Held within Uncle Dave Macon’s recording career as a banjoist is the history and future of country music – as well as America. He’s been thought of as a connective link from nineteenth century minstrelsy and auld tyme music as performance to a twentieth century conception of music.
Macon played dances and toured during the earliest days of the recording industry, cutting records that predate anything from whoever one might figure as the father of country music. He performed at the Grand Ole Opry during its earliest days. And was, if nothing else, a showman of the highest caliber. Of course, using a variety of field songs, hollers and nascent blues from the folks he was around while growing up and rambling around, there’re more than a few instances of his work being sprinkled with language that just about everyone’s set to be offended by.
But that was his during his second life.
Macon first supported himself and his family as a transporter of goods. While riding a wagon, replete with four legged creature pulling it along, Macon was further exposed to folk musics of various peoples living throughout the south. So, when modern day listeners figure Macon as an avowed racist for songs like “Run N*****, Run,” it doesn’t make any sense. That composition was probably a well known and social acceptable, popular offering during the time Macon was kicking around, even as it’s most surely not today.
Whatever the case, Holy Warbles, one of the most unique and far reaching sites on these here interwebs, collected a smattering of Macon’s work with his band, Fruit Jar Drinkers. Naming that band has more importance than one might figure, though. This ensemble, in contrast to the Dixie Sacred Singers, performed secular music.
Today, that distinction doesn’t make a great deal of sense. But, again, those were different times with different audiences and different tastes. It’s surely antiquated, but that’s simply Macon function as a bridge between old an new.
If Macon’s song book wasn’t strong enough proof of his general import, though, his various sidemen are. Both Roy Acuff as well as Bill Monroe did time in his band, both function as pallbearers at the band leaders funeral.
Regardless of his end, Macon’s not been forgotten as his being included on the American Anthology of Folk Music attests to. His name doesn’t ring out as frequently some other folks, but based upon the accounts of his live performances, perhaps it should.

