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In the booklet to this album, you tell the story of an experience you had down in Mississippi during Hurricane Katrina. A train went by really close to you, and you basically saw your entire life and career flash before your eyes during those few seconds. As you say, you came out of it with a renewed spirit and a mission. Why do you think that roaring train passing right by you made such had such a huge impact on you?
I really don't know. I wish I could give you a real answer. We all have points in our lives where we take stock of things, sometimes willingly and sometimes unwillingly. The more I stood there that night, the more it was like a spiritual experience. I really couldn't leave, even though the wind and the rain was blowing, I just kept standing there, imagining.
And this was the first time you had experienced an epiphany of this kind?
At that magnitude, yes. That was on a grand scale.
Were you at a pont in your career where you needed something like this to happen in order to keep going?
Without question. As artists, visionaries and creative spirits, we all have to keep growing. You either grow or become a parody of yourself, and I'm a cartoon character enough when I look in the mirror! It's essential that we keep growing until the day we die.
You've said that you wanted this album to be a traditional country record, and that you fear that traditional question is in danger of becoming extinct. But what I don't understand is, at a time where country music is selling better than ever, how come traditional country fails to keep up?
I don't know. I don't know if country music is selling better than it has before. I know there are artists out there selling a lot of records, but as a genre itself, it has moved from the dirtroads to the pavement. In my heart, I wanted this record to be a traditional country record, and sales don't even come into that. It is what it is. There are lot of kids who come to Nashville to play traditional country, but there's really nowhere to play it. They're not encouraged to play it, cos it doesn't sound, taste or look like what's in the face value of it right now. It's impossible to find any hope in that, but hopefully this record will inspire some people to follow their hearts and do it anyway.
If you could give these young players some advice, what would it be?
In my case, I guess I've had enough succes to do what I wanted to do, but at any cost, follow your heart. It still takes you to the right place. It's like being a kid with a guitar. When I was nine years old in the middle of nowhere, Mississippi, there really wasn't anywhere to play that guitar other than the front porch. But I found a way to do it, and if you believe in it hard enough, you'll find a place to play your music.
You recorded the album in the famous RCA Studio B in Nashville. What's so special about that studio? It sounds like it's the Abbey Road of country music.
It is a magical place. Abbey Road is a good comparison, it's a rock n'roll cathedral much in the same way as Studio B is a country music cathedral. It's a music room first and foremost. It doesn't get utilized a whole lot anymore, it's more of a class room and a museum than it is a recording environment. If you go back and listen to the records that were recorded there, you can hear how the room is a part of the sound.
A lot of the old studios in Nashville are closing. What happened?
Time changed, technology changed, everything changed. The only reason Studio B still exists, is because it's a museum. It did go out of business for a long time, I'm just glad they didn't tear it down.
You've said that you wanted to throw away the rulebook when you made this album. What are these rules?
Well, mainly that it's not okay to play country music anymore. Writing a traditional country song, not a retro country song, but a traditional country song, is not the thing to do on Music Row anymore. It is not a part of the modern rulebook. I promise you, the most outlaw and renegade thing you can do in Nashville right now, is to play true country music.
That's a bit ironic, isn't it? I know Waylon Jennings recorded a lot of his albums in that studio, and back then, he was rebelling against traditional country and the rules of Nashville. Nowadays, if you want to be an outlaw, you have to play traditional country…
That's a great point. At the time, they needed to break off and take it in another direction, and that's what they did. If you go back and listen to the first commercial record I did on Columbia Records (1986's self-titled album, .ed), it sounded a lot like what they play on country radio today. It was about getting the music out to younger people, because we had all played to old-timers, who didn't care about, for a long time. We had to get it to a young crowd, but all of a sudden, rock n'roll and country music were shaking hands. As time went on, the more I thought about it, the more country music was getting lost in this. Country music sounds more like AC/DC these days. So I thought, You know what, I helped get it out here, but now I need to get it home. That's what my band and I are trying to do. And that's a very outlaw thing to do.
You see that happening again, don't you? These days, country music seems to be marketed very much towards a younger audience, who, ten years ago, would have bought hiphop records, but are now listening to Taylor Swift and other artists like that.
It's a bit like… do you have that seafood chain called Captain D's over there?
No
Well, we have them here in America, and they sell a whole lot more fish than the old-timey fish office do, because they've succeeded in making fish not taste like fish. Pure country music probably might be a bit too strong for a 16-year old girl, but if you live long enough, real country music will matter to you.
The song Hangman was written with Johnny Cash a few days before his passing, and Porter Wagoner's Grave is about your friend, Porter Wagoner. Is this your most personal record to date?
It is. This record has been well lived-through. That says it all. I lost some dear friends during the writing proces of this album, and often, the best way I deal with things is to write about it.
Was it a difficult record to make, having to go through these memories of loss?
No. Because it's real. It's where I come from, and everything can't be pleasant.
You play The Byrds guitarist Clarence White's guitar on this record. What's that like, playing such a legendary instrument?
It's a responsibility of sorts, because he was such a mighty guitar player. I've owned that guitar since 1980, and I never felt like I came up with the proper recital piece. I've played that guitar on a lot of hits, on a lot of recordings, and I've played it at every concert just about since 1980, but I've always lacked that one song that branded that guitar, and I think the song Hummingbyrd took care of that.
Were The Byrds a big influence on you?
