Doc Stevens, Big Dave on the Music They Play: Why they don’t like Bluegrass, and other observations.
Tondeleo: As you know, I initially expected rural Americans, especially those from the southern Appalachian region, to all play bluegrass music, ad to only like bluegrass. That is why I was surprised when I first began meeting Doc, Big Dave and their friends, because not only do they not play bluegrass music, but they seem to have an aversion to it.
I have learnt these past few years that some of the aversion is shame. Shame for the poverty they grew up in, shame for being thought of as hillbillies, and shame for the memories that some of the bluegrass music evoked. I had never thought of these factors.
I always thought of bluegrass as happy, simple music that hearkened back to a simpler more honest and good time in simpler and more wholesome environments. But for many people who lived in those times and places the memories are anything but good.
Doc: See, Tondy, to a office boy what has never been
down to where we lived, it seems good and happy. Or if someone been away a while. But if you lived there and were dirt poor, and your daddy was a drunk, and your older brothers was drunks, and your grand daddy was a drunk and your uncles was drunks, you ain’t got to many good memories in the first place. ‘Bout nothin.’
You remember fightin’ and hollerin’ and women bein’ hit and ‘bused an’ getting’ your own butt whipped for doin’ nothin’ or for standin’ up to the old man when he was drunk and hittin’ your mama. And they was always bluegrass music bein’ played in the background.
Big Dave: Yeah, and when you go to town people look down on you for how you talk and how you dress and you don’t have any money to buy anything. You get ashamed of what you are and your family and everything you got. when people look at you and spit, and then cuss you, callin’ you a dumb hillbilly, you’re not going to do anything to make them think that even more.
Doc: We was poor, and we worked with other poor whites, poor blacks… anyone what wasn’t getting’ paid good or treated right. With all that pain built up, we needed to get it out, and we played music and sang about it. We wasn’t thinkin’ what KIND of music it was. We just sang what we was feelin’ and about what we was goin’ through.
Some of it was songs we learnt off the radio what was singin’ about how we felt. Some was songs from other people what talked about how we felt. Some was church songs, about the Lord or askin’ the Lord to get us through a hard time.
Some was about how good it felt to be in love. Some was about bein’ cheated on or bein’ brokenhearted. It was all kinds of music. Some Kitty Wells, some Hank Williams, Webb Pierce, Bob Wills, Hank Snow and we listened to Muddy Waters, B.B. King, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Blake, John Lee Hoo
ker. I always liked John Lee Hooker real good.
Big Dave: I like John Lee Hooker real good, too.
Doc: So we played a bit of this, a bit of that. The whites and the blacks, they called themselves coloureds back then, all sang about the same things. Havin’ no money, mean bosses, mean women, cheatin’ women, whiskey, fallin’ in love. Tondy, all people feels them things.
We didn’t never put a name on what we played. Only when I come up north did they call it a name. It was just music what poor people knowed and sang.
Up here, in the 90’s they said what we played was blues. But not real blues, they said it had other names. We said it was “downhome” music. I still call it that.
Big Dave: They call some of it “country roots blues.” We play some of that, on acoustic. I heard that it is called Piedmont Blues, especially what Doc plays when he is playin’ alone at the house. That’s acoustic and they use the thumb for the bass line and the pointy finger for the chords or notes.
But most places if we are playin’ indoors, we use electric guitars and play old blues music that most people like. We play it because we know how and because we like it and they like it too. Blacks and whites.
Doc: I heard that one before, Big Dave. Piedmont.A man in DC called it that. That is how whites and blacks played guitar down home. It’s how you play when you just sit down and start playin.
I don’t play that way out in public too much ‘cause I think it might sound too much like a poor man. But I do that on my ‘lectric guitars what gots bass strings. Nobody notices it, but it gives me that bass line and the rhythm guitar line and a little lead. When the guitar is set right, that is the best way to play if you come from down where we do.
Big Dave: But Doc is the onliest one I know with the bass set up like he has. It sounds real good, and it gives me somethin’ to play lead over. Makes a full sound.![]()
Doc: When we play Gospel music, it’s the same way. Old downhome songs from when we was kids. We ain’t do nothing new. We do a lot from the Gales…
Big Dave: Their real name is The Sensational Nightingales. I only learned that a few years ago, Doc.
