The soundtrack of O Brother, Where Art Thou? wasn’t just a collection of songs; it was a cultural reset button for American music in the early 2000s. It catapulted bluegrass into the mainstream, transforming niche musicians into household names and sparking a nationwide love affair with old-time music. From gospel hymns to work chants, from folk ballads to bluesy laments, the O Brother, Where Art Thou? songs resonated deeply and widely. As we celebrate the twentieth anniversary of this remarkable success, and as a culmination of our Artist of the Month series, we delve into the lasting impact of O Brother and its subsequent tours, as shared by musicians who witnessed and benefited from its extraordinary reach.
Sierra Hull, a bluegrass prodigy who grew up idolizing Alison Krauss, recalls a time before O Brother when mainstream music charts and bluegrass seemed worlds apart. “I grew up in a little town…and there used to be a poster section at Walmart…pop stars like Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys…I was always convinced that one day I would find an Alison Krauss poster in there.” For Hull and many others within the bluegrass community, O Brother was a seismic shift. It elevated artists like Krauss, Dan Tyminski, and Ralph Stanley, already legends in their own right, to a level of broader public recognition previously unimaginable. Hull’s personal connection deepened when she joined the Cold Mountain tour, another soundtrack featuring Alison Krauss, allowing her to experience firsthand the amplified adoration for this genre. “I was 12, and it was really the first time for me to be out on tour, travel to so many different places, and play Red Rocks and the Beacon Theater in New York.” She fondly remembers watching audiences erupt for Ralph Stanley, a testament to the soundtrack’s power to introduce and endear traditional music to new listeners.
Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek emphasizes the serendipitous timing of O Brother‘s release for the burgeoning bluegrass scene. Nickel Creek, having just released their debut album produced by Alison Krauss, found themselves swept up in the wave of attention. “I remember reading a huge New York Times spread, and we were listed among the people on that scene. We were part of that conversation, despite not having been part of the soundtrack in any way.” Watkins credits the soundtrack with significantly boosting their career, providing “wind in our sails” and expanding their audience far beyond pre-O Brother expectations. She also highlights the genius of producer T Bone Burnett in curating the soundtrack’s artists, celebrating the depth and musicianship within the bluegrass community. Ralph Stanley’s rendition of “Oh Death” was a revelation for Watkins, leading her to explore shape-note singing and deepen her appreciation for the roots of this powerful vocal style. Her continued admiration for Dan Tyminski, marked by a steadfast refusal to leave his performances before “Man of Constant Sorrow,” underscores the enduring appeal of these iconic Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? songs.
Dave Wilson of Chatham County Line offers a humorous perspective from a band already embedded in the local bluegrass scene when O Brother hit theaters. Recalling a whiskey-fueled cinema experience, Wilson jokes, “‘Bluegrass has arrived!'” The film and soundtrack’s release felt like a pivotal moment, an unexpected advertisement for their chosen style of music. The change was palpable, with larger and more diverse crowds appearing at their gigs, eager to experience the music they’d discovered through the film. The constant requests for “Man of Constant Sorrow,” even from those who might only have seen the movie, highlighted the soundtrack’s pervasive cultural impact. Wilson praises the arrangements and the soundtrack’s authenticity, relieved that it avoided a “corny” or overly mainstream approach. Chris Thomas King’s blues track, a cover of Skip James’ “Hard Time Killing Floor,” is noted as a particularly powerful and genre-expanding moment on the album. The subsequent concert film, Down from the Mountain, further solidified the soundtrack’s influence within the folk music community, arguably exceeding even the movie’s initial impact.
Sam Amidon reflects on the potential for cultural gatekeeping within folk music circles but ultimately celebrates O Brother‘s accessibility and broad appeal. He acknowledges the protective instincts within the folk world but champions sharing and expanding the audience for traditional music. Having grown up immersed in many of the musical styles O Brother showcased, Amidon found it “beautiful to think about how many people all of a sudden were going to discover these field recordings and these great musicians.” He emphasizes the significance of O Brother in offering a nuanced and respectful portrayal of traditional music, contrasting it with previous, often cliché-ridden media representations. Before O Brother, the banjo might evoke Deliverance; after, it became associated with a rich tapestry of American musical heritage. Amidon recognizes the soundtrack’s inclusive nature, encompassing diverse styles beyond just bluegrass and blues, encompassing “singing games and banjo songs and all these different things,” creating a welcoming entry point to a wider Americana genre. While acknowledging later critiques of the Americana genre, he stresses the groundbreaking and positive impact of O Brother in its initial context.
Woody Platt of Steep Canyon Rangers connects the rise of his band with the O Brother phenomenon. Formed around the time of the movie’s release, Steep Canyon Rangers found themselves riding the wave of renewed interest in bluegrass. While already familiar with bluegrass and old-time music due to their North Carolina roots, the band experienced a tangible upswing in audience enthusiasm. Playing in college town bars, they sensed a growing excitement, though without a pre-O Brother baseline for comparison. Platt appreciated the film but was particularly captivated by the soundtrack, marveling at hearing artists he admired, like Ralph Stanley and Dan Tyminski, featured so prominently in a mainstream movie. He reflects on the fortunate timing for his band’s emergence, coinciding with a national surge of interest in their style of music. Platt emphasizes the organic and unexpected nature of O Brother‘s success, noting it “wasn’t marketed in any significant way. It just happened.”
Molly Tuttle, a younger generation bluegrass artist, shares a perspective of discovering O Brother as a child. She recalls being introduced to the movie by her father, a bluegrass teacher, and being immediately captivated by the music. For Tuttle, O Brother served as an introduction to many artists who would later become major influences, such as Gillian Welch and John Hartford. She emphasizes the soundtrack’s lasting impact on bluegrass popularity, noting the influx of new students her father received after the movie’s release. The Down from the Mountain documentary further broadened her musical horizons, introducing her to Emmylou Harris and Alison Krauss. Tuttle’s repertoire includes several Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? songs, including “I’ll Fly Away,” “Angel Band,” and a memorable performance of “Man of Constant Sorrow” with Dan Tyminski, highlighting the soundtrack’s continued relevance for contemporary bluegrass musicians.
Dom Flemons, who witnessed Ralph Stanley perform on the O Brother tour, provides a firsthand account of the soundtrack’s immediate impact. Seeing Stanley perform “Oh Death” in a packed high school auditorium cemented the power of these songs in a live setting. Flemons views O Brother as a “milestone album,” bridging generational gaps and introducing younger audiences to the music of the 1920s and 30s, just as many of the original masters of those styles were passing away. For Flemons, O Brother was a gateway to deeper exploration of early recordings from labels like RCA Victor and Columbia, sparking a personal musical journey. He praises the soundtrack’s structure, from the chain gang opening to “Big Rock Candy Mountain” and “You Are My Sunshine,” highlighting Chris Thomas King’s “Hard Time Killing Floor” as a key moment in reviving interest in Skip James. Flemons observed the organic resurgence of these songs at shows and festivals, often performed in arrangements echoing the O Brother recordings, noting the soundtrack’s profound and lasting influence on the folk and roots music scene, even before he himself became a professional musician.
In conclusion, the songs of O Brother, Where Art Thou? represent more than just a soundtrack. They embody a cultural moment that revitalized American roots music, broadened the audience for bluegrass and old-time sounds, and introduced a generation to the rich history of American folk traditions. The twentieth anniversary serves as a powerful reminder of the enduring legacy of these oh brother where art thou songs and their profound impact on musicians and music lovers alike.
