Ryan Lee Crosby Ain't Unwelcome Here

 
Two musicians outside; a man playing guitar and singing and a woman on drums

Ryan Lee with Maya. Photo by Nicoline Valkenberg.

 

Ryan Lee Crosby (he/him) is a human being, musician, husband, and caretaker of two dogs. After spending nearly a quarter-century in Boston, he relocated to Portsmouth, RI in 2022. No stranger to our state, Ryan Lee’s played regularly over the years, and now you’ll find him in the mix a bunch with us here at Myrtle. Check out his monthly show on 3rd Tuesdays, and a guitar workshop on April 27. We also want to shout out an upcoming gig on 5/17 at Common Fence Point Arts & Wellness Center in Portsmouth.

 

TW: What’s your earliest memory of making something that felt true?

RL: The first song I wrote, when I was 13, was an attempt at the blues. I had my heart broken and found refuge in music and writing. Before I picked up the guitar at 14, I was trying to learn to sing and play the harmonica. I was in love with rock music at that time, but I felt like I wanted to be a blues singer. That was what felt true to me from the beginning.

TW: How about more recently; what’s giving you energy?

RL: I've been doing more production work, recording other artists in addition to myself. My passion in recording centers around vintage analog equipment, both tape recorders and outboard gear. I’m really excited about producing on a 4 track cassette, but I also like reel to reels and will record digitally if that's what's best for an artist. I’m also proud of my latest album, Winter Hill Blues, which was produced by Bruce Watson of Fat Possum Records at Delta Sonic Sound in Memphis. This is the fullest realization of my style to be publicly released so far, blending Bentonia and North Mississippi influences on electric and acoustic 12 string guitars, with falsetto vocals and lap style slide, backed by some of the best players in Memphis.

TW: Yeah, it’s rad. Eight Years Gone is a ripper! So you put in two decades up in Boston, are you originally from the area?

RL: I grew up in Northern Virginia and spent summers at the beach in Delaware, where my grandparents lived. We moved to Connecticut when I was eleven and the transition was disruptive and isolating. This is where I really discovered music and found healing through sound for the first time. I stayed in Connecticut for seven years, where the essential aspects of my identity formed. I fell in love with music, writing and recording, and producing songs on a four track. In many ways, not much has changed. In 1998, I moved to Boston with dreams of becoming a professional musician and working in the club scene there.

TW: Where else has music taken you, geographically and, what keeps you grounded?

RL: I have toured a good deal around Europe—Germany, Italy, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Sweden. I think the furthest from home that I have been is in the upper half of Sweden, where I played a show in a theater that felt like it was on the edge of the Earth. I was traveling alone and the GPS was cutting in and out; I was very nervous, but the show was ultimately a beautiful experience. One of the lessons of solo touring and performing has been to learn to relax and trust, to have faith in fundamental goodness. Enjoy the journey along the way.

 
A photo of a man speaking into a microphone while another man holding a guitar looks on

Ryan Lee with Jimmy Duck Holmes. Photo by Rex Hart.

 

RL: On and off, I have practiced yoga and meditation, and studied Indian Classical music (raga) for a few years. These experiences inform my approach to interpreting the Bentonia and North Mississippi blues styles, which are hypnotic, repetitive, highly improvisational and primarily one chord forms. I’ve also been sober for nearly 11 years—all of the good in my life comes from this. Refraining from drugs and alcohol is a core part of what allowed me to move into full time work as an independent creative person.

TW: Music’s full time? That’s great. Could you elaborate on how that actually takes shape?

RL: For income, I split my time and focus between performing, teaching and producing. I have been fully self-employed for about ten years, with a community of people who I feel connected to around the US and Europe. I see guitar students in person and online, many of whom I've met through my travels in Mississippi, as well as having been based in Boston for decades. I also travel near and far to perform with regular regional dates in New England, trips to the Mississippi Delta 2-3 times a year, and annual tours in Germany. 

TW: Why Germany?

RL: There is a rich history of blues appreciation in Germany going back to the 60s, when African American performers like Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Skip James and others traveled over with The American Folk-Blues Festival (there's a lot of great footage of this on YouTube). The legacy of this lives on now and I hope it continues into the future. People in Germany, I have found, really listen. The experience of playing there keeps me inspired to play in the US for months after I return. I have a small community there, which was unfortunately diminished by the pandemic, but appears to be rebuilding. I will keep going as long as the interest is there.

TW: You mentioned sobriety as a form of personal sustainability; any thoughts on broader environmental issues? There’s no touring in a world aflame.

RL: I suspect that it will continue to evolve over time, but for me, currently, [touring] means fewer miles in the car and fewer flights whenever I can. I work from home as much as I'm able and feel a lot of solace in doing so. Five years ago, I would take nearly any gig and make the trip to get there, no matter what. But now, I try to be more selective and only go places when it feels like there is a clear purpose that can't be denied, with a focus on quality over quantity and a sense of trust that the work will be there when I need it. Some of this is influenced by an awareness of the climate, but I also see it as part of a wave of change that includes being more mindful of energy expenditure overall, which includes not only fossil fuels, but my own lifeforce, as well. I find this question difficult to answer. None of this feels like a satisfactory response, but it is the truth of where I am right now.

TW: Where do you see yourself within the larger historical context of the blues?

