy, pain, laughter or sorrow. What's truly remarkable is that he does this with other songwriter's songs as well as his own. Like true "country" singers before him (those like Hank Williams, Lefty Frizzel, Web Pierce, Ray Price and Merle Haggard) Orrick takes the beauty and truth of the ballad and spotlights it on the bluegrass stage. The honesty and strength that was once country music is still alive. It just exists on a different stage and wears a different hat -- or as in Orricks case -- no hat at all.
Ken OrrickLost Highway is rounded out by three more of the finest bluegrass musicians and just all-around nice guys you would ever want to meet. Dick Brown, on banjo is as good a five-string picker as any out there. On any given night he could hold his own with any one of the legends of the five-string banjo. And if they held a funny tie contest, he would win hands down. There are few things funnier than a banjo player in a Tasmanian Devil or Tweety Bird tie.
Dick BrownEric Uglam, mandolin and sometimes guitar player, brings something to the band that is often lacking in other groups -- energy. Eric blurs a photo even when he appears to be standing still. His mind already three songs ahed and his feet are tapping out the rhythms to six songs simultaneously. What helps make Orrick's seemingly effortless rendering of bluegrass standards and self-penned songs possible is the backing by Eric's perfectly timed mandolin rhythm chop. The lead breaks he plays during many of Lost Highway's stage performances and recordings is beautiful and precise but it is his wonderful masterfulness of the mandolin "chop" that gives Lost Highway it's unique sound.
Eric UglamCoupled with the strong bass backing of Marshall Andrews, the strong rhythm line literally carries the audience away to a place where nothing but the music exists.
Marshall AndrewsAnd the beauty of it all is that the audience believes it is Ken Orrick, lead singer and guitar player, who is leading the band. Orrick himself though seems to be humble enough to know that he doesn't drive the Lost Highway alone. But, that is what makes Lost Highway, in it's present incarnation, a band and not just some guys on stage backing a front man. There is no over-powering ego and no narrowed spotlight. Every man is equal on the Lost Highway. It's music from the heart that's extraordinarily good for the soul. This is a band that will make a bold mark in bluegrass music. They may live in California but their hearts are rooted in the hills and hollows of bluegrass music.
For more information and to view their schedule, go to:
Lost Highway Bluegrass Band
