the "folk scare" of the mid-1960s, when some folk musicians did find fame and fortune, it would have been hard to find an art form with less commercial potential. And yet, later this year, Knight will perform at Carnegie Hall. More on that later.
Knight's singing and his straight-ahead, "Just the facts, ma'am" voice, reminiscent of Doc Watson (if you're not familiar with Doc, that's high praise), are solidly in the long tradition of balladeers who put their songs, rather than themselves, center stage. He accompanies himself on three-stringed Appalachian lap dulcimer, fretless banjo (the more primitive precursor of the fretted instrument commonly heard in bluegrass), and mouthbow, which, like the banjo, was brought from Africa by slaves. He also uses a Cherokee river cane flute and drum when he plays the music of the Native Americans of those regions.
Knight is more archaeologist than architect. Instead of building new songs, or updating old ones with modernized arrangements, he unearths the musical artifacts of cultures now disappearing, or gone entirely, and preserves and displays them for us in their original form. That does not mean that his shows are sealed-under-glass museum pieces. By relating the histories of his instruments and their makers, by telling stories of the men and women he studied with, old-timers who learned these songs long before the advent of modern recording technologies, Knight is able to bring to life a culture that helped shape our present world.