The Banjo Revival: Unleashing the Power of Béla Fleck and the Flecktones

The banjo doesn’t get much respect. Even here in the States, where it should feel at home, most people still associate it with Deliverance. That cartoonish riff that’s become a kind of shorthand for something backwoods and unsettling. I couldn’t even remember the name of the movie when I started writing this. I typed “the… banjo… movie?” into the search bar. Deliverance was fourth on the list. I sometimes confuse it with Desperado, which makes no sense, but there it is.

People are usually surprised to learn that many well-known musicians play the banjo. Dolly Parton, Pete Seeger, the Eagles, Mumford & Sons, Fleetwood Mac, Sufjan Stevens, and even Steve Martin. It’s a sound you can’t ignore, and yet most somehow seem to tune it out.

The banjo developed from instruments throughout West Africa. The instrument made its way through the Caribbean and evolved in the U.S., carried and shaped by African American musicians throughout the 1800s. These days, it’s mostly associated with bluegrass and country, but it shows up in more places than you’d expect—folk, rock, jazz. My first banjo was a gift from my ex-wife. It was a good little instrument, and I used it to explore different styles, clawhammer, three-finger bluegrass, even a little jazz. There was one musician who made me want to learn the banjo in the first place.

If you search for “banjo virtuoso who blends bluegrass, jazz, classical, and world music,” one name will keep coming up: Béla Fleck. He’s the one. The guy who redefined what the banjo could be.

As remarkable as Fleck is, his band—the Flecktones—might be even more impressive. Victor Wooten on bass, Roy “Future Man” Wooten on drums, and Howard Levy on harmonica and keys. Together, they created something that transcends genre. It’s not just fusion—it’s something else entirely. Their music is intricate, rhythmic, improvisational, and still emotional. Whether they’re playing a slow ballad or a fast bluegrass tune, the musicianship is undeniable.

I can’t remember how I first came across Béla Fleck and the Flecktones. I know the first song I heard was “Sinister Minister,” and after that, it was like banjo jazz fusion started falling from the sky. I was hooked. I started listening to “Stomping Grounds,” “Whitewater,” “The Message,” and Fleck’s collaborations with Abigail Washburn. The banjo doesn’t always blend easily with other instruments—it can feel like it’s sitting just outside the mix—but when it works, especially with percussion like djembe or bongos, there’s a kind of strange harmony to it; a symbiosis between sounds that aren’t supposed to fit.

Fleck’s career is full of collaborations: Chick Corea, Marcus Miller, Sam Bush, and Jerry Douglas. Each one adds something new to his already massive repertoire. He’s won more than a dozen Grammys across multiple genres, and he’s been pushing the boundaries of traditional music since the late ’70s.

Béla Fleck’s genius isn’t just technical. It’s creative. He’s fearless when it comes to genre, and that’s what makes his music so compelling. He’s shown that the banjo isn’t a joke, or a relic, or a regional novelty. It’s an instrument with range, depth, and soul. And for those of us who’ve been lucky enough to hear it played right, it’s unforgettable.