Doc: We do Gales’ songs. Spirituals. Sister Rosetta Tharpe – Marilyn sings her stuff a lot. Just stuff we grew up on. People like it the first time they hear it, and the old folks love it ‘cause ain’t nobody do it anymore, but us. They see us and still think, “Look at those dumb white hillbillies, but when we start playin’ and the Spirit starts movin’ they are clappin’ and singin’ and stompin’!
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Tondeleo: One thing that fascinated me when I first began working around real American rural musicians is that they did not all play bluegrass music. That is the stereotype that we hold of them: blowing on moonshine jugs, playing banjo’s, mandolins, jaw harps, violins and guitars.
When I met Doc and his friends several years ago, they described what they played as “downhome country blues roots.” It is a mix of country, blues and a fair bit of early rock and roll. I was curious as to how this fit in with the stereotype that we have of these people playing nothing but bluegrass.
Following is an interview I had with Doc and Big Dave a couple of years ago.![]()
Doc: Why don’t we play bluegrass? Well, we ain’t got no banjo’s or violins or mandolins first off, Tondy. We got guitars, I got a bass and we got amps. Bluegrass don’t like basses and amps and electric guitars. But we do.
My family was tryin’ to get away from all that when we was comin’ up. People called us hillbillies and my Grand dad said we needed to quit lookin’ and talkin’ like hillbillies or we ain’t never gonna have anything or amount to nothin.’
Big Dave: I don’t like bluegrass. Ain’t nobody told me to. It just reminds me of my old man. He listened to bluegrass all the time. If it wasn’t his friends comin’ by and playin’ it at the house, it was on the radio. It got bad memories for me. It gets on my nerves.
Tondeleo: Bluegrass gets on your nerves? I thought all rural Americans thrived on bluegrass!
Big Dave: Well, you thought wrong, little buddy.
Doc: We don’t play bluegrass. I never learned it. When I was comin’ up I learned from my grand dad and uncles, and their friends. Some was white and some was black. We all learned each other’s songs. But he steered us away from bluegrass.
I been to places where all they play is bluegrass, and I can be playin’ along, and some office boy what took “bluegrass lessons” will watch me a few minutes and then tell me that I am not playin’ “bluegrass chords.” Bluegrass chords? What’s that? I never learnt no bluegrass chords. I ain’t never took lessons.
I learned a lot of what I play from being in the drink houses. That was whites and blacks and mixed people. Just poor people what had problems and still wanted to sing. Mostly they ain’t know what they was playin’ as far as chords go. They just figured out what sounded good.
I ain’t know the names of all the chords. I know more than some people does, as for the names, but not all of them.I just play what I seen other people play an’ I have some what I figured out, and I slide ‘em up and down the neck to make different ones. That’s what mostly I seen comin’ up.
We’d take our guitars and go to the drink house and eat and talk and play music.
Tondeleo: Drink houses. What are drink houses?
Doc: A drink house is what they have a lot of down south, in North Carolina especially. If they ain't a bar in the area where you can go down for a drink or play some music, a person might just open their house up as a drink house.
You can’t just go and hang out in a bar all night if you ain’t drinkin’ and if you’re dirty from work, they ain’t like that too much neither. A drink house is where poor folks go to hang out and talk and drink and relax.
It's just a person’s house, and they might have they livin’ room or back room with a little bar in it, and a few beers in the ‘frigerator, and maybe a few bottles of liquor in the cabinet. You give 'em a couple of bucks and they give you a shot of whiskey or a beer. Maybe even a dollar might get you a sip, if all you got is a dollar. You can just hang out there and talk of play music or whatever you want, as long as you're not causing any trouble.
People in the neighborhood'll come by. Some will pull up in their car and come in just for a drink and leave. Others hang out there all day or evening.It’s a place to hang out, to talk, meet people and swap songs and learn a little by watchin’ what the other guy is doin’ and listenin’ to how he is playin’ and then do it yourself. You can learn a lot that way.
Sometimes they got a radio on, and you can learn some songs that way. That’s where some of the songs we play come from. That and old records we found here and there.
Big Dave: Yeah. I used to go to drink houses when I was in western North Carolina. It was just a cheap place to go and waste some time, and eat a sandwich and play music.
Some of 'ems open just some days or some evenin's and others is open day or night, seven days a week. Some's got a poker game in the back room or out on the picnic table in the back yard in the summer.
Some got a room fixed up where you can play music inside, with a little stage area over in the corner.
