Pete's Pantheon: Martin Carthy, Discovering the Funk Deep in the Soul of British Folk Music.

If Martin Carthy's music never existed, I'm convinced that I would be haunted by a feeling that the world was missing something. His playing seems like a fundamental part of the Universe, like gravity.

Who is Martin Carthy? Only the guy who taught Paul Simon to play "Scarborough Fair".  The guy whom Bob Dylan tapped for his knowledge of British Ballads. The guy from whom Johnny Marr said he cribbed guitar lines,  merely speeding them up. Michael Hedges and Pierre Bensusan have praised him and worked elements of his playing into their approaches.

Carthy has an uncanny ability to carve away everything inessential from a song. His sense of time is exquisite. He plays the silences as well as the notes. His brilliant and bold use of dissonance and modal scales, combined with his unique percussive guitar transfixed me since I first heard him in the late 1970's. Somehow Carthy discovered the funk deep in the soul of British Folk Music.

He applies the same ruthless genius to his accompaniments for other musicians, creating lines that interact and enhance others melodies with subtle invention. He builds in tension and releases it at the last instant, infusing drama where so many others can't even imagine it.

In addition to his playing and singing, he has been a collector and restorer of damaged or fragmented songs. With the fine eye of a diamond carver, he will fit a husk of an old song with a new tune, add carefully chosen words, and bring it alive, widening the repertoire.

I've learned over time that some people just don't get Martin Carthy and are happy to do without his music. I could do that. Right before I give up breathing.

Petes Pantheon: The Rugged Joy of Allen Toussaint

When Allen Toussaint performs, it seems that all of American popular music has floated down the Missisippi to his hometown of New Orleans and fetched up in his piano. Jazz and RnB flow elegantly into the songs of Paul Simon and Steve Goodman. As a singer, songwriter and producer, his creative powers have fueled the recordings of everyone from Irma Thomas to the Rolling Stones. The man wrote "Working in a Coal Mine" and arranged many of the horn parts for the Band's Last Waltz . His graceful piano playing seems effortless, steeped in local tradition, and tinged with a rugged joy. His quiet stage presence will disarm you right before the funk grips you and the indestructible music of New Orleans knocks the rust right off your soul.