I decided I wanted to play the banjo. I don’t remember exactly when or why—probably ADHD brain latching onto a new shiny thing—but at some point the thought “I should learn banjo” lodged itself in my head and wouldn’t leave.

This is how most of my hobbies start. The instrument comes before the music. I wanted to play banjo before I really listened to banjo music, which in retrospect is a weird way to approach things, but here we are.

The Journey In

My first stop was Mumford & Sons, because that’s where everyone starts. Mainstream banjo. Banjo-adjacent. The kind of music where there’s definitely a banjo in there somewhere but it’s mixed in with everything else and you’re mostly just stomping your foot and feeling vaguely folky.

From there I branched out to other contemporary folk-ish bands, still circling around the banjo without really landing on it. It was fine. It was nice. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I didn’t know what I was looking for yet.

Then my friend Jon Ruth introduced me to clawhammer banjo and old timey music. This was a revelation. Clawhammer is a different technique than the three-finger picking you hear in bluegrass—it’s older, earthier, and sounds like it’s coming from a farmhouse in 1890. Jon opened up this whole world of Appalachian music I didn’t know existed, and suddenly I understood that “banjo music” wasn’t one thing. It was a whole universe.

Around the same time, I discovered that Steve Martin—yes, that Steve Martin, the comedian—plays the banjo. Not as a bit. Not ironically. The man is genuinely, seriously good. His work with the Steep Canyon Rangers is the real deal, and his album with Edie Brickell is beautiful. Here was someone I already knew and loved doing something I wanted to learn, and doing it at a level that made me want to be better.

I listened to a lot of Steve Martin banjo. Sarah, bless her, listened along with me.

Enter The Cleverlys

Then my business partner Steve told me about The Cleverlys.

The Cleverlys are a bluegrass comedy band, which sounds like it shouldn’t work. Comedy bands are usually more comedy than band—you laugh at the joke and then you don’t need to hear the song again. But The Cleverlys are genuinely talented musicians who happen to also be very funny. They do bluegrass covers of pop songs, they have original stuff, and they perform in character as a family band from the Ozarks.

Here’s the thing: you go for the comedy and you stay for the musicianship.

Their cover work is ridiculous in the best way. They’ll take a song you know—something from the radio, something from the 80s, whatever—and play it straight bluegrass. And it works. It’s funny because of the juxtaposition, but it’s also genuinely good because these guys can play.

My personal favorites are “Wait a Minute” and “Girl in the Sky.” The former is hilarious, the latter is legitimately moving. That range is what makes them special.

Why Bluegrass Deserves Your Attention

Bluegrass has a reputation problem. People think it’s old people music, or country music’s weird cousin, or something you only hear at Renaissance faires for some reason. And yeah, it can be those things. But it can also be virtuosic, energetic, emotionally complex, and genuinely fun.

The thing about bluegrass is that it’s music made by people who are really, really good at their instruments. The banjo, the mandolin, the fiddle, the upright bass—these aren’t easy. Watching a good bluegrass band is like watching athletes. There’s a physicality to it, a skill level that’s undeniable even if the genre isn’t your thing.

The Cleverlys are a good entry point because they lower the barrier. You don’t need to know anything about bluegrass to laugh at a bluegrass cover of “Wagon Wheel” played at breakneck speed by guys in overalls. But once you’re laughing, you might notice that the mandolin player is doing something incredible. And then you might start listening to more bluegrass. And then you might find yourself at 2am watching Steep Canyon Rangers videos and thinking “I should practice more.”

The Banjo Update

I’m still learning. “Learning” is generous—I mostly make noise. But I make noise regularly, Sarah doesn’t mind when I practice, and sometimes the noise sounds almost like music. Progress.

The banjo is hard. Harder than the ukulele, which I also play. But there’s something about the sound of it that keeps me coming back. It’s such a specific, joyful noise. Even bad banjo sounds kind of fun.

If you’ve never given bluegrass a real shot, start with The Cleverlys. Laugh first. Then stick around for the music. You might surprise yourself.

Go listen to “Wait A Minute” by The Cleverlys. You’re welcome.