Feature Article - Winter 1996

Sammy Shelor

Two-time IBMA Banjo Player of the Year

By John Lawless

To describe a musician of Sammy Shelor's stature as a "great band player" sounds almost like a back- handed compliment. It gives the impression that you speak of a player who somehow lacks instrumental prowess while performing well in a band context. And yet, this two-time IBMA "Banjo Player of the Year" welcomes the description. States Sammy, "Oh yeah–most definitely! I take it as a compliment because that's what I set out to do. There's a lot of great, hot pickers out there, but if what you play doesn't fit into the context of a vocal number, it will never sell. Vocals are what makes a band and my whole theory of my job is to make that vocalist sound good."

It looks like Sammy is doing that job pretty well. Since he joined the Lonesome River Band (LRB) in 1990, they have been on a steady climb up the professional ladder, enjoying both critical and popular success and growing from a respected regional act to one of the top international draws on the bluegrass circuit. All three projects he has recorded with LRB have gone to number 1 on the Bluegrass Unlimited album charts and the first, Carrying The Tradition (Rebel 1690), won Album of the Year at the IBMA in 1993.

Though Sammy would flinch from accepting full credit for their popularity, his powerful yet understated banjo style is surely an important part of the mix-- and a sound increasingly imitated.

Sammy first came to the banjo at age four when his grandfather Howell fashioned him a banjo from an old pressure cooker lid. His other grandfather Shelor then promised to get the young boy a real banjo if he learned just two songs. In no time, that challenge met, Sammy had a banjo of his own and he began to frequent the fiddle conventions and contests near his home in southwestern Virginia. With grandfather Howell teaching him tunes and grandfather Shelor driving him to contests, Sammy had the support of a family devoted to bluegrass music.

By the age of 10, Sammy was playing in a band environment, usually with older musicians eager to help the young banjo picker along. Throughout his teen years he continued to study the playing of such pickers as Ben Eldridge, Allen Shelton, and of course, Earl Scruggs. But while many young banjo players at the time were experimenting with the melodic and chromatic styles that were then in vogue, Sammy never caught the bug.

 

"From the mid-70s to the early 80s I was into power banjo--J. D. Crowe and Terry Baucom. I never got into the melodic stuff at all. I learned The 'Eighth Of January' melodic because my granddad liked the tune and that's about the only one I know. I play the worst version of 'Blackberry Blossom' that ever existed. I was always playing with vocalists and never really wanted to get into that kind of thing."

Another very large influence on Sammy during this stage of his learning was Gene Parker, a player unknown by a lot of banjo pickers even today. One of the founding members of the Lost And Found, Gene was a highly visible picker in the area where Sammy grew up and he had developed a very unique style that attracted Sammy's attention from the start.

"Gene is probably the most inventive of the Scruggs-style players that has ever lived. He would incorporate steel licks, James Burton guitar licks, and these really creative pull-offs and bends into his playing. I never really tried to learn his stuff note-for-note, but his phrasing really influenced how I play back-up."

"He created a whole new banjo sound which you can really hear on two Lost And Found records from the early 80s-- Lost Highway and The Deal. When I heard those I thought, 'that is how it should be played!' Unfortunately, the best recorded example of Gene's playing is now out of print. If you can find it, his banjo album Struttin' To Ferrum is the one to get."

At the age of 19, Sammy took his first full-time job with a professional bluegrass band, travelling all over the US with Richmond, Virginia-based, The Heights Of Grass. This band eventually evolved into the Virginia Squires where Sammy performed with his boyhood friends-- and now well-known bluegrass artists-- Rickie and Ronnie Simpkins. Time with the Squires gave Sammy his first taste—or perhaps distaste—for performing in an acoustic/electric setting as they regularly used instrument pick-ups and stage amplifiers.

"I don't like pick-ups. There are some good ones out there, but I have yet to hear one that makes a banjo sound like a banjo. It's really hard to find a contact pick-up that gives you the string sound or the bell sound of the tone ring. You lose the dynamics and you can't get the subtle changes in tone that you can create acoustically."

It would be wrong, however, to believe that Sammy harbors a bias against "modern sound reinforcement." LRB is currently investigating several avenues that might help them get a clear acoustic sound in a large hall environment including in-ear monitoring systems and instrument-mounted microphones. "I'm convinced that you can get the acoustic sound at higher volume. Just listen to Alison's live show--it's just a matter of finding the right equipment."

