(string music) - [David] We're at Perelandra Concert Hall in Asheville, North Carolina.

Perelandra is the creation of instrument maker and musician Jerry Read Smith, whose hammered dulcimers and other stringed instruments have earned him a national reputation.

We're here to visit with my longtime friend John McCutcheon, folk song collector and songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and a wonderful performer with more than 40 albums to his credit.

(lively string music) Yeah!

(lively string music) Ragtime Annie!

- That's it.

- Played that a thousand times over the years, haven't we?

- 1,001 now.

- (chuckles) I think, John, we met in 1973 at the Asheville Mountain Song and Dance Festival.

- We did, and that, I believe, was my first time there.

You had been there prior to... - I had come in '69, yeah.

- Yeah.

- What turned you on in the first place to come down here?

- Well, when I was a kid, I got a guitar for my 14th birthday, (this is going somewhere), - Yeah.

and the only book with guitar chords in our local public library was this book called "Woody Guthrie Folk Songs".

I had no idea who Woody Guthrie was, but here was 50 songs and the page of chord grids, and probably the first 20 songs I learned were Woody Guthrie songs, which sort of steered me toward a much roots-ier side of the folk music revival.

- Yeah.

While I was- - But political too.

- It was that and songs that told historical stories like no other source.

- Yeah.

- There were kids' songs, there were love songs, there were funny songs, there were topical songs, it was just, it was everything laid out there.

So, while a lot of my friends were learning Kingston Trio songs, I had no idea groups like that even existed, because Woody was just so raw, and purpose-driven... - How did that send you to Asheville though?

- When I was in college, I started to learn how to play the banjo.

- Yeah.

- Which was a fool's errand in Minnesota where I was going to college, but luckily my college gave me a really long leash, and when I went to them I said, "I wanna do an independent study, hitchhiking through the Southern Appalachians, and meeting banjo players."

They said, "Well, who are you gonna meet?"

And I produced these albums from the college library, Roscoe Holcomb, and Mountain Music of East Kentucky, and the young Doc Watson, and "Old-time Music at Clarence Ashley's".

And these things came with books, with extensive notes and maps.

- Yeah.

- And I thought- - Maps to their houses, I remember that.

- Yes, yes, and I thought, "These people are still alive."

I'd been fed that whole ruse of "Oh, this music is dying out, all these people have gone."

And it was anything but the truth.

And so I came down in 1972, and I did just that, I hitchhiked around and met people, and you know what it's like.

You meet one person, and from that person, you meet five people.

- It was amazing, the variety of stuff you found, huh?

- Oh, it was... and there was no "No" in my vocabulary.

I was 20 years old, I was like, "Yeah, why not?

Sure, I'm in the learning mode, and let's go to a square dance at Carcassone, Kentucky tonight, there's a good banjo player who goes there."

And then you got introduced to community country dancing, people who were there just to be with their neighbors, and hold one another in their arms and not get in trouble for a couple of hours.

(both chuckle) And it was all, and, "Oh, you wanna go to a shape-note singing?"

"Yessiree, how about it?

Let's go to an old regular Baptist church and hear them sing their music."

And, "Oh, I gotta go play on a picket line tonight."

Or, "There's gonna be a pie supper, so we can raise money for our community health clinic."

And music was instrumental, rather than ornamental, to community life, and I thought I came down to learn how to play the banjo, and I quickly decided that that was what was more interesting, and what wove all those things together, the different instruments, the different approaches to music, whether it be religious, or topical, or old ballads, or newly composed songs, it was all of one piece.

- The banjo was like a magic key, wasn't it?

- It was- - It was for me.

- Whoa, yeah, standing on the side of the road in eastern Kentucky with a banjo case and your thumb out- - Stay there for 30 seconds.

- 30 seconds, and you'd get in there, and the fellow would say, "You play that thing?"

And I learned to say, "Oh, I play at it."

And we'd be driving along, I'd take my [banjo] and he'd say, "Oh, you play that old..." whatever they would call it-— frailing, knockdown, claw hammer, old time-—like Uncle So-and-So, and I said, "Oh, where does Uncle So-and-So live?"

And I guess at the prospect of hearing some free music, more often than not, the pickup truck would go up some little gravel road and... .

- Pete Seeger is one of the people that's been very influential to you.

- Oh, I think he's been influential to a whole generation of people.

I remember the first time I ever heard a Pete Seeger recording, it was a live concert recording, as many of his recordings were, and I'd never been to a concert.

- How old were you?

- 13.

- Oh, wow.

- In a concert, the performer surrenders to the audience and vice versa, and then you can create something amazing for maybe a couple of hours, you can have this little community, and nobody did that better than Pete.

- Yeah.

The heroes that we have in our culture, the Jackie Robinsons, the Rosa Parks, the Nelson Mandelas, the Martin Luther Kings, are famous not because they were great orators, but because they were courageous, and I think that was something that really moved me about Pete and his music.

- You know so many traditional songs, but you also have been writing from the very beginning, right?

