The Good,
the Bad, and the Ugly. Well, perhaps not
quite. But this last instalment about Nashville covers some different angles.
Let’s start
by talking about the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Opened in 2001 at a cost of something like
$31m, it’s a damn large exhibition space. It starts off with the kind of chronological
approach you might expect, and is hugely interesting on the origins of country
music, with film footage here and there of hillbilly porch scenes of fiddle
playing, clog dancing, and poverty. As
the tour progresses there are exhibits that illustrate the kind of tacky
accoutrements favoured by the country superstars of yesteryear – cars
customised with bling, suits of the most beyond-ersatz cowboy variety. But still unfashionably endearing.
Eccentric country music instruments! |
Then there
are the segments that illustrate certain periods or movements in the
development of country music, and this is where things start to get interesting
– and tricky. The country music scene in
the mid-50s became synonymous with the ‘Nashville Sound’ – a stickily sweet
approach epitomised by the ghastly Jim Reeves. This became the mainstream to
the extent that the money men from the record labels apparently resisted
artists attempting anything different. Trouble
is, a norm that’s imposed will inevitably attract detractors and rebels – and
hence the ‘Bakersfield Sound’. Drawing
on influences from beyond Nashville, it evidently roughened things up and
produced something grittier, taking country music in a new direction. It was also something of a precursor to the
“outlaw country” movement that crystallised around the likes of Waylon Jennings
and Willie Nelson in the early 70s, continuing the development of country in
less kitsch directions.
Trouble is,
a later generation of artists and producers proved themselves adept at assimilating
all these influences and dragging them back to a more commercial country
mainstream. And the later elements of
the Country Music Museum experience dwell on the moneyed spectacle of ‘arena
country’, á la Garth Brooks et al. By
the time you get to the end, it smells of money, not heart.
Contrast
the compact Johnny Cash Museum on 3rd Avenue South. Compact, stylish and focused, it illustrates country's connections to rock'n'roll
The AT&T Tower - aka the Batman Building |
Our last evening
took in a visit to the Station Inn, where we’d hoped to catch some bluegrass
the previous evening. Situated away from
Broadway, it’s essentially a spartan concrete block in the middle of not very
much. On this particular evening there
was no bluegrass though. Instead it played
host to three singer-songwriters armed with acoustic guitars, alternating songs
between them to a reasonable audience – which unfortunately included a table
full of drunks who seemed to have no interest in the music. Mind you, the music itself wasn’t that
inspiring. What we had here was a
platform for writers to try out their wares, songs that they hoped to sell to
major recording artists – Nashville’s Music Row being the country equivalent of
Tin Pan Alley. Sadly, the fare on offer
this evening wasn’t enough to overcome the background noise of the boozers.
Still, it
was another part of the Nashville experience.
Next stop – Memphis!
For earlier
episodes, see: Adventures in theSouth – Prologue
Or carry on all the way to Memphis, here!
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