An interview with Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir’s Bob Keelaghan
James G. Carlson
Posted On April 28, 2011
Recent music history shows that a substantial roots revival came about a handful of years ago. Today it is still going on, indeed on a larger scale than at its onset, with new and unusual bands and singer/songwriters surfacing from the underground at every turn. One such band is the Calgary-based quartet Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir, whose music has not only been recognized as part of today’s roots revival scene but also a rather important addition to it.
Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir’s sound is a very deliberate mixture of pre-war country blues, Appalachian folk and old-time bluegrass, and vagabond gospel. And the musicians and singer/songwriters who have created this sound, as of their 2008 release Ten Thousand, are Vlad Sobolewski (bass, trombone, and backing vocals), Judd Palmer (banjo, slide guitar, piano, harmonica, and vocals), Bob Keelaghan (guitars and vocals), Peter Balkwill (drums, percussion, and backing vocals).
That particular lineup wasn’t always the case, however, as former member Jay Woolley presided over the drums and other matters of percussion for the band’s 2003 debut, Saint Hubert, and their second, titled Fighting and Onions.
While the Agnostics’ sound evidently respects traditional music fundamentals, it is composed and played in a way which removes it slightly from such associations, leaving it free to roam like any restless wayfarer across the vast wildnerness of roots music, as well as modern soundscapes. Where it ends up each time is…well, right in the middle, camped out under vivid stars and leaning trees, where four bearded fellas sit around pickin’ on banjos, strummin’ on guitars, pluckin’ on the thick strings of the ol’ upright, laying down fits of rhythmic pounding on the drum kit, and belting out gruff vocals that are at once soulful and fiery. After all, it is a rather organic sound that they own, this Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir, and they can play it just as well in the nighttime woods and on city sidewalks as they can in the smoky barrooms and crowded venues of the world.
Regardless of where it is played, it is always something one can clap one’s hands to and stomp one’s feet to. And I hear tell they put on one helluva show.
In 2008, Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir released what stands as their latest album, titled Ten Thousand, which is somewhat different from its predecessor, Fighting and Onions, in that it is a bit tighter, slightly more experimental, and a good bit bluesier. With all three releases, however, listeners can come to the same conclusion: Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir can probably always be expected to play roots music, like country blues and old-time bluegrass, but even more than that they can be expected to play it their own way. And they will probably also always call themselves a choir, even though they are obviously not one.
Be that as it may, the Agnostics are a fine outfit of white bluesmen and dedicated string-pickers. And recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir’s Bob Keelaghan. What follows is that interview in its entirety.
To begin, how about a brief history of Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir?
Myself [Bob Keelaghan] and bassist Vlad Sobolewski played together in a band called the Puritans, a punk-blues-unsane-a-billy-agressive-swing band based in Calgary. Vlad did double-time in a country-folk band called Great Uncle Bull that Judd Palmer also played in.
Around ten years ago, both those bands broke up. Judd got a call to open a show for a guy named Lester Quitzau, who had a pretty good following in these parts. Drummer Pete Balkwill urged him to take the gig and suggested Vlad and I round out the band. We only had three rehearsals, all within one week of the gig. It must have gone over well because people kept asking us to play. The gigs got progressively better to the point where promoters in other cities and countries started inviting us share the charm.
The AMGC have recorded three CDs, and folks of various ages, dispositions, and ethnicities seem to like them.
That’s the short, unromanticized history that leaves out any gory details.
Your sound is a fairly balanced combination of country and blues, with perhaps a bit of Appalachian folk, bluegrass, Americana, and the like. In other words, a somewhat diverse roots-based sound. What influenced you to embrace such a sound?
For myself, I grew up in a household where my dad played a lot of Irish folk records and my bother James became a folk musician. So I had an ear for roots music, though it didn’t really sink in until my later teens, the time when you realize it’s not such a bad thing to be closed-minded.
It also goes back to some of the music I loved as a teenager, like Zeppelin, Hendrix, early Aerosmith (emphasize early, you know, when they were fucked-up junkies whose only redeeming quality was that they made good music), or the Stones, the stuff a lot of white, suburban teenagers dug. Once I found out that “Dazed and Confused,” “Whole Lotta Love,” and “You’ve Got To Move” came from somewhere else, it made me want to find out where they came from.
It a roundabout way, it eventually led me to the music of Skip James, Bukka White, and the Reverend Gary Davis.
