Nashville Notes . . .
Middle seat of the van, Thursday, February 25th, 5pm eastern time, heading east through southern Kentucky . . .
PF here, just checking in again with you folks. We’re currently headed through the Daniel Boone National Forest in the Kentucky hills, making our way to Whitesburg, Kentucky to play at Summit City Lounge. Hopefully we’ll see some old friends and make some new ones to boot.
When last I left ye, we were leaving Eureka Springs, dashing towards Memphis. Alas, the Memphis gig was a bust. It happens sometimes, it’s true, but it never fails to leave you feeling more than a little stupid. The booker for the club had assured us that the trivia night would be over by 9, and we’d be on by 10. Somehow, the words “over by” and starting at” must have gotten mixed up in his head – in other words, we roll in a little before 9, and the trivia night is just starting. Now, far be it from ME to perhaps assume that an audience would be interested in a little background music while they do trivia, but apparently the mental rigors required to match a beer brand with it’s slogan are too much for any outside distraction. So, not to be deterred, we headed into downtown Memphis, loaded up on BBQ and headed for Nashville, our planned late night destination. Sorry Memphis, we’ll try again soon, we promise . . .
Wednesday, February 24th (my birthday): Nashville TN:
We were staying with a friend of Graham’s – James – who is a former Richmonder, a musician, and a great guy. He lives in the Belmont neighborhood of Nashville, on the southern end. It’s a sweet part of town, right next to Belmont College, an area of Nashville where we’d never before been.
I’ll pause right now to say that our experiences in Nashville, “Music City,” have been mixed, to say the least. On our first two visits to town, we played at a shitty little club called Cafe Coco, where you’re allowed to play on their stage and put up with the animosity of the wait staff and soundman in exchange for tips and, if you’re lucky, some applause. Since it’s open 24 hours, this place has posters in the bathrooms, alerting you that, if you should spend more than 5 minutes in there, they’ll call the cops on you. Apparently, there was a little problem with junkies shooting up and nodding off, while late night diners are just trying to pee. OK, so, not a great spot, not great gigs, basically, you leave there, knowing that Nashville neither wants nor needs you, especially if you’re not trying to play some pop-style of whatever genre you happen to play.
Our third trip to Nashville was a different story – the Independent Music World Series at 3rd and Lindsley, which, if you’ll remember, we won. That was nice. We got paid well (in giant novelty check form), and left feeling victorious. However, under that victory was, to me anyway, a strange bitter and confusing taste of having just been judged by industry professionals. How did they decide? What criteria is used to decide whether a band is bound for stardom or obscurity? Talent isn’t it, because after that show we headed to the strip of Nashville to celebrate and watched the horribly pitiful scene of a crazy good guitarist being forced to play classic rock standards for pass the hat – he played “Can’t You See,” by the Marshall Tucker Band THREE times in the 45 minutes we were in there, at the request of drunks at the bar. It was unnerving to see such ability squandered and unappreciated. Didn’t make professional musician seem like such a great job title. Anyway . . . about our FOURTH trip.
In the morning we were scheduled to be interviews on WSM – 650 AM. This involved a trip to Opryland, which is a bit like Dollyland. There’s something so incredible about these islands of commerce and schlock, shining in the distance with over the top architecture and false front feeling (not too dissimilar from Oral Roberts University, to be honest). Anyway, it is a big thing for us to get to be on WSM, as you might imagine. On top of the excitement of the interview and performance, we also got free valet parking! This van may never again get that service. The interview went off without a hitch, and I think we were both amusing and entertaining to the DJ, and hopefully the listening audience.
The actual gig was at the Loveless Cafe, outside of Nashville just a bit. A big barn, all set up for performance, or perhaps a square dance. We roll in for our soundcheck, and are greeted by the sound engineers and managers like we were actually expected and, more importantly, like they were happy to see us! Our liaison, Laurie, talked us through the night (live broadcast, scheduling an interview, food, drinks, our own luxury coach to relax in (!!!!), and how HAPPY she was that we were there). It was a great introduction.
Showtime came around, and we are on the bill with 4 other acts – Wil Kimbrough, the Vespers, Amber Digby, and Ashley Cleveland. We were second to last, a flattering place to be put, no doubt, but probably having to do with our level of intensity as much as anything else. The barn was full up with people, and our show hosts were Bill Cody and Eddie Stubbs, someone who had a huge influence upon my personal interest in bluegrass music, both as a musician with he Johnson Mountain boys and, more importantly as the host of Bluegrass Country on WAMU in the DC area, every day from 3-6pm when I was a kid. The acts before us were great, although certainly bent more towards the nostalgic and pretty side of music. We’ve heard about those sides of music, but never had much experience in that realm. Anyway, we got up and shook it around for 20 minutes, much to the delight of the crowd, and then also rejoined the stage at the end of the night for a superjam version of “Higher Ground,” an odd choice, we thought, but hey, we jus’ do as we’re told, all “yessir,” and “nossir!” It was, all around, a great experience, and I didn’t even mention the VIP room with booze and fried chicken, or the gift baskets we all got (posters, mugs, water bottles, biscuit mix, strawberry jam, boot socks), or that the Vietti Chili Cowgirl was there!
After the show, James took us to an old time jam in east Nashville, which was the perfect topper of the evening. We roll into the place (Matty’s, I think), and it’s a big room with lots of jams taking place. We chatted with some folks for a while, saw some old festival pals (of course), and then took up in the corner with a few guys from the Hogslop Stringband. It was a blast – these guys are all about North Georgia oldtime music, with the short bow fiddles, the wild bass runs on the guitar, and the ridiculous high pitched singing, a la Gid Tanner. Within a tune, we had a massive, three banjo, 6 fiddle jam taking place. These jams may not be the best for the clarity of music, but when you are in the middle of it, surrounded by all the melody, it is fairly uplifting, to say the least. Anyway, oldtime music and bars, you can imagine how the night ended, and how the morning felt.
So, in short, our fourth Nashville experience = #1 ace best super time!!
