Nashville is a city that is made of full-on energy, non-stop.
I’d been to Nashville more than a few times for work, but rarely got to see much of it. This time, I was so immersed in having fun, my time there felt like a fever dream.
I’m hardly a contemporary country music stan, and neither is Moon– but we like some of the older-school acts. And we enjoyed the Ken Burns documentary piecing together the history of the genre– so going temple of country music seemed like a way to learn a little bit more about the scene, which is a big part of the pride of Nashville.
Lucky for us, there was a tour of the Grand Ole Opry that seemed well-suited to our interests– Women in Country Music.
At the Grand Old hour of 9 AM, we entered and were immediately given mimosas and petit fours. A greeting that frankly, made us think of Shania’s famous line: “Let’s go girls!”. In a small theater backstage, we were showed a video about the Opry with Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood as hosts, that was extremely compelling– laying out the history of the original Ryman Theater, and what the Opry meant to country music and its evolution over time.
Regardless of whether one was a casual or rabid fan, the video made it clear how special a performance at the Opry could be for either an up-and-coming riser or a famous star. The raw emotion that each performer in the montage expressed drew us in, and gave us a strong sense of the significance of the place. (Which was a contrast to the Corvette Museum, which was clearly only tailored to the biggest fans of the car brand).
One quaint thing about the Opry was the mailboxes (pictured above) in the front entryway of the building– apparently, any person, anywhere in the country can send their favorite stars mail and it will be kept for that artist at the theater. Even if letters are not addressed entirely properly, like letters to Santa Claus, they somehow end up in the right place. Some boxes were fuller than others– notably, Dolly Parton’s mailbox was jam-packed.
The tour guide clearly presented the Opry as one big “family”– a turn of phrase that can generally raise the hairs on the back of my neck, as it tends to imply 1. levels of affection and support that could not possibly be real in an organization, and 2. tight-knit homogeny that could keep out people considered ‘other’ or outsider.
I set aside some of my natural skepticism momentarily and tapped my foot right along to a rendition of “May the Circle Be Unbroken”– the unofficial theme song of country music (and public domain, so free to use!) that closes out the Country Music awards every year. It was a lovely sentiment to feel, a beautiful-seeming club of sorts, one that seemed to be built on genuine respect and admiration.
But then, when a fellow tourer asked how performers became selected for membership in the Opry, we were told a “committee” made that decision (with unknown members, in a secretive fashion), which also raised my hackles a bit– generally, committees for motion pictures have struggled with homogenous membership that only rewards art in that likeness. And looking at the list of performers in the membership, one couldn’t help but notice some resemblance in the types of acts and people the committee tended to bestow membership offers on. It was unmistakeable but also unsaid.
The climax of the tour was to step onto the stage of the Opry itself– the famous “circle” where the headliner stands, cut from the original home of the Opry, the Ryman Theater. The wooden floor boards, gnarled by decades of performances, were cut and preserved with a topcoat to show the history of the theater via every knick and crack.
The Grand Ole Opry tour was great at sharing the significance of the place with guests, but the specific Women in Country tour didn’t shed much light on the contributions, or even the struggles, women had breaking into and getting to the top of country music over the years. (A 2019 study found that songs by women were only played 1 time in every 10 songs on country music radio, even in that modern year). My questions about Taylor Swift were politely demurred, as was any subject slightly controversial– this was an easy, breezy tour that toed the polite line that Southeastern-hospitality can often walk: kind, but measured– surface-level in depth. But delivered with a great big smile.
Later that night, we headed out to Broadway– Nashville’s live music center for tourists, and in my ways– its Bourbon Street. It took about 30 seconds to discern that everyone– absolutely everyone– was tipsy, and most were further along than that.
Being late fall, the doors and windows were flung open– not only to cool bar patrons with the night air– but to use the siren song of the band onstage to lure in pedestrians walking on the busy avenue. The street was blocked off to traffic, and the music of a dozen different bands produced a chaotic cacophony of unrelated beats and clashing notes on the street.
The best part of Broadway was the lack of cover charges– meaning one could move between bars and experience lots of different sounds and vibes. We found that a venue often had one act upstairs, and one act downstairs– meaning you could see two bands in one. Hot tip for Nashville nubes– not everyone knew about the upstairs acts, which were often less crowded spaces (and also meant it was much easier to get a drink from a bartender).
Moon and I moved fluidly between bars for the rest of the night, listening to one band and then the next, staying if we loved the talent, and moving on if we didn’t. It really felt like a thrilling dream state to float from one sound to the next in just minutes.
I had huge respects for the acts, as the bands were EXTREMELY hardworking– they were “gigging” in every sense of the word, taking on the multiple jobs of 1. Getting folks in from the street, 2. Playing the actual music, and 3. Asking for and generating their own pay via tips– they didn’t just pass a paint bucket, they took it into the crowd themselves– selling anything they could, including song requests, selfies, whatever could generate some coin.
The bands judiciously played crowd-pleasers accordingly, which meant we heard “Tennessee Whiskey” belted approximately nine hundred times in one evening– but that shouldn’t have been a shock, given we were IN Tennessee.
Moon’s keen eye noted that most of the bars were smart enough to employ menus that were ‘point-able’– so loud, that hearing was never a guarantee, even when shouting. It was a raucous time: everyone was there to party.
The rowdy street was charming at-times and a bit unsettling at others, as drunken enthusiasm always has a crash point. Being the age we are, Moon and I always try to make our exit before that limit– but we stayed out longer than intended on this night– the music provided a trance that was hard to break.
In case this seemed like too much excitement– we went out the very next evening to Lipstick Lounge, a karaoke bar in the city. Turns out, the bar also had a humidor lounge above it specifically catering to queer folks.
The black-and-white photographs that adorned the walls were striking– images of queer people, primarily women-identifying people, smoking huge cigars– reminiscent of a way that men are often photographed, but women seldom are. It was fantastic to see the tropes turned upside-down, and refreshing to see women-identified people embracing this traditionally masculine act.
In black-and-white, no less.
You know the saying– when in Rome– do as the Romans do.
We ordered a cigarillo and settled in to the upstairs lounge chat with the patrons, who were super-gregarious and open. Far more than we were used to, being from a bigger and icier city. It was also refreshing to talk to folks other than one another (as much as Moon and I enjoy each other’s company, time with others is helpful when you are ‘stuck’ together in a 19-foot space, 24/7).
After awhile, we went downstairs and sang karaoke with the regulars– and at the end the night, the owner of the bar graced us all with a song. She was of the older generation of queer folks, and the crowd showed major respect to their elder and the facilitator of this gathering space. It was a lovely way to end the evening, and a lovely way to end our stay in Nashville.
Posted by Sun