Lastly, when I was playing in the Puritans, I started questioning the value of playing in a loud band when I couldn’t hear myself or my bandmates properly on stage. I also started thinking about how modern recordings are artificial. How does a pop band with a whispering vocalist get away with that? Any whispering vocalist doesn’t have a chance of being heard in a live setting.
When I was listening to Delta blues or mountain music recordings from the 1920s, 30s, or 40s, I was always blown away by how every singer is belting it out. The guitarists and banjo players aren’t punching in. As a performer they had to bring the noise. If they didn’t have what it took to command a room, they wouldn’t get recorded. There was no compensation for weak performances.
I wanted to work with those values.
In Judd’s case, he had a dad who was a blues fan, and he took a fanatical liking to John Lee Hooker and Howling Wolf when he was a teen. It carried over to his adulthood when he played harmonica in some blues bands that didn’t make it far out of the garage. I can’t give you too much detail because I can’t elaborate on his thoughts, but Howling Wolf is another man who was of that Delta school who believed that if you couldn’t cut it live you didn’t mean anything. And John Lee Hooker, in his prime, was the king of boogie hypnosis and trance.
I met Judd when we were both in our twenties, before Great Uncle Bull formed. One night I had the opportunity to hear him play slide and sing at a spontaneous jam session, and I was kind of blown away there was a guy in our age group in Calgary who had a feel for this kind of music.
So when it came to the prospect of playing together in this project, it was definitely worth trying.
Is there anything to the band name, Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir? Why did you choose it?
It could have stemmed from a near-maiming-possibly-death experience Judd had on a hiking trip in the Rocky Mountains and the resulting euphoria at having survived it. It could have also been suggested by Judd’s spiritual advisor James Davedge, who was rumoured to have suggested it to him after one of his highly-secretive rituals based on the rites of the Cathars. It might also have had its origins in Pete Balkwill’s split from a revival choir because he wanted to go in a heavier direction.
I’m not in a position to confirm or deny any of that.
What have been some of your most memorable moments as a band?
There have been many. I’ll try and be brief.
Playing the Dawson City Music Festival definitely comes to mind. It’s in Yukon, Canada. Look for it on a map. It’s so far north that it is daylight for a good twenty-one hours when the festival runs in July. It’s a small festival, but it has one of the best, warmest, yet wild atmospheres anywhere. Not only did we get to hang out for a week in a former gold rush metropolis, play music, and have a great time, we were asked to close the festival. This was a bit intimidating for us because The Sadies were there, too. We hold them in high regard. The closing set went off like lightning, though. It was a confidence builder and a monumental cultural experience. Other than Ethiopia, where are you going to find a festival that cooks it musicians and volunteers an Ethiopian meal? In Yukon? Get outta town. Yet it happened. It was no dream. That’s not even half of it.
Playing in England and seeing people who knew the songs singing along in the audience was a bit of a mind-blower for an independent band from Calgary.
Our association with the Open House Festival in Belfast has been petty special, too. Of all possible places, it was our first show outside of Canada and we’ve been invited back several times. It’s strange having a following in a city like Belfast, but it’s also special given that the Open House Festival is about bringing people together to enjoy music, despite the fucked-up politics of the city’s (and region’s history). Open House, folks. All people are welcome. The Agnostics are happy to oblige. At the risk of putting my foot in my mouth, something like that is kind of a barometer for positive change. That gives me hope, anyway. Oh yeah, it’s a kick-ass music festival as well.
There are many more, but for all the great gigs we’ve done, it comes down to all the cool people we’ve met, hung out with, drank with, and played music with.
At present, Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir has a handful of worthy contemporaries, like The Devil Makes Three, Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band, Possessed by Paul James, Murder by Death, Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, .357 String Band, Black Jake & the Carnies, The Can Kickers, and so on. What are your thoughts on today’s country and blues scene in general?
Some of those bands I know. Some of them I don’t.
I would say it’s pretty healthy in that there is a worldwide network of musicians who are dedicated to playing country and blues as close as possible to the spirit of its pioneers. I don’t mean replicating the sound in a traditionalist sense, but bringing out all the raw energy and scuffing the polish. Whatever they’re trying to express: the sorrow, joy, anger, longing, whatever; it’s not muted.
It heartens me to know that there are others who want to take the music back from polite traditionalists and slick professionals (professional in the sense that they share the same skill as a veterinarian for cutting the balls of a wild beast).