Some sell drugs, some don't. Some sell about anything a person could want, if they know you or you is family to a friend of theirs.
I never went for that. I just went for a sandwich, some music and some place to go before going back to my room to sleep.
Doc: You ain’t got to be a drunk or druggie to go to drink houses. I went for the food and music mostly and people what don’t have any money or good clothes got to be able to go someplace, too after work. Where else are we gonna go?
And that’s where we learnt to play and where we learnt the songs we sing. A bit of everything. Hank Williams, Webb Pierce and all them from my grand dad and uncles and they’s friends, and then John Lee Hooker, BB King, Albert King and a bunch of others from the drink houses.
Really, you got to know all of it so you can make a few dollars. We play some places where it is mostly white people and they want that country music what they call roots. So we play it. Some people think we only play country.
Some places we play is like we are the only white folks there. We play blues; John Lee Hooker, Artie White and BB King and all those kinds of songs there. They ain’t never hear us play country.
Sometimes we play where it is mixed and we do mixed music there. A bit of blues, a bit of country. Whatever they want. We play Gospel too, Tondy! We learnt that at church. But also at drink houses and from family. Most poor folks go to church some time in their life, because life is hard and they need help from the Lord. I need help from the Lord.
And me and Marilyn like singin’ and playin’ Gospel music. It reaches down deep inside you.
Tondeleo: I know, I’ve heard you do that, and I quite like it, I do…
Doc: We like that Gospel, Tondy. Not the new stuff. The old stuff. When a man is poor and can’t deal with his problems, he can turn to drinkin’ and drugs, or he can turn to the Lord. I been turnin’ to the Lord when I get down in the mully grubs, and sometimes I can just pick up my guitar and sing a while and I feel all better. We play Gospel around the house a lot. A whole lot.
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Tondeleo: As you know, Doc and Marilyn play outdoors frequently, and when it is warm weather, and they have bills to pay, they will be found outdoors on a regular basis, singing, playing and passing the hat. Sometimes their friend Thurman Goodlett dances for them, which helps get a crowd and increases the income. He is a fantastic dancer and is very professional. From their outdoors playing, they get asked to play at various events and venues.
Doc says that when they play outside it is "givin' away free samples," so people will let them play at other places. This is how they get most their gigs at BBQ's, family reunions, outdoor parties, and clubs and even festivals. People hear them, like their sound and find out how likeable both Doc and Marilyn are, and that they will play almost anywhere.![]()
One Sunday, back in March, they played indoors at Scott's II in Welcome Maryland, along with Joey Tippet and the California Ramblers. The California Ramblers are a popular bluegrass band who also donated their afternoon to raise funds for a local young mother who was diagnosed with leukemia a year ago. She was pregnant, and had some problems and they discovered that she had leukemia. Marilyn said that Katie, the young mother, lost her baby, and had a month of chemo treatments, and then "the Lord touched her body" and there is no sign of leukemia, but there are other problems.
Marilyn: Tondy, when Katie got the leukemia, all of us was prayin' and askin' the Lord to touch her body and heal her. She prayed too. She believes in healin' like we do. At the end of last March, they tested her and the leukemia was gone! No sign of it! They let her out of the hospital!
But the doctor what takes care of her after wards said leukemia doesn't just go away - she ain't never heard of the Lord healin' people - so she started Katie on chemo again. And every month they tested her for cancer, and guess what, Tondy? NO CANCER! Not even one cell!
But still her her doctor says she MIGHT have some cancer there and they just can't find it! So they keep her on that chemo and stereo-roids, anyway - but no sign of cancer cause the Lord healed her.
She got money problems cause she got two little boys she's tryin' to raise, an' she can't work a job, but still has to pay the rent and the light bill and gas for the car, and food.
So they had a fundraiser for her and asked us to help out. It was us and some bluegrass bands. We ain't exactly into bluegrass, so we din't know how it would be, and we didn't know if they would hate us because we play country roots blues and Doc uses a electric guitar, and bluegrass don't allow no electric guitars or drums, an' Doc also brought his box what he rigged up with a foot pedal to sound like drums. I like playin' indoors.
Well, it went GOOD! A lot of people came. The bluegrass bands was good, too. One was Joey Tippett and the California Ramblers! They was really good and they was nice to me and Uncle Doc. They let us use their mic, which was nice. They did a couple sets and we did a couple of sets, and another bluegrass band did, and also a rock band called Naked! They was all boys but I thank God they was not naked! They would've embarrassed themselves for sure, Tondy! But they sounded good. And kept their clothes on. That name they got for their band, Naked, Doc said is just boys bein' boys.
