Muleskinner, the bluegrass supergroup featuring Clarence White and David Grisman, is not music I’m ever gonna wanna listen to.It might be different for you if lightning-fast mandolin yee-hah is your thang.When I hear the stuff I feel like I’m being asked to squeal like a pig, from a voice behind me.But the music does afford me one last chance to say a few things about Clarence White, who died about seven months after tonight’s clip was taped.His death wasn’t a needle-in-the-arm rock ‘n roll suicide passing.He strikes me as having been far too much of a southern gentleman for that sort of thing.But it was a terrible death nevertheless. On a summer night in 1973, out in Palmdale, which is a stop along the Sierra Highway on the way out to the Mojave, White was struck by a drunk driver while he and his brother were loading equipment into a car after an impromptu Kentucky Colonels reunion gig.Poor guy was only 29, but he’d already lived such a rich life. He was a child prodigy, a founding member of the Kentucky Colonels, a member of Nashville West, and a session player for tons of Country and pop music, including sessions for the Monkees and for the Byrds as early as Younger than Yesterday.Roger McGuinn finally invited him to become a full-time member of the reconstituted Byrds in the latter half of 1968. Chris Hillman and Gram Parsons asked White to join the Burrito Brothers but he said in interviews that he’d always wanted to be in the Byrds. And it’s easy see/hear why. His guitar chemistry with McGuinn was incredible.
And this is really what I wanted to say about Clarence White. I am not at all a lover of country music, even when it’s fused with rock ‘n roll.On the one hand, then, I have a certain degree of ambivalence about the Byrds in the Clarence White era.If it’d been up to me, the Byrds never would have made Sweetheart of the Rodeo and would have continued making pop records, perhaps with some country fried textures here and there.But on the other hand, Clarence White is a once-in-a-lifetime talent, though it’s not his technical virtuosity that wins me over.You don’t really notice his technical prowess because he never noodles or wanks. His playing is restrained. He understands the importance of being an accompanist. This is the best kind of virtuosity, at least in my book.What makes White so distinct is the sound and tone he coaxes from his guitar.It’s absolutely perfect and says what a player can’t otherwise say in a million pyrotechnic solos.I hear that Tellie twang of his, razor sharp and sugar sweet (flies like a butterfly, stings like a bee?), and all my reservations dissolve.And when that sound and that tone are layered over the chiming beauty of McGuinn’s 12-string, forget it, I’m hooked. Slap a 10 gallon Stetson on me and dress me up in leather chaps… White was taken away from us far too soon, but he left behind so much bliss, and he'll always have a place in my heart...
Muleskinner, the bluegrass supergroup featuring Clarence White and David Grisman, is not music I’m ever gonna wanna listen to. It might be different for you if lightning-fast mandolin yee-hah is your thang. When I hear the stuff I feel like I’m being asked to squeal like a pig, from a voice behind me. But the music does afford me one last chance to say a few things about Clarence White, who died about seven months after tonight’s clip was taped. His death wasn’t a needle-in-the-arm rock ‘n roll suicide passing. He strikes me as having been far too much of a southern gentleman for that sort of thing. But it was a terrible death nevertheless. On a summer night in 1973, out in Palmdale, which is a stop along the Sierra Highway on the way out to the Mojave, White was struck by a drunk driver while he and his brother were loading equipment into a car after an impromptu Kentucky Colonels reunion gig. Poor guy was only 29, but he’d already lived such a rich life. He was a child prodigy, a founding member of the Kentucky Colonels, a member of Nashville West, and a session player for tons of Country and pop music, including sessions for the Monkees and for the Byrds as early as Younger than Yesterday. Roger McGuinn finally invited him to become a full-time member of the reconstituted Byrds in the latter half of 1968. Chris Hillman and Gram Parsons asked White to join the Burrito Brothers but he said in interviews that he’d always wanted to be in the Byrds. And it’s easy see/hear why. His guitar chemistry with McGuinn was incredible.
And this is really what I wanted to say about Clarence White. I am not at all a lover of country music, even when it’s fused with rock ‘n roll. On the one hand, then, I have a certain degree of ambivalence about the Byrds in the Clarence White era. If it’d been up to me, the Byrds never would have made Sweetheart of the Rodeo and would have continued making pop records, perhaps with some country fried textures here and there. But on the other hand, Clarence White is a once-in-a-lifetime talent, though it’s not his technical virtuosity that wins me over. You don’t really notice his technical prowess because he never noodles or wanks. His playing is restrained. He understands the importance of being an accompanist. This is the best kind of virtuosity, at least in my book. What makes White so distinct is the sound and tone he coaxes from his guitar. It’s absolutely perfect and says what a player can’t otherwise say in a million pyrotechnic solos. I hear that Tellie twang of his, razor sharp and sugar sweet (flies like a butterfly, stings like a bee?), and all my reservations dissolve. And when that sound and that tone are layered over the chiming beauty of McGuinn’s 12-string, forget it, I’m hooked. Slap a 10 gallon Stetson on me and dress me up in leather chaps… White was taken away from us far too soon, but he left behind so much bliss, and he'll always have a place in my heart...
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