His two-year tenure with The Heights Of Grass in the early 80s taught Sammy the value and importance of showmanship. This was essentially a show band, relying on personality, humor, and a clever stage presentation for their appeal.

When the Virginia Squires were born in 1983, the "entertainer format" continued, but with a greater focus on music that was more technically challenging. However, they found that going too far outside what the average bluegrass listener is expecting to hear, is a sure band killer. It might be fun to play, but that is no guarantee it will be fun to listen to. The band folded after six years.

This experience was fresh in his mind when he first hooked up with The Lonesome River Band in September of 1990. Dan Tyminski and Tim Austin had been playing together for several years when both Sammy and Ronnie Bowman came into the group. With new members and the beginnings of a new sound starting to emerge, it was clear that they needed to cut a record.

"We had all tried performing newer-type material so we thought, 'Let's cut a traditional record and see what happens. Even with older tunes and the Stanley, Monroe, and Flatt & Scruggs influence, there was enough of our young influences and personalities in the mix that it sort of found a niche that bridged the traditional and the contemporary. The young people liked it and the older people liked it, too. It wasn't something we really set out to do, it sort of just happened, and it is a sound that we've stuck with ever since."

"We want to reach everyone who listens to bluegrass and we want them to enjoy it but we also want people who haven't really listened to bluegrass to hear it and enjoy it too. Hopefully, they will all learn to appreciate some of the older stuff in the process. Our main objective is to create new fans for the music."

If you have heard Sammy's recordings with LRB, you surely will have noticed the band's powerful, aggressive, and rhythmically-polished approach. Some have described it as an "in your face" attitude towards the music and performing. It is every bit as evident in person as in the studio. Even familiar old tunes like "Katy Daly" and "Bringing In The Georgia Mail" on the latest CD (One Step Forward–Sugar Hill 3848) have a freshness that is quite modern in sound—and distinctively Lonesome River Band.

"We're not a laid-back band. We're an ahead-of-the-beat, push-type band. Certain songs have this energy level about them that you want to play on the front edge of the beat. The bass and the mandolin are still playing the top side of the beat but it's the guitar and banjo's job to push against that. If everybody is doing that and giving that push, it just creates excitement."

Front edge of the beat? Top of the beat? If these terms and concepts are new to you, or seem hard to understand, you are not alone. Sammy is talking about his preference for playing in perfect time, but striking each note of the banjo roll ever so slightly prior to the time it would be expected.

 

"It's hard to explain—it's really a 'feel' thing. It's a matter of how you are interpreting the beat. When you play to a click track with the kick and snare playing the up and down of the beat, what I'm doing is playing just ahead of that downbeat and just ahead of that upbeat. So you're almost in between the beats. The bass and the mandolin are hitting the down and up dead on, creating the timing. The banjo and rhythm guitar are playing around that timing to give it that push and energy."

"It's not so much speeding up, but staying ahead of the beat. A lot of people mistake it for speeding up and will let themselves be pulled into that and then end up rushing every song. The key to it is to find that groove, play ahead of it, but not let yourself be led away from it."

"I think this is part of the reason that we record the way we do, to a click track. You create this stress from almost speeding up, but the click track will never let you do that. We get our share of ridicule about using a click, but it works for us. Even though we don't record live with everyone playing at once, we create a live feel. It's because of being able to feel around that beat."

Watching the Lonesome River Band at work in the studio gives a clue to the secret of their repeated recording successes. You won't find a bunch of guys who walk in and lay down a tune that has been carefully practiced and polished to perfection. Often, they literally learn the song in the studio working from chord charts and reading the words from a hastily scrawled scrap of paper.

Each instrument and vocal is recorded separately at separate times. Often, Sammy lays down his banjo track to a tune with nothing to go on but a click track with bass, guitar, and a "dummy" vocal. The rest of the instruments and vocals are layered in one at a time. He has recorded both ways and has a preference. "I prefer to do it layered because I can be more creative. I have more time to do exactly what fits the song."

Often Sammy sits down in the studio without any clear conception of what he will play on a new tune. If you were to hear him run through a half dozen takes you might be surprised to hear him play the solo completely differently, with a different lead-out lick, and a totally different approach to his back-up each time.

