Press article

Red Star Express
Bluegrass & old-time music

Bluegrass sprouting from northern roots: Red Star Express finds its way....

March 17, 2002 Story by Mary Ann Holley of The Sheboygan Press
Photos by Gary C. Klein of The Sheboygan Press. Copyright 2002.
Reprinted here with permission.

More local stories can be found at http://www.wisinfo.com/sheboyganpress/index.shtml

Tucked within the terrain just past the Pack'er Inn, in what seems like the middle of nowhere, the sounds of a thumping bass, a six-string banjo and the sweet melodies of a 200-year-old fiddle transcend frost on the windows and snow banked along the roads. In the mind's eye, the hillsides of Newton become the Bluegrass Mountains and the frozen marshlands along the roadsides just naturally become bayous. Every Wednesday night, the Red Star Express, a bunch of Wisconsin hillbillies-at-heart, haul their mandolin and guitar cases through the side door of Gerry Jost's barn - a respite for a group magnetized by love of bluegrass music.

Wine barrels serve as coffee tables, an antique sofa provides a resting spot for Mike Bittner's guitar case and giant moose antlers tower over the room as the band plays on until the wee hours of the morning. "I've been attracted to bluegrass since college," said Jost, the band's founder who primarily plays the mandolin, but also chips in with fiddle tunes, the dobro and harmonica. "It's the driving force."

Band member John Losiniecki agrees. "It's the energy, the combination of stringed instruments," adds Losiniecki, who plays the 200- year-old fiddle once owned by bluegrass great Vassar Clements and by day teaches in Milwaukee. "It's music that's straight to the point."

Horses live in the other side of the barn, beyond a room with barn wood panels that is once a week turned into an old-time music palace for seven country boys and a girl who live in the part of the world where the Beer Barrel Polka is almost an anthem. "We don't have any trouble with waking the neighbors," Losiniecki says, "Just the horse kicks once in a while."

Their fingers, rough and callused, make for easy picking of the variety of old-time instruments they're always eager to share. Bittner, a quiet fellow with a long red beard, picks up his guitar. Pearce grabs hold of the bass fiddle. Jost's wide handlebar mustache drapes over his harmonica as he blows, the others join in and within minutes their gathering becomes what amounts to bluegrass surround-sound. "We found each other," said Kate, explaining how the group of pickers and thumpers formed the band. First it was Jost and Bittner. Then, Jost, owner of R.P. Jost Co., plumbing, heating and electrical work in Cleveland, found Pearce while at her house doing repairs. He saw her guitar and asked her to come out and play. Others learned through word-of-mouth. "We're around," Jost jokes. "We're like a cult."

Pearce plunks at the fiddle, belting out an occasional "yee-haw," as the boys play along to music that they've written themselves - a gentle tune like "Marie" that Jost wrote for his grandmother - or old favorites like "Jambalaya."

They trade their northern accents for squeaky drawls, singing sweet ballads and toe-tapping tunes. The Red Star Express, a self-taught group of gentle men and spirited musicians, bring bluegrass music and Cajun crooning to life. "We just like to share our music," says Jost of the group whose members found each other by chance or by choice. Some members have come and gone, but, Pearce adds, the "really happy ones stayed."

Going on its 10th year, the band's bluegrass concept is simple: "Every week we just show up and play,"' says Pearce, a meat specialist with a local manufacturer that designs computer software for the meat industry. In 1998, they were the official band for the Wisconsin Sesquicentennial Wagon Train. "We don't make a lot of money, and what we do we put back into our instruments," said vocalist Eldon Klein, a retired Two Rivers police officer. "You do it because you love the music."

But Bluegrass is social music, so the group plays professional gigs whenever they can, and when they can't they're volunteering their time playing at local nursing homes and sometimes church services. "We like an audience," Pearce said, "and they like our music."