the Daily News
Band Does Namesake Right Proud
July, 2003 by Cal Powell
It's appropriate that the first time I heard Dread Clampitt play a song was the same day I heard Buddy Ebsen died out in California.
Ebsen, known to me and millions of others as laid-back patriarch Jed Clampitt from "The Beverly Hillbillies," was 95 years old when he passed away on Sunday, leaving behing a hundred black-and-white memories and probably a good dog or two.
"We're going to dedicate this show to Jed," curly-haired mandolin player Balder Saunders said to a room full of maybe 12 folks inside the Funky Blues Shack in Destin on Monday night.
Saunders, as easygoing as Jed's old dog Duke, dreamed up the name Dread Clampitt when a laughing Marine Corps buddy of his suggested they start a reggae-bluegrass fusion band.
They don't do much reggae, but the four-man group that also features Destin's Kyle Ogle on guitar, local legend Duke Bardwell on bass and Australian fiddle champion Justin Lewis Price-Rees probably could if it wanted.
It's hard to describe their style, perhaps because they're so versatile. It's not straight bluegrass, but it does have some of those leanings mixed with some rock 'n' roll, country, blues and soul.
People are taking notice. The band's self-titled CD, out only about a month, was mentioned in a recent Rolling Stone magazine for being a big seller at a local music store.
My favorite is "Granny Brown," a song Balder wrote about his dearly departed music lovin, Bible-totin' grandmother from Parker, Fla, who played a "harp (harmonica) with a mouth full of snuff."
Explaining the song Monday, Balder recalled a school project that required a term paper about the Great Depression. Tape recorder in hand, he went to see Granny Brown.
"Tell me about the Depression," he asked.
"There weren't no such thing," she said. "We always lived that way."
"Granny Brown, she never had a frown, " Balder began singing.
"She always had the Scripture and a hymn in her hand, and now she's playing in the angel band," is part of the chours.
Dread Clampitt's home office is a hot-as-asphalt doublewide trailer in Grayton Beach. Kyle, godson of Bardwell, has the group's only working vehicle. I'm not qualified to talk specifics, but I feel safe saying that talent-wise, I don't know if there are many better musicians out there.
If there's a man with a faster set of fingers that Balders's I hope he's locked up somewhere. The man can make the mandolin sing.
Rees' fiddle solos are frequent and fast, and some sound like a mournful old coon dog, which is what I like a fiddle to sound like.
Between their second and third sets, I spent a few minutes with the band. They struck me as a few ol'boys just out to make some good music and have some fun.
I told them I hope they make it.
Kyle looked at me funny.
"Make it? We've already made it," he said.
"I make music for a living, I live on the beach and I grill fish on the back porch," he said. "If that ain't making it..."
I have a feeling ol' Jed would be proud of these boys.