Kirby Rambin

article by Vanelis Rivera | photography by Andrew Bailey

In the midst of guitar wielding, drum stick-laden, bass picking, piano playing, and horn blowing musicians in any given local performance, it’s easy to spot the six foot, curly-haired player with a fiddle resting on his left collar bone while his right hand gently clasps a bow. According to Kirby Rambin, his interest in the instrument surprisingly originated with the Disney channel. As a child, he was able to access the network on a free preview weekend. He was drawn to a showing of the Youth Symphony Orchestra performing at the Hollywood Bowl. “They were interviewing those kids about how they practice, and when they practice, you know. I started thinking to myself, I can do that,” Kirby recalls. That led to him asking for a violin for Christmas when he was nine, and though his mother looked at him like he was “a little crazy,” that was the beginning of his journey as a fiddler.

A couple of years after Santa Claus brought Kirby his first violin, he began taking lessons from Ildiko Lusk who plays for the Monroe Symphony Orchestra. “She’s the one who taught me how to love music, and all music, you know.” By the eighth grade, he was playing in orchestras and kept at it throughout high school, which led to him landing a spot in the all-state orchestra during his last two years of high school. “That opened my eyes to what was out there,” he says. He still remembers his first solo performance. His aunt’s wedding reception was at Enoch’s Pub and Grill, and at 12 years old he dished out a few Cajun tunes in front of family and friends. While he remembers playing “horribly,” he also recalls the audience being receptive and supportive. Being asked to play at pep rallies also helped him grow confidence, and with the added encouragement from his mother and grandmother, he kept consistently practicing the instrument. “ I was kind of a troublesome child and my mom would use that as leverage to get me to do what I needed in school,” he laughs. “I guess [the fiddle] meant more to me than I realized at the time. But when you’re an angsty teenager, you don’t want to admit that you care about something.”

When Kirby hit a rough spot in his young life he quit playing and practicing his instrument. At that point, he had moved to Tampa and wasn’t planning on playing any music while he was there. But, on one fortuitous night, he ran into a drummer at a karaoke bar who noticed his violin case and encouraged him to attend a blues jam at the Green Iguana Bar & Grill. There, he was  able to meet a guy who used to play with Sammy Davis Jr. and Big Brother and the Holding Company, “and every player that came up there to play was in the backing band of all these big stars.” That’s the kind of boost he needed. Instantly, he was once again bonded to his craft. It reminded him of what his high school art teacher had once told him—“Art is not your thing, but you’re a creative person, and creative people have to create and if you don’t, it will make you sick.” He has come back to that mantra at different times in his life, and ultimately credits his stint in Tampa with harnessing his performance skills. “That’s when I really started getting into what I’m doing now. Playing off the page, you know.” 

“I still don’t really think I know what I’m doing, but also you don’t know what you don’t know, and so I didn’t know enough to know that I should have been intimidated and nervous about playing with these guys out there in Tampa,” says Kirby. By the time that he returned to Louisiana, he had a wealth of knowledge and appreciation that allowed him to be more susceptible to growing his skills. So, while living in Baton Rouge he got exposed to Cajun music, which he put to the test once more on the Enoch’s stage when he returned home. He started playing with the likes of Billy Hicks and Jame Earl Simpson. Soon he was getting called by fellow musicians to join their shows. “Which was nice in my hometown. You know, it doesn’t happen often,” he notes. 

Kirby further cemented his skills by playing with local singer/songwriter Brian Sivils, which increased his gigs  to between thirty and forty a month. Noticing his calendar filling, he made the decision to go full-time. “I resolved myself, I was going to be a musician.” The struggle was real, as he had to diminish his meals, at times opting to eat one big meal a day instead of three smaller ones. When he finally got out of that hole, he landed a consistent “church gig,” spread out his performances in bars and restaurants, joined a few local bands on stage, and recently has become a member of Dead Reckoning String Band, spearheaded by Ira S. Barger. “I really enjoy being a full-time musician!”

Kirby maintains that despite his over two decades of practice, the violin or fiddle (if using the more colloquial term) is a complex instrument to master. “I always tell my students, you can’t really learn how to play the fiddle until you’ve played it for a couple of years,” he says, mentioning the many foundational aspects of the stringed instrument that can’t be partially undertaken. “She’s a cruel mistress, the violin,” remarks Kirby, though admittedly his years of experience have allowed him to feel at home with the temperamental musical tool, in spite of at times losing the bow mid-performance or slipping into a rough sound. “It takes a gentle touch,” and it is also incredibly physically demanding because it entails constant whole-body movement that needs to be done in a relaxed manner. Kirby has experienced cramps and even carpal tunnel. “Even if you just have tension in your heart, it will come for you in the sounds you’re making because it is such a direct connection to your body,” he says, adding, “A lot of people don’t realize what a delicate thing it is.” Even playing the same song over again can take on subconsciously derived nuances merely based on what he may be thinking or feeling at the time. “You gotta be at peace with yourself,” he warns. “It’s a tricky thing to balance all that stuff, you know?”

Considered one of the oldest and most basic instruments of roots music, for years it was the only instrument found on the frontier, and in the south was used to such an extent that accounts of fiddle contests exist as early as 1736. Though many fiddle tunes and styles arrived from Ireland and Scotland, during the 19th century there arose a considerable fiddle tradition among black communities. Blues composer WC Handy recalls his grandfather who hailed from northern Alabama playing fiddle tunes during the late 1800s. Fiddle blues eventually developed strongly and carried through into the 1930s. Most of Kirby’s style sticks to this tradition; in fact, one of the first songs that he downloaded from Napster, the file-sharing platform of the early 2000s, was “Louisiana Blues” by Muddy Waters. “It’s the same song that Jimi Hendrix got the ‘Voodoo Child’ lick from,” he adds. Already having a strong foundation of rock heroes like Fleetwood Mac, Bad Company, Black Sabbath, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, his introduction to Delta blues served to further enrich and focus his fiddle-playing.

“To this day, I have yet to really have a chance to sit down and hang out with other fiddle players.” He says this almost making a commentary about the need to increase the instrument’s popularity. As one of the few publicly playing fiddle musicians in the area, he has always thought of himself as a “musical spackle” where he just fills in the holes in between lyrics, solos, and verses. “I’ll just put little one or two measure licks in there just to kind of fill it out.” He considers his role on stage with other musicians is akin to icing on a cake. The reception he has gotten from fellow players and the audience alike is that they enjoy his approach because he doesn’t take away from the main melody. He elevates what already exists with just a little bit extra from his four-stringed instrument. “You’re either adding to the picture or you’re taking away from it.” 

Usually, when people go out to see music they expect to see someone with an acoustic guitar, so it may be jarring to see a much smaller instrument before them. But, Kirby believes there are many different ways to play the wide array of music that is out there. “That’s what we do in Louisiana. We take what we got, and we try to do what we need to with that,” he asserts. In other words, this noteworthy player is taking an uncommon sound and bringing to local stages an opportunity to stop for a second, tune into a moment, and just listen.

Follow Kirby Rambin’s music page on Facebook, as well as the Dead Reckoning String Band to find out more about their next curb-side free concerts.