It has, therefore, not always easy being a bluegrass musician or listener. The very term “bluegrass” carries negative connotations for many people. Be it images of tobacco chewing toothless hillbillies with moonshine jugs, Confederate flags, or an incorrectly perceived lack of sophistication in the music, “bluegrass” often conjures up ideas of uneducated backwardness.
Despite this, the joy of the music never left and I always had the support of my family for my musical endeavours. It was, however, attending my first bluegrass camp that made this music an indispensable part of my life.
I have always known bluegrass music to be one of the most open and inviting kinds of music to play and to listen to. When I learned there was a group of people who had not been welcomed, it went against everything I know bluegrass music to be. I had never heard these voices before. Bluegrass Pride provided the education that I needed to see the music I love wasn’t all fiddle tunes and G runs. We needed to do better. We were going to do better and I was going to be a part of it.
I remember stopping at a fast food joint in Ohio years ago while driving to a festival, and when we told the gal behind the counter that we played bluegrass, her response was, “Oh, you mean that whiny old stuff?” I found myself torn between wanting to respond, “Hey, it’s not just that whiny old stuff”—which is, of course, true—and wanting to say, “Hey, what’s wrong with that whiny old stuff? It’s great!” Which is also true.
One of the great traditions of gay musicians is that of “queering” songs – rewriting (or in some cases not rewriting) songs to speak to queer love. In its simplest form, it’s just a matter of maintaining the original pronouns of a song while switching the gender of the performer. You’ve probably heard your fair share of queered songs in your own jam circles, whether or not it was an intentional choice on the part of the singer.