- Oh, I wrote from the time I got my guitar, I wrote really terrible songs.

(both laughing) (facetiously)- Oh, sing one.

- Oh, listen, my best friend from back then claims he has a cassette of all those songs, and if we ever have a falling out, they're up on YouTube.

(David laughs) The thing that really changed my song writing was becoming so thoroughly marinaded in traditional music.

- Realizing how so good those songs were.

- Oh, here were songs that were worn smooth and beautiful on a thousand tongues before mine, and then I would try to play one of my measly little things, but I knew there were people who were doing this.

My very first songwriting hero was Jean Ritchie.

- Mm-hmm, she's great.

- And she's a songwriter that most people probably don't know writes songs, because they can't tell the difference between a traditional song and "Cool of the Day."

And so I started paying attention to that in the same way I was paying attention to how people played the banjo, because we were not dealing with professional teachers, we had to learn how to listen.

- Right, they couldn't slow it down or break it down.

- No, it was just playing, and you had to figure out, "Well, how do I learn how to do this?"

And so whether it be how to become a better singer, or especially how to become a better songwriter, I would look at these old songs and kind of deconstruct them, and try to figure how they did what they did.

And then of course, with a song like "Who'll Rock the Cradle?"

I just landed on a weird banjo tuning that Ralph Ford from down near Newport, Tennessee, he and I would play for the square dances at the Sunset Gap Community Center, and he had this killer version of "Cumberland Gap" that was just heart-stopping to me, and part of it, as you know, was just finding the right tuning.

- Was it the F tuning?

- What is it?

It's F-C-F-C-D. - Beautiful tuning.

- It is a beautiful tuning.

So I was just messing around with it one day, and then one night, driving home all night, after a gig when I'd just been on the road, and I just decided on one hand to keep myself alive to write a song, and secondly, just open your heart, which is the best kind of song writing that there is.

(banjo music) ♪ There's a star I the east in the still of the night ♪ ♪ 200 miles on this old road before the morning light ♪ ♪ There's a hole in this heart of mine ♪ ♪ And I don't know what to do ♪ But I swear that I would drive all night ♪ ♪ Just to wake up next to you ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone, my darling ♪ ♪ Who's gonna rub your tired feet?

Who'll sing the song ♪ ♪ Tell me, who's gonna rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ (banjo music) ♪ There's a point on the horizon I never seem to find ♪ ♪ Vision in my rear view mirror I just can't leave behind ♪ ♪ Ain't no way to change it ♪ No word that I might say ♪ I try to hide it deep inside ♪ It just won't go away ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone, my darling ♪ ♪ Who's gonna rub your tired feet?

Who'll sing the song ♪ ♪ Tell me, who's gonna rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ (banjo music) ♪ Oh, the wind blows through this valley ♪ ♪ It trembles in the trees ♪ It can thrill you with its gentleness ♪ ♪ Or bring you to your knees ♪ Love is like a wellspring ♪ That feeds the hungry heart ♪ It can satisfy your longing ♪ Or can tear you clean apart ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone, my darling ♪ ♪ Who's gonna rub your tired feet?

Who'll sing the song ♪ ♪ Tell me, who's gonna rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ ♪ Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone ♪ (banjo music) - I've noticed in the last few years that your song writing has gotten much more oriented towards storytelling, but it's actually not coming from you, that you usually have a character that you're talking about.

- Well, it's something that I found really powerful about traditional music, especially when it was a first person narrative.

You know, "My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool."

"I am SuAnne Big Crow, I am 14 years old."

It brings a listener into a story in a way that's really compelling, and you have this three-minute window where you're creating a whole new world, and you wanna introduce a character and a bit of a story to an audience member.

And that's the biggest thing that's happened in the last dozen or two years, when I realized the first two things I have to do is "What's the story", and "Who's telling this story", and it takes away the argument then.

- What do you mean?

- Someone could say, "Well, I don't agree with your idea."

And I'm just telling a story, I'm not telling you what you should think.

There's... at the end of "Christmas In the Trenches", or at the end of "SuAnne Big Crow", it's like you can make a decision or not about what you think about this, but I've told you a pretty good story, haven't I?

(chuckles) - (chuckles) Good.

- And that's the kind of thing, it's the connective tissue as my wife, Carmen Agra Deedy, often says, stories are the connective tissue between human beings, and we crave that.

And you see that in elementary schools where you go in and you tell a story and the kids are just like, "And it's not on a screen?

And it's not..." It's the most humanly interactive moment, and it works for me as a listener, and I try to make it work as a songwriter.

