Postcard from Nashville
A dispatch from my (humbling) recent visit to Music City USA (and cousin SMOTUS).
After talking and talking about someday checking out Nashville, Brian and I took my cousin Seth Masket’s year-long fellowship at Vanderbilt University as an excuse to finally book cheap flights for Memorial Day weekend.
We’d been enamored with the idea of visiting “Music City USA” for years, after getting hooked on the cheesy but addictive nighttime soap, Nashville, starring Connie Britton, Hayden Panettiere, Charles Esten, to name just a few. We had the idea that someday we’d play together at one of the Monday open mics at The Bluebird Cafe, a tiny haunt where many of the show’s singer-songwriters perform. We aspired to some (emotionally better-adjusted) version of life-long on-again-off-again love birds/musical collaborators Rayna Jaymes (Britton) and Deacon Claybourne (Esten).
You can see “Rayna” and “Deacon” performing at the Bluebird in this clip below—devastating Panattiere’s character “Juliette Barnes” by reigniting their musical duo (and possibly their romance), just after Deacon and Juliette have had a fling. Also in this clip, late singer-songwriter and frequent Eagles collaborator J.D. Souther (RIP), who played record executive “Watty White”:
We got to see a show at The Bluebird that Saturday night—three excellent singer-songwriters in the round: Jamie Kent, Michaela Anne, and Ben Mulwana. Since we were leaving Monday morning, the Monday night open mic was out, and after hearing those three, I realized it was probably for the best, because they—and all the other musicians we went to see over Memorial Day Weekend—were way out of our league.
In fact, it’s a good thing we took our trip to Nashville after our mid-May gig opening for our friend Seth Branitz at The Muse in Rosendale, NY. Otherwise, we might have felt too intimidated and chickened out.
***
We weren’t in our best form that night. We hadn’t performed publicly in years, and despite rehearsing nearly every day after work for about two months, we were pretty rusty—nervous, too, which only added to our rustiness. We’d had our songs pretty well memorized, but the nervousness factor made us feel like we needed to look at the sheet music. (I always feel that way.) But the lighting made it so the music was hidden by a shadow, and not being able to view it made us even more nervous.
We made a lot of mistakes that night—had to completely restart one song, and stopped in the middle of another when we realized we’d skipped a verse. Fortunately, it was a very forgiving crowd of mostly friends.
I will only share with you this 13-second clip of us performing a Rodney Crowell song called “You’ve Been On My Mind,” in which I feel like Brian and I are harmonizing nicely, and not fucking up:
Here’s Crowell’s version of that song:
Here’s Emmylou Harris’s version:
That evening was humbling, as was hearing so many great, very polished musicians in Nashville. Fortunately, though, those experiences didn’t make me want to give up. Instead, I want us to get better—rehearse more, and play out more, so we’re more at ease before a crowd. Do some local low-stakes open mics. Get comfortable being front and center, playing and singing in front of people again, like we used to.
***
The bar was set especially high on our first night, when we went to The Grand Ole Opry’s Friday night showcase, broadcast each week on the radio. There were eight acts, each performing three songs. They were all incredibly talented, but not all of them were our cup of tea, least of all the one who kept singing about Jesus, and the one who sang about chicks and cars and beer.
Our favorites were Tajmo, a collaboration between Taj Mahal and Keb’ Mo’; Ashely McBryde; veteran singer Connie Smith who debuted at the Opry back in 1965; and The Band Loula, making their Opry debut that night, and knocking us out with Logan Simmons Snelling’s deep alto vocals.
The next day we hit the National Museum of African American Music, which was incredible—so much to see and hear, and also just really cool digital installations that allowed you to make music mixes, and learn who was influenced by whom, and email yourself playlists through an electronic wristband provided at the door.
That night we went to The Bluebird. Then Sunday we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame, which was also incredible. It was cool to see a small exhibit about the career of Connie Smith, whom we’d seen Friday night at the Opry.
But even cooler, on a personal level, was seeing a whole room dedicated to Rosanne Cash (who, by the way, had once been married to Rodney Crowell). Here’s why it was so thrilling for me: the exhibit included the green leather jacket Rosanne’s father, Johnny Cash, had custom made for her, which she’d written about in her essay in Never Can Say Goodbye: Writers on Loving & Leaving NY, my second NYC anthology.
Next to the jacket, they had the section of the essay that she’d written about it. Except…instead of my book, they attributed it to a story she told at The Moth in 2018. It annoyed me a little—I’d commissioned that essay in a conversation I’d had with Rosanne, she wrote it specifically for my book, and I edited it. What’s more, the story had appeared in my book in 2014, four years before she told it at The Moth.
But more than annoyed I felt excited. I determined that I would send a copy of the book to the museum, and suggest they add it to the exhibit.
While at the Hall of Fame, we caught a 45-minute spotlight set by a young singer-songwriter named Jack Schneider, who Seth had heard before, and who we just loved.
That night we went to a bluegrass jam at an old dive bar called The Station Inn. The place was packed. What fun, and how inspiring to hear assorted musicians improvising together.
There was a little girl clogging along to some of the songs. She was amazing, and reminded me of Walton Goggins clogging with his mom during his SNL monologue.
***
Monday morning we were sad to leave. After wanting to go there for so long, we’d had a great visit to Nashville, thanks to cousin Seth, a great tour guide, and an even greater hang.
Now I’m busy planning some Oldster Magazine Live! events, at the upstate edition of which I’m going to bite the bullet and sing a couple of songs. (*Ducks*) I’ve got an accompanist on board, and I am going to rehearse my ass off…so I don’t choke like I did at The Muse in Rosendale.
I love this so much! More Sari and Brian music, please!!!
more music!! never too late to start again