The Case for the “Plectrum-played” Banjo

Before I write a word, let me say this: I admit, I was at one time staunchly “PRO four-string banjo,” to the point of being jealous of (“why do they get all the banjo attention?”), and basically “against” the five-string. Because of that reputation, I may still come across as such in my writing, but I assure you, I am now firmly “pro-banjo.” Regardless of how many strings it happens to have (4, 5, 6, 7, what does it matter?)—or what kind of music is played on it—the unique banjo sound and look is the same.

Commercial success for one is a victory for us all; in light of all the pop-“music” junk we are constantly bombarded with today, we need to stick together in this battle for recognition/validation! I will always of course favor the instrument I grew up with and have dedicated my life to; the four-string is the rarest of the banjos, and needs the most help in finding new players (the underlying subject of this essay).

Anyway, this essay is aimed primarily at five-string banjoists, but it also pertains to those folks who are considering learning, and may not know the difference between the four and five string banjos (or that there is a difference), and to those who—like me—fear for the four-string banjo’s future. Let me assure you right up front that this is not a “mine is better than yours” argument; this is simply a “mine is very different from yours, and you should give it a try” argument. You may—or may not—like mine better once you’ve tried it! Who knows, you may have been meant to play the Jazz four-string—heck, for that matter, I may have been meant to play the Bluegrass five-string!

While the banjo as a whole has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity in recent years, it has been heavily tipped in favor of the five-string. Besides being the only kind of banjo the vast majority of folks even know exists (and admittedly the sound most are looking for in a banjo), the main reason for this is that Bluegrass is a much more popular and visible genre than Early Jazz, so much so that the mere mention of the word “banjo” automatically conjures up “settin’ on the back porch, just a-pickin’ and a-grinnin’” (how’s that for a stereotype? I hear it all the time). No living memories of Jazz Age/Prohibition high society, straw boaters, or Charleston dancing exist today!

Just watch PBSs Give Me the Banjo for proof of the difference; though the show purported to tell the “300-year history” of the banjo, there was hardly a word about the Jazz Age four-string! One important 20-year era, almost totally ignored; imagine how we felt about that! At this point, I would settle with someone saying “oh, you play the four-string banjo; how unusual!” (which I actually heard on my last gig, believe it or not!); in other words—in my dream world—the general public knows the difference, and has their preferences (and knows they have a choice in which one to learn to play).

I would be rich if I had a nickel for every time someone has automatically assumed that, because I play the banjo, I play Bluegrass, and asked me (with a fake nasally twang in their voice to boot—which I find fairly insulting, by the way) to play Duelin’ Banjos—something I’m literally not equipped to play properly. This wouldn’t be so bad if some didn’t follow it up with “oh, you’re not a real banjo player if you can’t play that!” And, I can count on one hand the times someone (outside of a banjo convention) has noticed that my banjo is somehow different, or known enough to ask me “four or five string?”

This disparity in popularity is distressing to me because I can easily imagine a time when the four-string banjo will just fade away entirely, relegated to museums (or worse yet, converted to five-strings, a pet peeve of mine). It already barely hangs on in an ever-shrinking “underground” music scene. Our once-popular banjo conventions are fading at an alarming rate along with the aging player population (basically those who—like me—came of age in the 50s-70s “Pizza Parlor Revival.” The founding 20s generation is of course long gone). It’s hard to get much traction with a four-string today; when someone walks into a music store and says they want to learn to play the “banjo,” which type do you think will be sold to them? I guess you can tell I still harbor a bit of resentment.

Here is the gist of my essay: One of the most likely candidates to learn the four-string is the person who already plays a banjo; the five-string player. Who knows, you may actually find you like it better! It is certainly different, which may appeal if you feel bored with Bluegrass or just want a new musical challenge. Again, this crossing-the-aisle argument applies to us four-stringers as well; some of us may be happier with the five-string! I myself have tried and failed—it was a no-go for me, mainly because I grew up immersed in four-string society and music—but I have friends who play both equally well. I would hate to lose any of my cohorts—we simply cannot afford to lose any more—but I imagine that’s where some have disappeared to, as the four-string fades and the five-string thrives; hobbyists enjoy company—pros enjoy money!

How the four-string banjo came about in the first place is instructive: The tenor—tuned in fifths—came along about 1910 or so, and was in large part a successful attempt to lure classical mandolinists (ironically, another very popular Bluegrass instrument today! This same “try it, you may like it” logic applies equally-well to the new generation of mandolin enthusiasts). Similarly, the plectrum banjo—tuned like a five-string with a low C fourth string, and played with a plectrum (thus the name)—was meant to give “classic” banjo players (five gut strings, played with bare fingers) some variety and a way to play strong, audible rhythm in the new “foxtrot” orchestras; some early method books even showed how to convert an instrument to four-string, and encouraged the player to learn both styles.

The “plectrum-played” banjos had (still do) certain advantages over the “finger-played” banjos (and vice-versa), and were a better fit for the popular music of the day; both the tenor and the plectrum came along just in time for the Jazz Age (and the rest as they say is history. . .albeit mostly forgotten).

In a twist of irony, it wasn’t the five-string that stole players away at the end of the Jazz Age; it was the guitar, which could now be heard thanks to electrical amplification. During the Depression, there was such a rush to switch to the less-expensive guitar that the four-string tenor and plectrum guitars were developed so newly-unemployed banjoists wouldn’t have to learn a new instrument to earn a living. Then Earl Scruggs came bursting into the banjo vacuum in the late 40s, and again as they say, the rest is history! Seemingly to rub salt into the open wound, the advances in banjo design from the Jazz Age—primarily to make the unamplified four-string louder for jazz bands—are what made the newly-improved five-string so ideal for Bluegrass.

In conclusion, my argument is three-fold: #1, maybe you would enjoy playing something different (learning new/different skills, and making your expensive instrument more versatile); #2, maybe the classic, ragtime, jazz, vaudeville, polka, and western swing music that the four-string banjo excels at would be a better fit for you (and again, give you new challenges); and #3, maybe you would enjoy being even more unique and rare as a banjo musician! I would never presume to “steal” you away from/to the “dark side”; my intent is simply to inform you that there is a significant difference between the two styles, and that you will “never know until you try.”

At any rate, we could certainly use your help! I assure you, you would be enthusiastically welcomed by our fading population, plus there is currently a glut of high-quality instruments available as players/collectors pass on (though you can certainly use your five-string banjo—imagine, two very different kinds of music from one instrument! We can’t do that, unless we figure out how to add a string!). The four-string can be just as cool and fun to play as the five-string! In all seriousness, shoot me an email if you’re ready to try it or if you’re just curious; I’d be delighted to help.