First, the music was obscured by history and now almost by the story behind it all.
Fiddler Smoke Dawson came to Tompkins Square honcho Josh Rosenthal’s attention as he was compiling the Live at Caffe Lena set. The compilation centered on a venue in Upstate New York, where Dawson called home for a bit—just not long enough to leave an easy trail to follow. His rendition of “Devil’s Dream,” a traditional fiddle tune, made it on to the collection and Rosenthal set to work, tracking the mysterious, mustachioed musician. The path wound up leading to the Pacific Northwest, after a stop in the Bay Area, a lover’s death, some bagpipe playing and a bout with cancer.
Tracking him down, though, has finally brought about a proper release for Fiddle, Dawson’s 1971 private press album. It’s the only long-playing artifact that’s been dug up. And likely the only one that exists.
Dawson, who skittered around the New York folk scene in its hey-day and performed alongside the Holy Modal Rounders’ Peter Stampfel, as well as the Byrds’ Clarence White, lets Fiddle and its 17 tracks offer a panorama of rural American music, replete with a healthy old-world influence. The disc’s a rough-hewn affair, and about a minute into the first track, “John Brown’s Dream,” the solo fiddling drops out long enough for a voice to speak: “Joe and I looked up another fiddler we’d heard earlier. And he’d died.” The music immediately picks up again after the question’s broached.
“I believe it’s Smoke saying that but I have no idea why,” Rosenthal writes in an email. “I asked him about it; he sort of shrugged. It’s neat that it’s in there.”
Regardless of the odd inclusion, the album insinuates well-worn compositions, like “Turkey in the Straw” and another version of “Devil’s Dream,” into adapted renderings of works like “Drowsy Maggie Reel.” Dawson’s facile delivery refuses to waver, with only a minute-long detour through some bagpiping thrown in for good measure.