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Thursday October 23, 2014
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Danny Barnes

 

continued

rough, fun, clever, and manly, and I love it.

As so often happens with the artists who make a huge impact on me, I didn't ever set out to find him. Barnes was opening — I think for the fab Billy Joe Shaver — at the Ark about five years ago, and the second he came onstage (I swear, before he even played anything) I knew he was the real deal. I guess I like big, muscly, fine-heada-hair guys who play banjo — something I didn't know about myself. What I did know was that this guy was different. In fact, he was different from different. Irreverent, cocky, and funky. A little scary. Like if you touched his arm you might get a shock.

After all this time I have no idea what he played, but he played and sang great, and I do know I ran to the lobby and bought his then-new record, Things I Done Wrong (made with his band Thee Old Codgers), went home, and played it about a million times.

Barnes was born in Texas to a family with deep roots in all forms of country music. His grandma's Tennessee lineage brought him to the records of Flatt and Scruggs. His dad played banjo, one brother loved Delta blues, the other was into punk rock. This, of course, makes all the sense in the world when you hear Barnes's music.

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