|
Soul in the ‘Grass
Nashville singer John Cowan talks Revival
by Paige M. Travis
John Cowan isn’t cynical, but he can’t help siding with the movie incarnation of Lester Bangs, who declares the death of rock ‘n’ roll in the film Almost Famous. “They will ruin rock and roll,” he predicts of record companies, “and strangle everything we love about it.”
If he were alive today, the mouthy rock critic for Creem magazine likely would share Cowan’s frustration with the limitations faced by musicians and listeners due to the increasing consolidation of record companies and radio stations. Back when Cowan was a teenager—and during his 15 years with New Grass Revival—the sky seemed the limit. The ’60s and ’70s were “a renaissance for music,” he says.
“People took the genre of rock ’n’ roll and just ran with it,” he reflects. “Rock ’n’ roll just grew and splintered and became different things. No holds barred. Artistry was encouraged.”
As a teenager in the ’60s, Cowan was inspired by the British invasion, and when he was a garage band bassist in high school and college, Motown struck a chord. “I was right at the perfect age,” he says, to absorb the likes of Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, Janis Joplin, Sam Cook—artists whose originality inspired the young singer. “It was such an amazing time in our culture. I got hit at the perfect time.”
As his voice absorbed the sounds of soul, he was picking up the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. So it must have seemed a strange career move when he joined Sam Bush’s New Grass Revival in 1974.
According to Jeff Wall of Twangzine.net, New Grass Revival (NGR) was one of the original jam bands. Originated in 1972, its members were considered rebellious heroes by young fans and irreverent punks by the bluegrass establishment. Wall writes, “Bluegrass bands at the time all had short hair, all dressed identically, and were much more conservative. Not the New Grass Revival. They all had long hair, wore whatever they wanted to wear, and played whatever they wanted to play, whether it be a bluegrass version of Jerry Lee Lewis’ ‘Great Balls of Fire,’...or fiddle legend Vassar Clements’ ‘Lonesome Fiddle Blues.’”
Fans of genre-stretching bands like Phish, Leftover Salmon, Widespread Panic and other jazzy, grassy, rock bands who get the “jam” label have New Grass Revival to thank for breaking some barriers. Cowan admits that he’s still somewhat amazed at how influential the band—which also featured Butch Robins, Courtney Johnson and later Pat Flynn and Bela Fleck—has turned out to be.
“When you do something totally different and new, the rewards are rarely immediate,” he muses. “It’s great for us to watch these different incarnations of what I perceive as sons and daughters.”
But it’s taken some years of hindsight for him to accept NGR as something that got into his system. After NGR made its final record in 1989, Cowan plugged in and rocked out with the Sky Kings with Rusty Young of Poco and Bill Lloyd. Their 1997 record, From Out of the Blue Sky, was finally released in 2000.
Over the past few years, Cowan’s solo career has led him back to the arrangements that made New Grass Revival such a breath of fresh air. After a record of R&B hits called Soul’d Out, Cowan released an eponymous CD that blended bluegrass, country and rock. Those old, familiar string instruments had crept back into his consciousness. Those years in NGR had sunk in deeper than he’d thought.
“It had much more impact that I gave it credit for,” Cowan says. “When I came back to this sound, I felt so comfortable with it. It felt like coming home.”
Nashville, Cowan’s home for 24 years, presents opportunities for musicians to meet, collaborate and inspire each other. Cowan has lent his distinctive voice to more than a few of his friends’ records, and he didn’t hesitate to recruit them for his self-titled disc.
The follow-up, 2002’s Always Take Me Back, materialized under the able watch of Los Angeles producer Wendy Waldman, who had produced NGR’s final record, Friday Night in America. The two hadn’t seen each other for several years when they reconnected by mail and discussed working together again.
Fresh off his annual gig at Telluride, Cowan is touring with a new band: Noam Pikelny of Leftover Salmon on banjo; Wayne Benson of IIIrd Tyme Out on mandolin; his pal from Georgia Jeff Autry on guitar; and Luke Bulla on fiddle and vocals.
Cowan, who turns 51 in August, is philosophical about getting older in an industry that’s filled with pals and colleagues, as well as some of those young upstarts who might remind him of himself 30 years ago.
“I’m living a life of acceptance. I look to these people for inspiration,” he says. “I think it comes with the territory. That’s what getting older is supposed to be about.”
July 1, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 27
© 2004 Metro Pulse
|
| 