(guitar music) ♪ I am an immigrant ♪ I am a stranger in this place ♪ ♪ Here but for the grace of God go I ♪ ♪ I am an immigrant ♪ I have left everything I own ♪ To everything I've known ♪ I say goodbye ♪ She said, "Give me your tired" ♪ ♪ Don't you know I'm weary ♪ When she said "Give me your poor" ♪ ♪ She's talking to me ♪ One of your huddled masses ♪ Yearning to breathe free ♪ And I never have lost sight of ♪ ♪ What this journey has been for ♪ ♪ See how she lifts her lamp ♪ Beside that golden door ♪ I am an Irishman ♪ When the famine put us to the test ♪ ♪ Away into the West ♪ Like wild birds flying ♪ We put our backs to the wheel ♪ ♪ With a heart that always yearned for home ♪ ♪ We have made this place our own ♪ ♪ And about died trying ♪ She said, "Give me your tired" ♪ ♪ Don't you know I'm weary ♪ When she said "Give me your poor" ♪ ♪ She's talking to me ♪ One of your huddled masses ♪ Yearning to breathe free ♪ And I never have lost sight of ♪ ♪ What this journey has been for ♪ ♪ See how she lifts her lamp ♪ Beside that golden door ♪ I am Chinese ♪ I worked your mills, your yards, your mines ♪ ♪ Laid your railroad lines ♪ With my two good hands ♪ And I am a Chicano ♪ In your orchards and your fields ♪ ♪ I have gathered in the yields ♪ ♪ For this hungry land ♪ She said, "Give me your tired" ♪ ♪ Don't you know I'm weary ♪ When she said "Give me your poor" ♪ ♪ She's talking to me ♪ One of your huddled masses ♪ Yearning to breathe free ♪ And I never have lost sight of ♪ ♪ What this journey has been for ♪ ♪ See how she lifts her lamp ♪ Beside that golden door ♪ I am Nigerian ♪ I am Iranian, a Jew ♪ From Havana, from Kathmandu ♪ I am your story ♪ I am a long, long line ♪ One you have forgotten that is true ♪ ♪ I am everything you knew ♪ I am your glory ♪ She said, "Give me your tired" ♪ ♪ Don't you know we're weary ♪ When she said "Give me your poor" ♪ ♪ She's talking to you and me ♪ We are the huddled masses ♪ Yearning to breathe free ♪ And we never must loose sight of ♪ ♪ What this journey has been for ♪ ♪ As we lift our lamp ♪ Beside the golden door (guitar music) ♪ Oh I, I am an immigrant ♪ I am, I am an immigrant ♪ I am, I am an immigrant ♪ I am, I am an immigrant ♪ I am - That's a great song.

- Oh, thanks.

- You and I have both made a living playing solo a lot, and did you find that having a lot of different instruments was valuable in that pursuit?

in entertaining an audience with various sounds?

- Well, yes, and it was...

But part of it was a bit of a circus, when you're young it's like, "Look how many different instruments I can play."

But it became...

It got to a point where it distracted from the music, and so I really pared it down to a mere six.

(David laughing) And the skycaps across America love seeing me come.

(David laughing) - He's gonna have to tip.

- But to me it was like having a toolbox.

- Yeah.

- This song sounds good on a banjo, this song really lives on the fiddle.

And some nights I won't play an instrument, I'll just have them up there, like I'm in my shop.

- Yeah, yeah.

- And I'll just reach for this, and then it became much more song-oriented, what song needs to happen right now?

And if I were a carpenter, and had to reach for a pliers, or a screwdriver, or a saw to do this job, that's the way I look at it.

- So how do you see hammered dulcimer fulfilling that?

What does it fulfill, when an audience listens?

- It's the only percussion string instrument that we have in our culture, and when I started playing it, when we started playing it, (because you played it back then too...) - I got tired of tuning the strings.

(both laughing) - Oh, I think the person who invented electronic tuners needs a Nobel prize or something.

(chuckles) - Right.

- From an audience.

I remember your wife and my girlfriend went off to an instrument-building class up in West Virginia.

And toward the end of that, I went up to visit my girlfriend, and she had just completed building a hammered dulcimer which was more cabinetry than luthierie.

- Right.

- And she said, "Your birthday is coming up, happy birthday, you play a bunch of instruments, you can probably do this."

And having been a frustrated drummer when I was a kid, all of a sudden I had two sticks in my hand, and my process of learning how to play an instrument is to de-mythologize it: How does this work?

How is this set up?

And with the dulcimer, it's very logical, and it's the only instrument that I was playing where both hands were doing the same thing.

Everything else was... - Oh, yeah.

...patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time, and once you had that coordination, whether it was a mandolin, or a fiddle, or a banjo, or a guitar, or whatever, or an autoharp, that coordination was not a stumbling block for you anymore.

With this, it was just, well, I saw you the day after I got it, we were playing at the Mountain Music and Dance Festival, and I knew like three tunes.

- "Mississippi Sawyer."

- And I remember, and "Over the Waterfall."

- Yeah.

- And I remember this old woman standing out there looking at it and turning to the person next to her and saying, "I've never seen anybody play the bureau before."

(both chuckle) (hammered dulcimer music) That chance meeting at the Mountain Music and Dance Festival ended up being the beginning of us playing music together for nearly 50 years.

The Brand New Old-Time String Band!

(David laughs) - Never broke up!

- It never broke up, we just haven't had a gig in 45 years.

(David chuckles) (electronic whistle, boing boing, digital glow)