First published in  Lonely Goat Print Magazine Volume II - #9

Festival Time: Blueground Undergrass
by J.D. Edwards (October, 1999)

The new darlings of the festival circuit, Blueground Undergrass, returned briefly to the nightclub trenches to sharpen their sound before the autumn onslaught of hour-long sets and musical cross-pollinations/ proving grounds. This relatively new band is still creating a name for themselves as evidenced by the thin Friday turnout at the Cat's Cradle in Carrboro, but nevertheless they declared the club temporary festival grounds and led a backwoods revival smack in the heart of the "art ghetto" district.

The band's ringleader, Reverend Jeff Mosier, sprouted his subversive bluegrass roots under the enormous shade of Col. Bruce Hampton's family tree. He tipped his hat to his former boss acknowledging him as the father of "no-grass" music. Along the way, Mosier has been enlisted by Vermont's own "asphalt-grass" progenitors, Phish, to convey his encyclopedic knowledge of bluegrass tradition. And while he has spoken bluntly about the experience: "Those are some real nice guys, but they didn't catch on too well," he maintains his sense of humor as heard from his side-splitting John Fishman impersonation during their April Ziggy's performance.

Currently Mosier has assembled a unique congregation that shirks tradition, although with a fitting nod in its direction every now and then. The band unites four integral, normally disparate elements into one complimentary whole. The syrupy string princess of Nashville, the pedal steel. The howl of the hillbilly hoe-down, the fiddle. The growl of Southern rock, the Les Paul electric guitar. And the plucky ring of high lonesome bluegrass, the banjo. All grapple for solo space over a punchy bass and drum combination.

This top-heavy line-up specialized in style-hopping from guitar-bass-drum rock and jazz to banjo-fiddle acoustics to the dreamy country touches of Mark Van Allen's pedal steel, often within the same song. In the first set, they passed solos down the line in a routine, almost predictable fashion, but later in the set they mixed it up with a reworking of "Train 9" that weaved in and out of "Orange Blossom Special" for fifteen minutes!
Reflecting the diversity of the personnel, their set list centered around other radical reworkings of classics. "Nine Pound Hammer," Ralph Stanley's gospel song "Oh Death," and Bill Monroe's "Blue and Lonesome Too" and "Wheel Hoss" all survived the Undergrass treatment. The latter prompted the reverend to quip: "we had to wait until Bill died to debut this arrangement." They also favored upbeat renditions of rock classics like "The Times They Are A-Changin," "Friend of the Devil" and even the quirky nostalgia of John Denver's AM staple "Country Roads." And well-crafted originals such as "Mr. Lunchbox" and "Archeology" captured them at their peppiest and poppiest.

Some songs also catered to the individual needs of the soloists. Second set fiddle tunes, "Cripple Creek" and "Cherokee Shuffle," showcased bow baron Edward Hunter's ability, and Mark Van Allen's gorgeous steel gem "Wichita" afforded him (and us) the same indulgence. Guitarist Johnny Mosier peeled off some crisp acoustic flatpicking on several songs giving the band a softer, more traditional feel, but the McCoury-style, single-mike stand-around that marked the Ziggy's performance was missing, which the soundman claims hasn't been repeated since.

And following reminders about October appearances at Harvest Festival in Atlanta and MagnoliaFest in Florida, the festival spirit-guide Peter Rowan's "Midnight Moonlight" tied it all together towards the end. Listeners were catapulted directly into their moon-soaked, outdoor mindsets for those fabulous fifteen minutes as BGUG presented a strong case for anyone considering those trip-worthy festivals as to what possibilities might be consecrated. And then imagine Vassar Clements joining in on the chorus...