I heard that they raised about two thousand dollars to help her pay the rent. Churches are helping her out with food and such. It's really hard when a person ain't got no income and all their friends are poor, Tondy. But when everybody pitches in, and bakes cakes and pies for auctionin' off and brings in other things to sell, it helps. We all pull together. Even the bands played for free to help out. And Uncle Doc bought a fishin' rod and lures,and a camo fishin' stool to sit on, an' he don't even need 'em! He said he just wanted to help Katie pay her rent, and he had $30 on him. He has a soft heart, Tondy, but don't tell him I told you. But he's a softy inside!
Tondeleo: Marilyn gave me some pictures from this event that were emailed to her so here they are. She also got some video from it that I put it on my Youtube account for them.
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Tondeleo: Hello, This is Tondeleo...
Doc: Look, Tondy, I still got a burr in my saddle thinkin' about bein' throwed outta that Blue Grass Vestibule over the weekend. An' I wasn't drunk or fixin to be cause I cut all that mess out when my brother died an' told me to take care of Marilyn his daughter. He told me afore he died to take good care of her and stay sober an' I mostly done it. Over the weekend I got throwed out 'cause they said if I used 'lectricity when I played my guitar then it wasn't truly country roots bluegrass American music.
Now if I live in the count
ry, which I DO, an' I play music which I DO, an' I use a amp so you can hear my guitar over my singin' which I DO, an I am an American WHICH I AM, an the songs I sing is the ones my Daddy an my 'Grandaddy afore him sang, which they ARE, then how is that not real country roots American music?
Tondeleo: Ummm...
Doc: But that ain't all. They use 'lectricity theyself. They got CD's out an' they has radios an they is all 'lectric. They was SELLIN' CD's there, which you gotta have 'lectric or you cain't hear them.
But I ain't allowed to use 'lectric on my guitar which I have been usin' for more than 30 years an' I have played it in the mountains, in the valleys an' wherever I felt like it til this past weekend, when someone invited ME, I din't invite them, to come an' play.
Now here is what got me madder than a striped ape in a prison camp. They, the good little boys who WAS allowed to sing, was all singing through mikes, which IS 'lectric an' plug into AMPS which is 'lectric. I know a mike ain't really' lectric, but my guitar ain't really 'lectric neither. It ain't no more 'lectric than a mike is. A mike which I DON'T need cause I got a fair set of pipes on me. My guitar is what needs to be made loud an' Marilyn's harps gots to be made loud. But I don't need no mike for my voice.
They had some of them boys up there singin' into mikes an' blastin' the sound all over the place an' holdin' theys guitars in front of mkes an' that is ok, but I ain't allowed to play my guitar or use my stompbox cause it gots a mike in it too.
Tondeleo: Well, Doc, it IS their festival, and you were only invited at the last minute... and you don't even know if the bloke that invited you was authorised to... or did he just invite you to attend...
Doc: That guy what worked there who told me I couldn't play my guitar through my battery powered amp, he couldn't play nothin anyway an' he didn't have enough shoulders to hold up a guitar strap. I was gonna wup his hindparts an' rake the grass with it an' then wup him again for leavin' a greasy stain, but the way he was howlin' an' carryin' on cause I wanted to play my guitar was so pitiful I was too disgusted to wup him.
An like I said yesterday, Marilyn had commenced to cryin' an' said they would put me in jail if I got up on stage an' played anyway, which I was goin' to do. I had a Hank Williams set of songs an' some Webb Pierce and Merle Travis which is 'bout all I know, but I know 'em real good.
We rode more than two hours to be there an' then got throwed out cause don’t you know that country people don't have no 'lectricity. That's what city people thinks, an I was gonna show him some real country 'lectricity if Marilyn hadn't tugged on my arm so much an' ast me to leave an' if Oliver hadn't been there to help me get over it.
So here is where it stands. I AIN'T goin to no more Blue Grass vestibules or any country ones lessen they tells me up first I aint gonna be able to use my guitar, ceptin' my one what ain't electric an' if they try to stop me then, they is gonna have one situation on their hands, period. Bye.
Tondeleo: Bye, Doc. Have a good evening.
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