Thursday 27 Sept. The purpose of my Nashville visit: Drive-By Truckers at the Mercy Lounge on Cannery Row. The Drive-By Truckers have many labels: neo-southern rock, alt-country, cowpunk, my favourite is psychobilly. I love them. It's the best kind of feel-good music, asserting a tough masculinity (of which I am deficient) that is achieved simply through highly lyrical narratives about getting cars out of ditches, or putting more lawmen in the ground "than Alabama puts cotton-seed". Not to mention the intertwining three guitars that lead the charge.
They're a heavy band. But their recent tour has been stripped back, following the departure of one guitarist. I liked it: with acoustic guitars their stories come across more potently, reflecting the style of earlier albums. And there's more space for pedal steel! The best part of this was that Spooner Oldham has joined the band. He's the legendary keyboardist, playing for Neil Young since Harvest, on a Dylan record or two, Steve Earle's latest album.. Incredible. You'll see him on "Heart of Gold" - Neil Young's Ryman Auditorium show. Spooner Oldham, and I stood a couple of metres from him. That's as close to Neil Young as I'll probably ever get.
So for the show they were seated, passing around a bottle of Jack Daniels, under the dim red lights, before a macabre animated background of the same vulture-swans that grace their album art. eg:
They finished with my favourite Truckers song, Zip City. That was perfect enough. But the encore was even better. They did two more from the new album, and using his infamous Gibson electric, Patterson Hood built up to a climax, passed his guitar to the roadie, stood up scowling, growling into the first row, launching into Springsteen's 'State Trooper'. Here's an image to aid description:
'State Trooper' is one of the best songs from my favourite Springsteen album 'Nebraska'. Now I had been on Greyhound buses for what adds up to days, long sleepless nights listening to 'Nebraska', and the Truckers' 'Southern Rock Opera' and watching the lights down the highway, waking up further from the Pacific. So to hear this awe-inspiring band play that very song was astounding in the most apt sense.
I walked back to the hostel, fast. Couldn't stand still. 1am. I had to catch a plane at 6, meaning I had to be up and out at 5. My German and Swedish pals were still awake, so we sat on the street outside talking 'til 2, when I went to bed. Luckily the odorous gentleman on the bunk above me started snoring at 4.30am, waking me up and forcing me out.
Dragging my ever-heavier suitcase through the dark street to the nearby hotel, (from where the airport shuttle departs), a police car passed, circled the block and stopped. I was asked for my passport, and once inspected was let on my way. Weird.
Nashville airport: we walked out on the tarmac, two people had to volunteer to sit at the back of the plane for take-off, the sun rose, we landed at JFK in New York at 10.30am.
DBT's in Nashville
