Jimmy Martin King of Bluegrass

“I started walking down the road, guitar on my back, thumbing me a ride. Stopped by my Grandad Martin’s and borrowed ten dollars off him to go to Morristown, TN and get me a job in factory. Then I got fired on the job for singing too much and everybody said I couldn’t sing. So I went down to the Grand Ole Opry and met Bill Monroe and sung a couple songs with him. And he hired me. Then I went back to Morristown, TN and thanked the man for firing me and told him he could listen in on Saturday night and hear me on the Grand Ole Opry with Bill Monroe.”

-Jimmy Martin, from King of Bluegrass: The Life and Times of Jimmy Martin

This story sums up the Jimmy Martin that we all knew and loved—fearless, driven, and irascible. He was the closest thing that bluegrass music has ever had to a rebel figure. And like rock icons Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard, Jimmy’s rabble rousing was not by design, but simply a personality trait that for better or worse, he could not shake. I once asked Jimmy why he didn’t occasionally just keep his thoughts to himself. He stared at me, seemingly confused and said, “Well, I kindly figure if I’m thinking it, I might as well just come on out and say it.” It was this refreshing, honest style that drew so many to him and his music and was certainly what inspired me to make the film King of Bluegrass: The Life and Times of Jimmy Martin.

And while Jimmy’s brash behavior was always first to grab headlines, it is his music that mattered most. As we started filming the documentary, I learned there was much more to Jimmy than his defiant behavior. As Marty Stuart said in the film, Jimmy was “a stone cold musical genius.” Backstage, when he rehearsed his band, I witnessed a man tuned into the slightest musical subtlety. Jimmy never talked of hot licks or fast chops. Rather, it was always about the abstract elements that separate great music from good music - timing, tempo, tone, and dynamics. He was simply able to hear nuances that most do not. Combine this gifted ear with a soulful voice, that was as much country as it was bluegrass, and a fierce, driving rhythm guitar, and you have a true stylist who helped transform bluegrass music.

Those who were close to Jimmy knew that behind the brash attitude and musical genius was a man who could be as gentle as a lamb. The last time I was with Jimmy, at a bluegrass festival in southern Indiana, I witnessed a rare glimpse of gentle Jimmy. We were sitting in his tour bus, and as we talked, I was struck by how much he’d aged since I saw him a few months before. He was lying down, his hat off, with little tufts of hair pointing in all directions. He was clearly very tired and sick. As we sat there, I noticed my seven year-old niece walk by. Eliza is a shy, angelic girl who loved Jimmy Martin. She still has Jimmy posters, photos, and a t-shirt tacked to her wall above her bed. I told Jimmy I knew he was tired, but wondered if I could invite Eliza on the bus to meet him. He nodded and said, “Sure George, kindly have her come on in.” I opened the door and called Eliza over. She timidly walked up to the bus as I asked her if she wanted to come on in and say hi to Jimmy. She then climbed the stairs, walked straight toward Jimmy and simultaneously, as if they were old friends, both opened their arms and embraced. He said “It’s good to see you.” And she said the same. Jimmy looked her in the eyes, rubbed her head and she left with a big smile on her face. It was the most peaceful moment I witnessed in six years of spending a lot of time with Jimmy Martin. So, when the dust settles, I hope Jimmy Martin will be remembered as a musical genius, a transitional figure in bluegrass music, and good man with a big heart.

George Goehl