Tangier Sound
words & music by Patrick Costello

Public Domain Release

Back in 1997, I had enough money to live out my dream and move to Maine. I was still young, strong, and healthy enough that cold weather didn’t phase me.

Then, my dad lost his job.

So, I made the hard decision to put my own goals aside. Even though I am one of the most camera-shy people to ever walk the earth, I had to step in front of the camera and start teaching music. I did the instruction and technical work while dad managed the books and drank coffee. It wasn’t perfect, but he was happy. I loved him more than anything, so I tried to find a way to stay content.

We taught a lot of people. We also pissed off the entire banjo subculture.

Now, when I say pissed off, I’m understating things. We were so hated that a certain banjo manufacturer in Florida actually sent a sales rep out to music stores telling shop owners not to stock my first book, The How and the Tao of Old-Time Banjo.

Still, we managed to introduce a massive number of people to the joys of homemade music, despite the noise and screaming from online idiots. I never had a single detractor who could outplay me – something I find hilarious given my handicaps and the simplicity of the banjo. People were happy, dad was happy, and that was enough. To be honest, the Irish in me did occasionally have fun playing the heel.

Now it is 2024. Dad died in January. A year after our home burned down and two years after the death of my mother. My wife died in 2018. Working to keep other people happy was fulfilling, but it never made me any money. I never drew a single paycheck in all of those years. Dad didn’t do a very good job of managing the books, leaving me with nothing. It is what it is.

I would fall back on my old dream and move to Maine, but CTE from car accidents and training injuries from my days in the martial arts make the cold intolerable nowadays. I have to, somehow, find a new place to call home. Hopefully someplace warm.

With the internet changing, and the banjo scene turning into a mob of proudly musically illiterate clowns, continuing to teach would be both masochistic and futile. I can’t even afford to replace my hearing aids.

I deleted a large portion of our archives, but the files are still out there in different places. Don’t judge me when it comes to erasing parts of my past. When you lose as much as I have, people asking about workshops from twenty years ago only brings pain. Nostalgia would require some form of public acceptance.

I debated weeding through the web and taking the rest down. Part of me would very much like to be forgotten. The thing is, my father and I, despite our flaws and what people might say about us, did some good work.

It wasn’t always fun, but, when it was good, me and my old man had some laughs.

So, in memory of my family, and for the love of the craft, I am releasing our work to the public domain. The folk process trained me and sustained me. I might as well trust it one more time as hearing loss and arthritis erode my chops.

I love you all more than chocolate. Thank you for helping me have one hell of a long adventure with my dear old dad. Thank you for introducing me to the woman I married. Thank you for allowing me to share my craft.

Patrick Costello
Marion Station, Maryland
12/18/2024

Public Domain Dedication of Music Instruction Materials

I, Joseph Patrick Costello, III, hereby dedicate to the public domain all copyrights and related rights in my entire collection of music instruction materials created between 1997 and 2024. This includes, but is not limited to, all music instruction books, video recordings, audio files, sheet music, and accompanying materials created by myself and my late father.

This dedication applies worldwide and is made for the benefit of the public at large and to the detriment of my heirs and successors. I intend this dedication to be an overt act of relinquishment in perpetuity of all present and future rights to these works under copyright law.

I am the sole copyright owner of all these materials and have the right to make this dedication. These works are not burdened by any obligations to any third party that would prevent me from making this dedication.

This dedication is made under the applicable copyright laws of the United States and any other relevant jurisdictions.

Joseph Patrick Costello, III 12/18/2024

Update: July 31

When Dad got hurt last year, he was still reeling from both Mom’s death and the loss of our home to a fire. As the two of us tried to plan things out from his room in the nursing home, age and grief led Dad into making some bad decisions.

After he passed early this year, I discovered my finances were in worse shape than I had feared. I had pooled my life’s savings with Dad so we could buy a new house. Unfortunately, he was bedridden and out of his head before I could get my name on the account.

The fire insurance on the house and my dad’s life insurance did not pay out. Thirty years of payments, and both companies left us with no way to rebuild. It’s actually kind of comical in a sad sort of way. The people Dad introduced into the mix to help me ended up stealing everything that was not nailed down. Even the charred contents of the house at 6 Potomac were stolen.

Now things have progressed to the point where my cash reserves have dried up. While there is money out there, I have no way to access it or any help sorting through the mess.

I had hoped to rebuild the business online. That won’t happen now, as I will lose internet access in the next few weeks. I am unsure how long I can stay in my current location.

I don’t know what happens next, but being forced offline means I’ll have to face it on my own. With the electric banjo fixed and the new amp, I thought about recording. There just isn’t any way to fund the project.

People will tell me to pass the hat or beg for money some other way. That would be humiliating and a wasted effort. Everybody out there is hurting in some way.

I do take a bit of cold comfort from the fact that, despite failing in every possible way, there will never be a banjo player or teacher like me. My father and I did the impossible. Nobody ever respected us, but nobody could outplay me. The entire online “banjo community” made my life hell, but the best they had could never match my skills. Not bad for a deaf guy.

Unless things change, this will be my last update.

You can’t help. So, don’t fret. Even the lilies of the field only thrive in their season.

Take care of yourselves.

-Patrick

Update: July 24

The electric is back in action!

A friend took my solid-body electric five-string banjo into the shop. The neck was damaged around the fifth string peg. That, and it had taken a lot of smoke and water damage in the fire. It was still sooty when it went into the shop.

According to my friend, the repair tech was more than a little perplexed by my unusual hybrid banjo. He shared some of the comments, and we had a good laugh.

It came back on Sunday, and I am amazed. The instrument had issues before the fire, and was something of a basket case afterwards. Now, it plays smooth as butter and the tone is clear enough I can play easily without my hearing aids.

Running through the Quilter Aviator Cub UK, the electric banjo chimes, roars, and screams. I would love to get my hands on a multi effects stompbox, but, for now, going old-school straight into the amp has my mojo working.

I’m not sure what I am going to do with the electric. Things here are falling apart financially. I have to figure out where to live and how to keep myself fed. At least now I have tools I can use to rebuild.

Update: July 9

I found my old theremin essays: https://dobrolibre.medium.com/

I actually tried to save both of my theremins when the house burned down, but they both were lost with everything else. Now that my hearing is just about completely gone and Johns Hopkins is just a Baltimore whorehouse where you get screwed instead of healed, the theremin is, like birdsong and conversation, lost to me. It was fun while it lasted.