RL: I think regularly about what it means to me to be a white man from New England who aspires to play the blues. This is a core aspect of what has led me to spend as much time as I can in Mississippi, playing and learning from the lineage holders of the traditions that inspire me. Two musicians in particular who have changed the way I play and relate are Jimmy "Duck" Holmes and the late RL Boyce, who passed away a few months ago. Spending time with them and playing with them onstage will forever influence how I think about music and people. I was lucky to hear and meet Robert Belfour in person once, before he passed away in 2015. That day was transformational for my playing, and also my understanding of how to relate to people with kindness. I have tried to acknowledge and give back to them as often as I can, whenever I perform and teach. 

TW: What’s giving back look like?

Over the years, when I'm able, I have sent donations and contributions their way, for various causes. Jimmy "Duck" Holmes—in addition to owning The Blue Front Cafe, the longest continually operating Juke Joint in the U.S.—also hosts the annual Bentonia Blues Festival, which is one of the longest running independent blues festivals in the country. If people would like to contribute to this living legacy of the blues [please click on this link]. 

 

Blue Front Cafe. Photo by Natalie Maynor, 2006. CC BY 2.0. Send in a donation here.

 

You've mentioned the Bentonia and North Mississippi styles a few times; can you speak to how these styles are defined in greater detail, and why they resonate with you? 

RL: The Bentonia blues and North Mississippi Hill Country blues are regional styles from beyond the Delta. They are very rhythmic, hypnotic and highly improvisational traditions that complement each other well, but have some significant differences. The Bentonia blues has an eerie, otherworldly sound, often played at midtempo in an open minor tuning with high vocals. The standard repertoire includes lyrical themes of devils, death and deep suffering, with a heavy atmosphere in the music. It may well be the most haunting sound in all of the blues.

TW: Skip James energy. Love it. And the North Mississippi sound?

RL: The North Mississippi region has some very different, but complementary qualities. It is also hypnotic, repetitive and improvisational, but there is more of a major tonality and the tempo is often more upbeat. Lineages include the Kimbrough family, who play their own style that's known as Cotton Patch Soul Blues. and the Burnside family who, along with the Kimbroughs, are from in and around Holly Springs. The Hemphill family and the Boyce family come from in and around Senatobia and Como. Fred McDowell is another important Hill Country figure, as is my favorite, Robert Belfour from Red Banks, Mississippi. In particular, I believe the Hemphill and Boyce lineages are rooted in the fife and drum tradition, in which the melody is played on a handmade flute and the drums are played by a group—one person with snare, one with bass drum, etc.

I can't forget the Ayers family. The father, Joe Ayers, and his son Trenton are connected to the Kimbrough sound. Joe played with Junior Kimbrough for years; Trenton played with Cedric Burnside for a while. Trenton’s picked up the torch and is running, his style holds the tradition deeply while drawing from more contemporary influences. They are both the history and future of North Mississippi blues.

These styles speak to the body, mind, heart, and soul. As primarily one chord music, they are very hypnotic and can put you into a meditative, trance-like state, which I find to be deeply soothing. As they are both very rhythmic, they engage the body, as well as the mind. The Bentonia sound is more mid to low tempo and the North Mississippi style can be more uptempo, but they have similar effects of harnessing and holding consciousness in really meaningful ways. When you let go into the momentum of the music, it is heart opening and soul nourishing, especially when hearing and playing it at the source. Traveling to Bentonia is a big part of how I "fill the well."

 
Two performers playing guitar; each are wearing hats and eyeglasses

Ryan Lee with RL Boyce. Photo by Michael Kurgansky.

 

TW: In your own role as an educator, do you see yourself learning from students?

RL: All the time. One of my first teachers, Paul Rishell, told me "If you're not learning while teaching, you're not really teaching." I carry that with me, and I have found that much of how I relate to music and people comes from wanting to meet others where they are. Teaching has helped me to be kinder, more open, more patient and to think about music from multiple perspectives, including technical, personal, cultural, and spiritual.

TW: For our second-to-last Q here, we’d like to get a bit nerdy about gear. What was used on Winter Hill Blues? Favorite gear? Etc.

RL: On Winter Hill Blues I played my Frankenstein Fender electric xii string, split through a 1966 Fender Deluxe Reverb and a Kalamazoo model 2 amp. I also played some guitars which belonged to the studio including a ‘61 Gibson b-25 (acoustic 12 string) and a 1957 Gibson J45 (6 string), along with a 1960s Stella Harmony parlor guitar, which was played lap style with a tone bar. At the time, the Stella belonged to my wife.

All the music was recorded on tape with a Mara reel to reel recorder and mixed analog. But, as I didn't produce the session, I wasn't as particular about the gear we used. Now, from my home studio, I often use a Tascam 464 four track cassette deck, a Teac 3440 reel to reel, a Tascam 22-2 reel to reel for mixdown, and outboard gear that includes a DBX 161 compressor, a Sansui Spring reverb and a Teac Model 3 mixer (all 1970s). I love analog and specifically 4 tracks for the ability to draw you into the present— it requires focus and commitment, along with a willingness to embrace imperfection. Plus I love not-looking at a screen.

TW: What texts might offer our readers a nourishing break from the screen— after they’ve read all The Well interviews, Myrtle’s upcoming calendar, etc? 

The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron
The Listening Book by WA Mathieu
The Music Lesson by Victor Wooten

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