* Rhonda Vincent celebrates her return to bluegrass
Jack Bernhardt
* 01/29/99
The News & Observer Raleigh, NC
(Copyright 1999)
* For Ricky Skaggs, Vince Gill and the late Keith Whitley, bluegrass
* music was a stepping stone to country music superstardom. For Rhonda
* Vincent, country music provided a detour that helped her discover
* that the grass is greener where the bluegrass grows.
* After a 25-year career playing bluegrass festivals as a solo act
* and with her family, Vincent was signed to a country music recording
contract in 1991 by Nashville's Giant Records. Two CDs, "Written in
the Stars" and "Trouble Free," were acclaimed by critics but sold
poorly, and Vincent was dropped by the label in '95. With a new
band, a new direction and a new album under way for Rounder Records,
Vincent has returned to the music and lifestyle that have always been
her loves.
"This new project on Rounder is going toward more traditional
* bluegrass," says Vincent, who will perform on a double bill with the
Seldom Scene at Durham's Carolina Theatre Feb. 14. "Right now, I'm
in the middle of people wondering what I'm going to do - if I'm going
* to do country or bluegrass. This new project hopefully will tell
* people, 'Hey, she's in bluegrass, and she's here to stay.' This is
my love, it's where my heart is, and I've just never had so much fun
in my life." Vincent, 36, is one of the great talents in modern
* bluegrass music. She's an accomplished instrumentalist who picks the
fire out of the mandolin, fiddle, guitar, bass, banjo and Dobro. As
a vocalist, she has few peers but many admirers. Alison Krauss cites
Vincent as one of her primary influences, and she's appeared on
albums with Dolly Parton, Randy Travis, Daryle Singleterry and Ralph
Stanley.
One night at the Grand Ole Opry, George Jones surprised Vincent by
calling her up on stage to sing a duet. High praise, indeed.
As a child growing up in Greentop, Mo., music was never so much a
choice as a way of life. Her family, the fifth generation of
Missouri Vincents who play music, performs professionally as the
Sally Mountain Show, named for a nearby landmark, and Vincent began
performing at the age of 3. She made her recording debut at age 4,
was singing on the family's television and radio shows by 6, and
released her first single, a cover of Jimmie Rodgers' classic
"Muleskinner Blues," when she was 8.
Vincent was a featured performer on the Sally Mountain Show until
Giant came calling in '91. In addition to her two country albums,
she has recorded on 10 Sally Mountain Show albums and released four
* solo bluegrass albums.
Last year, she released a retrospective CD, "Yesterday and Today:
Thirty Years of Music." Growing up in a music family was not always
fun for Vincent, but today she has no regrets.
"It's just the way we lived," she says. "I didn't get to go and
stay all night with kids, or go skating, because each night we had
friends over and we would play music. I should tell you that my
father's disabled; that usually helps people understand why I lived
the life that I lived.
"When I was 2, my father had a car accident and broke his neck and
was never expected to walk again. By the grace of God, he's able to
walk with a cane. So, I think he found he couldn't do anything else,
but he always played music. So when I came home from school, my
grandfather and father were waiting there and we would play until
dinner. Then after dinner, friends would come over and we would all
play until bedtime. That was our life.
"I went through the teenage years and I hated that - 'Why can't I
* be a normal teenager?' When I started in country music a friend of
mine said, 'I thought that because of the way you grew up that you
would come to hate music. Instead, you grew to love it.' "
Because of her background, Vincent has been careful not to let her
lifestyle impose on her family. Her husband, Herb, runs the family's
restaurant in Kirksville, Mo., and when Rhonda is on the road, he
takes care of their daughters Sally, 12, and Tinsel, 10.
Herb is also a bass tournament fisherman and a college referee,
working women's basketball and men's baseball games. Vincent says
her family has established a lifestyle that works for everyone.
"They're used to it by now," she says. "It's a way of life for
them. We meet each other coming and going, and everyone gets to do
what they want. That's what's been great - Herb allows me to follow
my dream, and both of us get to do that." Though her country career
was short-lived and frustrating, Vincent feels she received an
education about the music industry that she could not have gotten any
other way.
For one, it gave her a better understanding of the differences
* between the country and bluegrass music industries. Where the Sally
Mountain Show's albums would cost perhaps $500 to make, Giant spent
$225,000 to produce Vincent's "Trouble Free." During her dalliance
with country, it also was Vincent's responsibility to pay rent on the
recording studio and equipment, and she had to reimburse her label
for a loan to pay for a bus, road crew and expenses on her tours,
which included opening shows for Alan Jackson.
It wasn't long before Vincent found herself staring at debt;
finally, she decided that the risk was no longer worth the price.
* "There was so much stress in country music because it was like a
money pit," she says. "The label said they could get me more dates,
but I said, 'No, thanks, I can't afford any more.' That's the side
of the industry that most people don't see. As an opening act, I was
lucky if I broke even."
Vincent also was struck by the differences in social life between
* country and bluegrass artists. "There's a drastic, drastic
* difference," Vincent says. "When you go to a bluegrass festival,
you're gonna hang out with the other bands and you might have a jam
* session. When you go to a country music show, everybody has their
own road manager who is basically your communicator. Everybody else
stays on their bus. They don't communicate with each other; they
walk on stage, they walk off stage, and they go on to the next town.
There's not a kindred spirit, it's more competitive.
* "Country music is radio-driven, too. Bluegrass is more
fan-driven. Country radio is like, if you play a song 20 times in a
* row, the audience is gonna like it. With bluegrass, you perform a
song and get an immediate reaction. That, to me, is the biggest
difference."
Another difference is that there is a large number of women in
* country music but few in bluegrass, where women have grown accustomed
to such unflattering comments as, 'You play pretty well for a girl.'
But because of her reputation and the lifelong involvement of her
* family in bluegrass, Vincent does not expect to be treated poorly.
She's less certain how fans will respond to a woman doing the
* traditional bluegrass music of the pioneering Bill Monroe and modern
male-only groups, such as the James King Band and Longview.
* But it's the old bluegrass that she loves and, having experienced
* life on the other side, Vincent knows that bluegrass music is where
she belongs.
"That's the slot I'm trying to fill," she says. "Being a female
* and doing the hard-driving, traditional bluegrass music. It's hard
to describe to people, but I have a great husband, we have our own
business, and there's something about taking the responsibility off
my shoulders that I get to do this because I enjoy it, and not having
to do it so that my children can eat next week. I'm so relieved and
enjoying it so much more.
"People ask me what happened in country, but there's no way to
* explain it. I'm just so happy to be in bluegrass. Life is great."