"It's going to be different a bunch of times until I hit exactly where I want to go with it. I'm looking for that special thing that will fit that song. Once I find that, I'll sit and listen to it a few times, get it in my head, and then go back in and cut another one. If I try something and it doesn't work, I'm going to change it up. But once I know where I'm going with it, I can generally get it the first or second time through."

One Step Forward also introduces the latest incarnation of the Lonesome River Band, which has experienced its share of personnel changes over the years.

Founding member Tim Austin left to focus his energy on his new label, Doobie Shea Records. Kenny Smith has stepped in on guitar and vocals and Don Rigsby now holds down the mandolin and tenor vocal spot. Kenny now sings most of the baritone parts that once fell to Sammy and can add a guitar solo when needed as well.

"Not having to sing really takes a lot of pressure off of me. I enjoy just playing and I'm not a very good singer to begin with but I don't think that I play any differently than if I was singing. I'm primarily into what the vocalist is doing and when he's singing, all I'm doing is laying a pad there. All you need is a good solid roll -- mostly the 1st, 5th, and 3rd strings. I just play a straight-ahead forward roll when the singing is going on and when there's a hole, I'm going to have a lick there for it."
"We try to perform our material pretty much like we recorded it, so most of the fill licks that I do on stage will be what's on the CD or something similar to it. I may try to improve them or change them up a little if I can, but they will be close. Since we use fiddle and Dobro on the records, I also try to take some of the ideas that they played and incorporate them into the banjo back-up."

This past August, the Lonesome River Band found an unexpected thrill waiting for them during a trip to Nashville. The band was in town for their third TV performance on The Nashville Network's, Prime Time Country. Unknown to Sammy and the guys, Vince Gill was also scheduled as a guest for that night's program and they ran into each other in the dressing room. They had met previously during Sammy's brief tenure as the lead guitarist for the country act Matthews, Wright, and King in 1993, and they took this opportunity to get reacquainted.

"It turned out that he had listened to our records and knew our music. Right before we did our last song on Prime Time Country, Vince told us that he was playing the Opry that night and that he didn't have his band because they were off that weekend. He asked if we would like to come over and play and we ended up doing five songs with him on the radio."

"We did 'High Lonesome Sound,' which he had out with Alison Krauss and Union Station, and 'Rose Of Old Kentucky,' which he sent out to Mr. Monroe. Then he did 'Sitting On Top Of The World' with us the way we do it because he knew the arrangement. Ronnie sang the first verse, Don sang the second, and he sang the third. He played guitar and he seemed to know our arrangement well. It was our second time on the Opry and it was a real honor for us to be there again —but even more so to get to do it with Vince."

Like many players who learned to play before the advent of the video age, Sammy recognizes the value of the many instructional aids that exist today. Still, he wonders whether today's students of the banjo are learning to capture the feeling and the soul of the music when they rely too much on prepared courses and books.

"There's a lot of ways of looking at that. Some people think that the feeling is just born into you and you learn the playing techniques to express it. That's kind of how I look at it, because I know that what makes my playing different from anybody else's—the phrasing and the feeling I put into it—is what comes from the heart."
"Things have changed a lot since I learned to play. The videos available now make it much easier. I was teaching for awhile around home when I first moved back to Meadows Of Dan, Virginia and I had about three students. When I told them that they needed to get Pete Wernick's video series, none of them came back! That was fine with me because I knew they could probably learn more with the video."

Using videos is Sammy's recommendation to pickers trying to get started on the banjo. Being able to watch the same thing every day until it sinks in is an advantage that you just can't get with a weekly lesson. Having the printed music and the video presentation together in front of you strikes him as the ideal format for a beginner.

"I never learned to read tab, but I know a lot of people learn from it. I know I've sold a lot of books a lot more than I ever thought I would—to people who do read tab and get a lot from it. The tab approach is great, as long as you know what you're listening for. You can find all the notes on the page, but you still have to find the feel."

Even now, at what you might call the top of his game, Sammy sees himself as still studying the banjo, reaching for things that have eluded him up to this point. "I guess I can play about 75% of what I hear and it has always been my goal to be able to play 100%. I hope to attain that someday because I hear some pretty neat stuff that I still haven't pulled off on the instrument."

This winter, Sammy goes into the studio to record his first solo project for Sugar Hill Records, with a planned Spring 1997 release. Though several vocal numbers will be featured, Sammy promises that this will be a banjo album first and foremost. Finally . . . the great "band player" gets his chance to shine as a soloist!