You are clearly a Son House fan. After all, you covered him on both your “Fighting & Onions” and “Ten Thousand” albums. And then you put his image on the cover of “Ten Thousand” on a hell bank note. What are your thoughts on Eddie Son House? And…what’s the significance of placing his image on the hell bank note (for those who aren’t familiar with the custom)?
Judd is the Son House fanatic. He was clearly an influence on his singing style. House had a transcendent intensity when he was on.
I’ve recently been listening to the few early recordings that he did. Back then, he clearly had it going on. His voice had an otherworldly intensity. At that time he was a far better guitarist than he was given credit for, too. He kind of lost his guitar-playing reputation after his rediscovery, though his voice was still strong. But you can really hear how he influenced Robert Johnson, and yet Johnson is the legend. That’s the way it goes, though.
As far as the hell bank note goes, it’s a way of paying tribute. The bank note is a Chinese Bhuddhist custom. They burn these things so their relatives and loved ones will be wealthy in the afterlife. (Incidently, they wound up calling them hell bank notes because of fanatical Christian missionaries preaching that Bhuddhists would go to hell when they died. Right, that’s what whitey calls the afterlife.)
Son House was an arbitrary choice of the artist who did the cover. It could have been any old blues or country musician who influenced us. But it’s our way of paying tribute to the obscure musicians who influenced our music. (That is, obscure by popular standards.) We wish them wealth in the afterlife, whatever that is. A lot of good that does them now. It’s the thought that counts, right?
So, putting his picture on a hell bank note has nothing to do with House’s conflicted life or his vices.
What have been some of your biggest influences from the past and present, musical and otherwise?
And otherwise? That’s pretty broad.
My biggest musical influences are kind of hard to assess because they are pretty broad. It could be all the years I spent listening to Led Zeppelin as a teenager, after being introduced to them by my sister Marg’s loud stereo. They were a gateway to the blues; funky, heavy, and versatile. If they didn’t have Robert Plant’s dumbass lyrics, I might still listen to those records.
I mentioned Skip James. When I first heard “Hard Time Killing Floor Blues” from his 1930s sessions I was riveted. He had a ton of finesse as a guitarist and the freaky, soulful voice had me hypnotized.
There’s one particular version of “Stop and Listen” by Sam Chatmon that really turned my head about how acoustic blues could and should be played. It’s from a BBC documentary called The Devil’s Music. I heard it when I was eighteen, and it knocked me on my ass.
Beefheart (R.I.P.) is there, too; mainly the Spotlight Kid and Clear Spot albums. He was a guy who made the blues his own and that was especially crafty for a honky. So many musicans just imitate a formula. Van Vliet mutated it naturally on those records. They’re R’n’B records that have beautiful twists.
Lately, I’ve been going back to Charlie Patton. Again, he’s a guy with an intimidating voice, but being one of the first blues guys to record, he basically laid out all the basic forms for 20th century blues, wherever he got them from. He was pretty versatile in his repertoire.
As far as all the other influences, I’m all over the map. I could blather on about records by King Crimson, Bad Brains, Dick Gaughan, Uncle Tupelo, Taraf de Haidouk, Thin Lizzy, Morphine, Sonny Sharrock, Mississippi Sheiks, and hosts of others that have been burned in my brain and come out in the mix one way or another.
Any noteworthy happenings in the Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir camp? And can we expect the members’ time off from AMGC to end any time soon?
It’s hard to say. Judd and I had been exchanging some demos by e-mail, but there is no telling if he is going to want to record another CD. Right now, he’s residing in Mexico. Time will tell.
In the meantime, Vlad, Jay Woolley (the AMGC’s second drummer), and myself are about to record a CD with our side project, Agnostic-Phibes Rhythm & Blood Conspiracy. The Phibes is Jackson Phibes, frontman and leader of Calgary garage-horror-punk micro-legends Forbidden Dimension. This is actually something we’ve talked about doing for years, but now we’ve got the time on our hands.
Lastly, if there’s anything I failed to cover, or if there’s anything you’d like to express or discuss, please feel free to do so now. The floor is all yours.
I could get on a soapbox and rant about how salvation for the earth rests with interplanetary aliens and their proven leadership skills, but would anyone really want to hear about it? Is it fair to use your publication as a mouthpiece? Nah. It’s about the music, not the politics, right?
*article/interview originally posted at The National Examiner.