Absolutely. I loved The Byrds, I loved every configuration of The Byrds, but one of my favorites, was the latter-day Byrds when Clarence White, Gene Parsons and Roger McGuinn got back and just played.
It must have been very interesting being right in the middle of that country rock revolution in the early 70's, when these people were suddenly taking country music to new places. What did you make of Sweetheart of the Rodeo when it first came out?
Well, I was in Lester Flatt's band, and we played bluegrass. And Roland, Clarence's brother, was the guy who got me the job with Lester, because he was in Lester's band as well. I'd hear Roland talk about Sweetheart of the Rodeo and playing those kinds of things, but when I was with Lester Flatt, we played a concert at Michigan State University, and Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris and the Eagles were at the show, and that was a bit like seeing Sweetheart of the Rodeo come to life. As a young musician, I thought, boy, this is really cool, you can combine country music with rock n'roll, folk and gospel, and it just all works. That record really had a profound influence on me.
Bluegrass has enjoyed a huge amount of succes during the last decade, a lot of it due to the fact that the film Oh Brother Where Art Thou put it back on the map. Why do you think bluegrass has had more luck in surviving than traditional country?
It always helps to have a movie. In the 70's, when I was in Lester's band, the movie Deliverance kind of did the same thing as Oh Brother Where Art Thou did. I can tell you, from a historical perspective, it always attracts a new wave of fans, it always inspires a new generation of kids to play guitars, fiddles, banjos and mandolins, and it boosts business. It raises the visibility of a niche-culture, which I totally think deserves the attention it can get. I think Oh Brother did a great thing for bluegrass, and I've already seen the results. I've seen kids playing it, I've seen the audiences get bigger, I've seen Alison Krauss playing with Robert Plant, so it's having a lot of far reaching effects.
You also see a lot of younger artists these days taking bluegrass to new places, like The Punch Brothers, Old Crow Medicine Show and the Avett Brothers, who can do both the traditional songs and the more alternative stuff…
Well, back when I first started out, there was this thing called newgrass, which was the alternative way to do it. What is required of you as a bluegrass player, is an incredible amount of musicianship. It has always reminded me of jazz. The sky is the limit, and if you can think it up, you can play it.
In 2007, you managed to bring back the legendary Porter Wagoner, and you produced what would be his last record, Wagonmaster. What was it like working with Porter?
From the time I was a kid, I loved Porter's tv-show. I loved his music first and foremost, I loved his costumes, his entire presentation. I thought Porter was a cool character, and truly one of the great masters of Nashville. But as time went on, Porter was kinda like not very well regarded anymore, it was like his star was fading, and what was concerning me, was that he was going to leave this world without his musical integrity intact. So I went over and saw him one day and asked if he had any new songs, and he started playing me these songs, and I said ”Wow, that's like a page out of the Bibel or something.” I heard myself tell him that I wanted to make a record with him, but I found that no one in Nashville cared. So I found him a deal with Anti in Los Angeles, which is an alternative label. This was his last year of life, and I don't think anybody had told him in 25 years that it was okay to be Porter Wagoner and play the kind of music that made us fall in love with you in the first place. You don't need to play rock n'roll guitars on your records, you don't have to do what Johnny Cash did, or what Loretta Lynn did with Jack White. Let's go the other way and make a real hardcore country record. That is what you really are. And he just said ”That's easy”, and what we did, I thought was pretty phenomenal.
A lot of my friends, who weren't otherwise interested in country music, really fell in love with Wagonmaster. In a world where few artists last more than a couple of records before they fade and slip from our memories, why is it that people such as Porter and Johnny Cash, both friends of yours, manage to make such a mark among new and perhaps even young audiences?
The same reason a Picasso or a Rembrandt painting works a hundred years later. They were authentic in what they did, they were true masters, they had a perspective on life and circumstances that a lot of people perhaps didn't. To me, it's the difference in people, and you can apply this to today's crop of stars too. There are people who are hot, and they won't matter 15 minutes after their moment is gone, but there are also people out there who have something to say, and their work will matter from now on. It's just a matter of the next generation finding them and having a chance to look at it.
Do you think the same thing would have happened to Johnny Cash if he hadn't made those American Recordings?
It had happened! It had happened. When I was in his band, we would play concerts in America, and it might be 1200 senior citizens showing up! We'd play to bigger crowds at fairgrounds, but it would still be to senior citizens mostly! We made record after record with him during the 80's and nobody seemed to pay attention. But when we went over to Europe and played in the UK, Germany and those places, I could see the second coming of Johnny Cash. He was still a rock star over there. It was just about getting him to the right guy, which happened to be Rick Rubin. That put him in a different frame and a in a different light, and all of a sudden, the world saw Johnny Cash again.
Okay, the big, final question. You've been around a lot of legends, but if you should leave the earth tomorrow, what kind of legacy would you like to leave behind?
It's a work in progress, but if I have to walk off today, I'm content in the fact that I'm fighting for what I believe in, and that is authentic country music, traditional country music, the timeless country music. I'm not content to watch it slip away. I'm in a good place, because I get to see the old-timers home, like Porter and Johnny Cash, but at the same time, I get to do what I'm doing in the middle, and offer it to the next generation of kids. And that's a pretty good legacy I think.
Marty Stuart's Ghost Train – The Studio B Sessions is out now on Superlatone/Sugar Hill/EMI. For more, go to Martystuart.com
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