Nashville's Kings

In the liner notes of his 2004 CD, East Nashville Skyline, Todd Snider wrote of the song “Nashville,” “But listen . . .Seriously . . . in the clubs at night, I’ll put our town against anybody’s in any genre ever. Period.”  That’s a bold claim.  Even on an album with one of the greatest all time songs (i.e., “Play a Train Song”), that’s gutsy, just asking for an argument.  As much as I love this town, and its music, as much as I like seeing local bands and local musicians playing on street corners, I don’t know that I would want to be forced to defend that claim.  Nonetheless, two discs released this year help make the case.  If we’re not the best, we certainly have moments that make one wonder.

Evidence:  in the space of the past several months, we’ve seen the release of the newest Kings of Leon CD, Because of the Times, and Tommy Womack’s There, I Said It.  Each of these CDs, in their own way, is driven by a mix of mature resignation and vulnerability.  While the recordings have very little in common beyond that mix, both give me the types of chills that remind me why I fell in love with music as a kid.

For those familiar with the Kings, and I hope most of you are, this one is a departure from the first two.  While Youth and Young Manhood and Aha Shake HeartBreak both share a similar straight ahead guitar driven sound with powerfully unique vocals (My Bonnie swears these guys are from Africa rather than Nashville), this new CD slows things down, providing a spookier rhythm and bass beat.  And while what I loved about Aha was the fact that the lyrics seemed creepy, even if I wasn’t sure why (e.g., from “Milk”:  “She saw my comb-over, her hourglass body/She has problems with drinking milk/and being school tardy/She’ll loan you her toothbrush/She’ll bartend your party”), this recording doesn’t work on the same level.  Rather, not only have the topics changed a bit (the only song is entitled, “Knocked Up,”), but on this, their third full length CD, they are starting to develop that sound of young people trying to figure out what to do, how to live, how to communicate, when ultimate control lies out of one’s hands.  I’m not even talking lyrics here; I’m focusing on a feeling here, a sound of desperation.  The Kings are no longer sure of what’s happening, to them, or to the world; all they seem to know is that writing songs about it makes things somehow better.  You’ll want to be along for the ride.

You may be less familiar with Tommy Womack’s There, I Said it!  While he’s gotten some decent local coverage for the CD, nothing really prepares you for how wonderful this recording is.  While my favorite band, Lambchop, records songs with a sound of sad resignation, there’s something a little different about this: Womack’s seemingly autobiographical songs (the “There, I said it!” refers to his admittance at age 43 that he’s not going to be a rock star after all).  Womack sings about his life in the most refreshingly open and  . . . well. . . downright joyful way I’ve ever heard.  I kid you not:  I find myself smiling everytime I listen to this CD.  Just the thought of hearing him sing about going to a neighbor’s house to use the pool with his family, because they can’t afford a pool of their own, makes me smile.  This recording feels honest, and I don’t mean that in a cheap way.  Rather, it’s a recording that will make you feel like you honestly like this guy, that you know him, that you want to sit down and have a beer or six with him and talk about his life. And yours.  This thing works.

So, while your town may have a great restaurant on every corner, or a wonderful book store on every block, or whatever it is you’re broad of, Nashville is indeed the home of the greatest music in the world.  Hell, from the beginning of this post to the end, I’ve changed my mind.  Todd Snider is right.  We’re the greatest.  Ever.

Comments

[Janet]

So to restate: Nashville's music is the best in the world if you like to wallow in musical "desperation" and "sad resignation."

Gosh, sounds way better than, I don't know, jazz in New Orleans, or even Charleston. Who wants to dance like a fiend and feel good about being alive?!